All she wanted was to go somewhere on her own two feet. Without informing anyone of her plans. And if she had to suffer through shooting pain every time she put weight on her foot, then so be it. It was worth it just to get out of her room.

But back to Lord Hugh. She knew that his leg bothered him after too much use, but did he feel pain every time he took a step? How was it possible she had not asked him this? They had walked together, certainly no long distances, but still, she should have known if he was in pain. She should have asked.

She hobbled a bit farther down the hall, then finally gave up and sat down in a chair. Someone would be along eventually. A maid . . . a footman . . . It was a busy house.

She sat, tapping a tune on her leg with her hands. Her mother would have a fit if she saw her like this. A lady was meant to sit still. A lady should speak softly and laugh musically and do all sorts of things that had never come naturally to Sarah. It was remarkable, really, that she loved her mother so well. By all rights, they should have wanted to kill each other.

After a few minutes Sarah heard someone moving around the corner. Should she call out? She did need help, but—

“Lady Sarah?”

It was him. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. Or pleased. But she was. Their last conversation had been awful, but when she saw Lord Hugh Prentice coming toward her down the hall, she was so happy to see him that it was astonishing.

He reached her side, then looked up and down the hall. “What are you doing here?”

“Resting, I’m afraid.” She kicked her foot out an inch or so. “My ambitions outstripped my abilities.”

“You shouldn’t be up and about.”

“I just spent three days practically tied to my bed.”

Was it her imagination, or did he suddenly look somewhat uncomfortable?

She kept talking. “And three more before that trapped in a coach—”

“As did we all.”

She pressed her lips together peevishly. “Yes, but the rest of you were able to get out and walk around.”

“Or limp,” he said dryly.

Her eyes flew to his face, but whatever emotions he hid behind his eyes, she could not interpret them.

“I owe you an apology,” he said stiffly.

She blinked. “For what?”

“I let you fall.”

She looked at him for a moment, utterly stunned that he might blame himself for what was so obviously an accident.