Authors: Last Duke
“I see.” Pierce cleared his throat. “Mr. Chapman, I realize I’m being harsh and intrusive. I agree that your situation with Sarah is your business and no one else’s. But Sarah is a much valued member of my household. Consequently, I do not want her hurt or upset.”
“Neither do I. In the name of heaven, she’s carrying my—” James broke off abruptly.
“We know about the babe, Mr. Chapman,” Daphne said quietly. “That’s one of the reasons we’re being so protective.” With unbiased compassion, Daphne took in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the lines of suffering about his mouth. Then she turned to Pierce. “I think we should send for Sarah.”
Pierce inclined his head, his gaze meeting his wife’s.
“My exceptional instincts,” she said softly, simply. “Please. This time in particular, heed them.”
The tension drained slowly from Pierce’s taut frame. “All right, Snow flame,” he concurred. Then he looked about, calling, “Langley.”
“Yes, sir?” The butler hastened to their side.
“Please summon Miss Sarah. Tell her she has a visitor.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” James murmured gratefully. “You won’t regret it.”
“No, I don’t believe I will. As for thanks, thank my wife. In the end, it appears she was far more objective than I.” Pierce studied James thoughtfully. “You’re a lucky man, Chapman. My advice is that you never again wager so invaluable an asset as the woman you love.” With that, Pierce retraced his steps to the dining room.
Daphne and James stared after him. Then, Daphne turned back to their guest. “I agree, Mr. Chapman. Savor this opportunity to regain Sarah’s love. ’Tis the last chance you’ll be given.”
“Daphne?” Sarah’s voice interrupted whatever James had been about to reply. “I’m in the midst of lessons. Is there some—” She halted, all the color draining from her face. “James.”
Tactfully, Daphne moved off. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll rejoin my husband for breakfast.” She gave Sarah a reassuring smile. “Should you need me, you know where I’ll be.”
“Your Grace?”
Daphne was halfway down the hall when she heard James summon her. She paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Yes?”
Sarah’s hand was clutched tightly in his. “You have my unending gratitude,” he called. “You and your husband.”
Even from a distance, Daphne could see the joy trembling on Sarah’s lips. “Be happy, both of you,” she returned warmly. Her lips curved. “All three of you.”
Light of heart, Daphne strolled into the dining room. “Do you think Mr. Hollingsby might require an assistant?” she asked Pierce brightly as he stood to ease back her chair.
Pierce’s chuckle was rich. “My thoughts exactly, Snow flame.” He grew sober. “Sarah is pleased, then?”
“Elated would be a better choice of words.”
“And why not? She’s with the man she loves,” Elizabeth interjected, sipping her tea. Noting Daphne’s questioning look, she explained. “Pierce told us about James and the delicacy of the situation. I, for one, think it’s wonderful.”
Daphne clasped her husband’s hand. “As do I.” She gazed pointedly from her mother to the vicar. “Isn’t it wondrous when fate sees fit to grant those who are deserving a second chance at happiness?”
“Yes, Snowdrop.” It was the vicar who replied. “ ’Tis truly a miracle.”
Pierce brought Daphne’s fingers to his lips. “Tell me, do you think Chapman’s restlessness can really be abated? After all, he’s never stayed in one place long enough to set up his own soliciting practice, much less to build a home and support a family.”
“Definitely.” Daphne popped some raspberries into her mouth, her eyes alight with mischief. “Fatherhood has a way of inspiring great changes in men, wouldn’t you say?”
A corner of Pierce’s mouth lifted. “Indeed I would, Snow flame. Indeed I would.”
Spirits were high when the Markham carriage arrived at the schoolhouse two hours later. Waiting only until Pierce had handed down her mother, Daphne practically leapt to the ground, eagerly surveying the bustling scene unfolding around her.
Workmen scurried about, calling to each other as they organized their materials and good-naturedly sidestepped the inquisitive, exuberant children. Over the clattering wood, Miss Redmund’s stern voice rang out, admonishing the students and demanding that they behave.
She might just as well have been ordering the wind to be still.
“I’d better assist Miss Redmund,” Daphne determined, exchanging amused looks with the vicar. “Else she’ll have apoplexy before the construction even begins.”
“Daphne!”
Having spotted her, Timmy snatched up a small box, yanking off its lid and simultaneously racing over. “I brought ’enry,” he announced proudly, shoving the lizard under Daphne’s nose. “I was ’oping you could watch ’im fer me while I’m working.”
“I’d be delighted.” Daphne was torn between chortling and retching as the thick smell of mud and grass accosted her. Breathing through her mouth, she peered closer, seeing a flash of dark green slither through the reeds.
“There ’e is! Ye see ’im? Isn’t ’e great?”
“Yes, and yes.” Inadvertently, Daphne inched away. “He’s splendid. Only what exactly is his bed made of?”
“Oh, lots of stuff I found in the barn. Yucky stuff. Lizards like yucky stuff, especially when it’s wet.”
“Lizards are also notoriously shy,” Pierce interjected, biting back a roar of laughter. “So why don’t we put his lid back on and give him some privacy among all these strangers.”
“Ye’re right, Pierce.” Instantly, Timmy covered his pet. “Daphne said she’d hold ’im while I’m ’elping the men.”
“A wise idea. That way there’s no chance of Henry escaping and getting into trouble. A construction site is a very dangerous place for small creatures like lizards.” Pierce raised his voice until it boomed pointedly across the grounds. “In fact, a construction site is dangerous for anyone who doesn’t follow directions. Therefore, any of our helpers who can’t do as they’re told will spend the remainder of the day watching Daphne watch Henry.”
A round of groans.
“Good.” Pierce grinned. “I see we understand each other. Now let’s gather round and approach the schoolhouse safely, as a group rather than helter-skelter, like a chaotic mob. At that point the workmen can give us our instructions.”
Reluctantly, the children stopped dashing about, making their way, one by one, over to Pierce.
Gazing after them, Miss Redmund beamed at Pierce, her pudgy cheeks lifting in an adoring smile.
With a cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh, Chambers averted his head, intently studying the men as they unloaded the last of their materials.
“Who are ye?” William suddenly demanded, cocking his head at Elizabeth.
“I’m Daphne’s mother. My name is Elizabeth.”
“Daphne ’as a mother?” He looked incredulous. “But she’s old.”
“True.” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with humor. “But her advanced years are a recent occurrence. She used to be about the same age as you. So she does indeed have a mother.”
“Ye’re pretty,” Prudence declared, hugging her new doll. “Are you a snowdrop, too?”
Elizabeth’s gaze met the vicar’s. “Do you know, I believe I am.” She touched the doll’s bright head. “What is your name and who is your beautiful friend?”
“My name is Prudence. My doll’s name is Daphne.” Prudence’s earnest little face screwed up thoughtfully. “When Daphne bought ’er fer me, she said to give ’er a name that was special. So I did.”
“Oh, Prudence.” Daphne squatted beside her, tears glistening on her lashes. “That is perhaps the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m honored. Thank you.”
“I gave ye my lizard to hold,” Timmy protested. “That’s an honor, too.”
“Of course it is. What Prudence did is just a different kind of honor. Right, Prudence?” She gave the little girl a conspiratorial smile.
Prudence smiled back. “Right.”
“Mr. Chambers, are we gonna be able to ’oist the beams and nail the slate?” William questioned.
“Let’s go find out.” The vicar gestured for them to follow.
“I’ll set up some benches for you and Elizabeth,” Pierce told Daphne. “Then I’ll go give the workmen a hand.” His eyes twinkled. “I’ll leave you ladies to tend to Henry.”
Within the hour, the shingles were ready to go, and the heavy wooden beams soon to anchor the new roof were lying side by side on the ground. Two powerful plow horses were brought in, tossing their heads as a foreman tied one end of the thick rope to their harnesses, the other to the first beam he intended to hoist.
Pierce tugged Timmy away from the horses, then turned to roll his eyes at Daphne.
From a dozen feet away, Daphne laughed. “I wish Pierce wouldn’t hold me to that silly promise,” she complained to her mother. “I want to help.”
“Oh, we shall.” Elizabeth settled back on the bench Pierce had made for them under a cluster of trees. “One more incident such as that and Timmy will be joining Henry. My instincts tell me he won’t be alone. In fact, I suspect that most of the children are going to spend more time watching Henry’s antics than they’ll spend assisting the builders.”
“Doubtless.” Daphne looked around. “Where is the vicar?”
“Assembling nails for the slate.” Elizabeth pointed. “See? Alongside the building.”
“And Miss Redmund? I thought she’d be delighted to sit here with us.”
“Miss Redmund is evidently more delighted to stand by the schoolhouse and gaze worshipfully at your husband,” Elizabeth returned with a sideways look at Daphne.
Simultaneously, they dissolved into laughter.
A speeding carriage tore onto the scene, screeching to a halt beside the construction materials.
Daphne’s laughter froze. “Oh my God.” She seized her mother’s hand, feeling it turn to ice.
“It’s Harwick.” All the color drained from Elizabeth’s face, and she began to tremble uncontrollably. “What in the name of heaven is he doing here?”
“Thornton!”
Tragmore’s voice erupted like a gunshot, splintering into sinister fragments all about them. He stalked Pierce in harsh, uncompromising strides, emitting a coiled, bone-chilling aura of triumph.
Slowly, Pierce turned. “Tragmore. What do you want?”
“Quite a bit.” The marquis laughed. “Everything, in fact. My entire life—and yours.”
“Get out.” Instinctively, Pierce took a protective step in Daphne’s direction as if to shield her from her father’s presence. “Get out before I throw you out.”
Unconcerned, Tragmore glanced in the direction of Pierce’s movement. “Ah. My traitorous daughter and my adulterous wife. Your servants didn’t mention I’d find them here as well. And where is the deceitful vicar? I assumed he would complete this cozy picture.”
“Cease this tirade, Harwick.” The vicar dropped the nails he’d been holding, coming to stand beside Pierce. “You’ve done enough damage to last a lifetime. Go back to Tragmore.”
“Ah, there you are, Chambers. I feared you’d disappointed me. As for my going back to Tragmore, I fully intend to. But when I do, it will be as a rich and powerful man.” The marquis flourished his portfolio, a vicious gleam in his eye. “Or, if not rich and powerful, then at least thoroughly vindicated.”
“You? Vindicated?” Pierce laughed harshly. “ ’Tis you who contaminates the rest of the world, Tragmore. Not the other way around.”
“Is that why my wife is bedding down with the pious clergyman?”
Chambers went rigid. “Don’t soil Elizabeth’s name, you unworthy scoundrel. Not in my presence.”
“How gallant!” Tragmore applauded. “ ’Tis no wonder Elizabeth prefers your bed to mine. Tell me, Chambers, are you sharing her room during your prolonged and intimate stay at Markham?”
“Don’t dignify that vile accusation with an answer, Vicar.” Pierce’s eyes glittered with hatred.
“Your Grace?” the foreman called out tentatively. “Shall we wait?”
“It’s not necessary, Mallor,” Pierce replied, his gaze glued to Tragmore. “The marquis will be leaving shortly. Start hoisting the beams. Miss Redmund, watch the children.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Miss Redmund agreed, gathering the children together.
The sounds of construction resumed.
“All right, Tragmore,” Pierce ground out. “You’ve spoken your filthy mind. Now get out.”
“Not quite yet, Thornton.” With cold deliberation, Tragmore extracted five or six sheets from his portfolio. “You see, despite the overwhelming presence of your burly guards, my investigator managed to acquire a significant amount of evidence at Rutland. Enough to prove there is more involved here than my filthy mind, as you put it. Pages of evidence, in fact.” He turned to the vicar. “Would you like a recounting of each and every visit you made to see Elizabeth these past two months? Of the long moments you and she were alone, unchaperoned, in the manor in which Thornton ensconced her? Just the two of you and those thoughtful, romantic yellow roses you brought her on your visits. Not to mention your unexpected and cozy carriage ride from Rutland to Markham, where you’re residing under the same roof, doing lord knows what.”
“We’re talking, Harwick. Something you are incapable of doing except with your fists.” Chambers could scarcely speak beyond his rage. “Not even your devious investigator can fabricate sins that never took place. And deep inside your black heart, you know very well that Elizabeth is incapable of deceit. That so long as she bears your name, she would never be unfaithful to you.”
“Ah, but she’s in the process of ridding herself of my name, is she not? Or so Hollingsby told me when he dropped by Tragmore to sever our association.”
“Yes,” Pierce bit out. “She is. And with just cause, as we both know. You brutalized her, you bastard, just as you brutalized my wife.”
“I? A bastard?” Another bitter laugh. “I believe you’re confused, Thornton. ’Tis you who are the bastard, not I. You were born of a whore who was cast into the streets where she belonged. Had the fates been kind, she would have died there, with you still in her belly, rather than taking up taxpayers’ money in that filthy Leicester workhouse.”
Something inside Pierce snapped.
“You son of a bitch.” His fist shot out, sending Tragmore reeling backward.
“Don’t, Pierce.” The vicar grabbed his sleeve. “That is precisely what he’s goading you into doing. For whatever reason, he wants to appear the martyr.” Chambers indicated the gaping crew and children.