The Last Duke

  “He won’t.” Pierce was in motion again. “My mount is just beyond those trees. I’ll ride through the woods, bypassing the village and traveling as the crow flies. I’ll beat Tragmore by a good quarter hour. I’ll meet you at the church with the marchioness. Now go.” He vanished into the cluster of trees.

  A moment later, the sound of galloping hooves and snapping twigs reached Daphne’s ears. Then, silence.

  “Your savior, I believe you said. A most accurate description.” The vicar nodded with satisfaction. “He’s a fine man, Snowdrop. You’ve chosen well.”

  “My husband.” Daphne shook her head dazedly. “Is this really happening?”

  “Indeed it is. And I suggest we hasten to the church in order to make what limited arrangements we can. Although,” tenderly, he patted her cheek, “regardless of what we do, you will be the most beautiful of brides.” He cast a worried glance toward the woods. “I only pray your Pierce reaches Elizabeth before it’s too late.”

  “He will.” A smile of infinite wonder played about Daphne’s lips. “Pierce always answers prayers.”

  13

  THE LAST RAYS OF daylight had just disappeared from view when the church door burst open.

  “Daphne.” Hastening forward, Elizabeth embraced her daughter, who was alone and pacing in the empty church.

  “Mama, are you all right?”

  “Yes, now that I’ve seen you.” The marchioness anxiously searched Daphne’s face. “I was so worried.”

  Daphne’s gaze met Pierce’s as he entered the room. “Thank you.”

  He nodded soberly. “My pleasure.”

  “Tell me what happened,” Elizabeth demanded. “Your father was wild with rage when he went looking for you. Mr. Thornton—pardon me—His Grace said they came to blows. He also said you wanted me with you; that the two of you are about to be married.”

  “Are you shocked?”

  “By the marriage? No. Only by the urgency.” Despite her emotional turmoil, Elizabeth smiled. “As you recall, I already knew what your decision would be.”

  Hearing that, Pierce’s brows rose, a self-satisfied grin curving his lips. “I’m delighted to learn you’d decided in my favor.”

  “Did you doubt it?” Daphne asked softly.

  “At moments, yes.”

  Glancing from her daughter to Pierce, Elizabeth asked, “Where did Harwick find you and what happened?”

  “You’d better sit down, Mama,” Daphne replied. She drew her mother to a pew, lowering herself beside her. “Father thinks Pierce and I are already wed.”

  Elizabeth started. “Why would he think that?”

  “Possibly because I told him so,” Pierce supplied.

  “But why?” Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide with fear. “Did he find you and Daphne together?”

  “It was worse than that,” Daphne murmured. “He found me at the schoolhouse. I’d just returned from completing the errand you and I had discussed.” She gave her mother a meaningful look. “I stopped in the village, first to visit the vicar, then the children. I was on my way to Tragmore when Father appeared, enraged. Pierce interceded. One thing led to another, and—” She broke off, inclining her head quizzically in Pierce’s direction. “How did you arrive on the scene when you did?”

  “I followed you.”

  “From the church?”

  “From London.”

  “From London?” Daphne gasped. “How did you know?”

  “I traveled to Tragmore at dawn, as promised. Your mother said you were out. I went to Town to conduct some business, intending to return to your father’s estate later today. I happened to spy you as your carriage left London for Northampton. As you know, I was eager for your answer to my marriage proposal. So I followed you. I arrived at the church in time to see you and the vicar depart. Knowing how you feel about the village children, it wasn’t difficult to determine your destination. So, I acted on instinct and rode to the school. Fortunately, my instinct was right.”

  A warm glow lit Daphne’s eyes. “Isn’t it always?”

  “Most times, yes.”

  “Daphne,” Elizabeth interjected, “what incited the duke to lie to your father? What did Harwick do to you?”

  Daphne shuddered. “It isn’t what he did to me, it’s what he intended to do. I’ve never seen him so angry. Then, when Pierce informed him we were already wed, he went berserk. He seemed to believe we were all part of some conspiracy. He took off for Tragmore—to thrash you and to have my marriage annulled.”

  “So that’s why you dragged me away so swiftly,” Elizabeth realized aloud, looking at Pierce with a mixture of gratitude and fear. “I thank you, sir. But it won’t help. Eventually, I have to return to Tragmore and Harwick’s wrath.”

  “No. You don’t.” Pierce shook his head. “Along with my title, I’ve acquired five enormous, currently unoccupied estates. Take your choice. You have only to move in. I’ll arrange the rest.”

  A twinge of hope flickered, then died. “Harwick will find me.”

  “I’m certain he will. But he’ll never get past the men I have guarding the property.” Pierce’s lips quirked. “There are distinct advantages to growing up in the streets. One meets the most resourceful people.”

  “But the law says—”

  “One also learns to ignore the law, if need be.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth snapped shut. “I—Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “Pierce,” he amended. “After all, within the hour we’ll be family. I believe a touch of informality would be in order.”

  The door at the head of the church opened. “Snowdrop, the license is now in order. I’ve also managed to amass an ample supply of wildflowers for your bouquet and enough candles to bathe the church in a suitably reverent glow.” The vicar came to a halt. “Elizabeth.” He came forward in a rush. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled a smile that, for once, reached her eyes. “It’s wonderful to see you, Alfred. And yes, I’m quite well. Thanks to the duke—Pierce.”

  “And to God,” the vicar murmured, scrutinizing Elizabeth as if to ensure himself of her safety. At last, he drew a slow, inward breath and glanced past her to Daphne and Pierce. “Let’s proceed with the wedding then, shall we?”

  With a flourish, he opened his book. “Dearly beloved…”

  Ageless words, timeless in duration, poignant in significance.

  Daphne felt her hands tremble, heard the quiver in her voice as she recited her vows. A gamut of emotions engulfed her all at once: awe, disbelief, excitement, wonder.

  But never doubt. And never fear.

  Not with Pierce.

  The vicar paused, having reached that portion of the ceremony involving the ring. “I nearly forgot,” he murmured to himself. Digging into his pocket, he extracted a dainty silver band, two narrow circles endlessly entwined. “Given the unplanned urgency of this ceremony, I assume you hadn’t time to shop,” he began, the tremor in his voice belying the frivolity of his words. His gaze fell on the delicate scrap of silver in his hands, and he abandoned all pretense. “This ring means a great deal to me.” He cleared his throat roughly. “I’ve kept it safe for years, somehow knowing it would one day be needed for just the right purpose. That day has arrived.” He extended the ring to Pierce. “Please. It would be my pleasure, no, my privilege, if you would seal your vows by placing this band on Daphne’s finger.”

  Visibly moved, Pierce accepted the clergyman’s gift.

  “Thank you, Vicar,” Daphne whispered, wiping tears from her cheeks, vaguely aware of her mother’s quiet weeping. “Not only is the ring lovely and symbolic but, as it comes from you, it’s value is immeasurable.” She turned to Pierce and placed her hand in his, watching as he slid the band onto her fourth finger. Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet her new husband’s.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” she heard the vicar proclaim.

  A profound silence permeated the room.

  Tenderly, Pierce cupped Daphne’s face, and she
was stunned to feel his hands tremble as he bent to brush her lips with his. “You’re mine now, Snow flame,” he said in a breath of a whisper. “No one will ever hurt you again.” Straightening, he extended his hand to the vicar”

  “Thank you. You’re all Daphne claimed and more.”

  “I return the compliment.” The vicar clasped Pierce’s hand warmly. “I wish you a lifetime of joy.” He kissed Daphne atop her head. “Be happy, Snowdrop.”

  Daphne hugged him, then her mother, feeling utterly light-headed and disoriented.

  “Go,” Chambers said, seeing the dazed look in her eyes. “You and your new husband need time together.”

  “Mama?” Daphne turned to her mother.

  “We’ll take your mother to Markham,” Pierce answered. “Until I can make other arrangements, she’ll be safest there.”

  “Oh, no.” Elizabeth shook her head, still dabbing at her eyes. “I won’t impose. Not tonight. It’s your wedding night.”

  Pierce grinned. “You won’t be imposing. I’ll leave you in my staff’s capable hands, giving them strict instructions to advise all visitors that no one is home and no guests are permitted. Then, Daphne and I will travel on to my house in Wellingborough.”

  “In that case, I accept.”

  “Excellent. Then let’s be on our way before the marquis begins tearing up Northamptonshire looking for you.” Pierce frowned. “I hesitate to travel the main road, lest we run into him.”

  “I was quite a good rider in my youth,” Elizabeth put in. “And, though my practice over the years has been limited, I’m certain I can still take the woods at a breakneck pace—astride, incidentally, not sidesaddle.” She gave Pierce a mischievous grin. “Does that ease our dilemma?”

  “I begin to see whom Daphne takes after,” Pierce chuckled. “Indeed, I ask only that you don’t leave Daphne and me behind in the dust.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.” Elizabeth turned to the vicar and her smile faded. “Thank you, Alfred,” she said softly. “I think you know what your love and protection of Daphne mean to me.”

  “Perhaps Daphne isn’t the only one who can now begin anew,” he replied. “Perhaps your time has arrived, as well.”

  “Perhaps.” She squeezed his hands. “God bless you,” she whispered.

  “Thank you, Vicar,” Pierce repeated solemnly. “The doors at Markham and at Wellingborough are always open to you.”

  “Visit us,” Daphne urged the vicar with a final hug. “Please.”

  “You couldn’t keep me away.” Glancing at the clock, he urged them toward the door. “Now go.”

  Two hours later, Pierce and Daphne rode up to the door of Pierce’s Wellingborough residence. Dismounting, Pierce lifted Daphne from the saddle and lowered her feet to the ground.

  “We’re home,” he said simply.

  Daphne smiled, surveying the modest structure with a contented glow. “I’m glad. ‘Home’ is something new to me. I’ve never truly lived in one. Only a house.”

  Pierce’s eyes darkened with emotion. “Let’s go in.”

  Strolling about the sitting room, Daphne drank in the understated furnishings with infinite pleasure. “Lovely. Also very much you: solid, unpretentious, and overwhelmingly masculine.”

  “And that’s only the sitting room,” Pierce teased huskily, coming up behind her.

  Daphne closed her eyes, leaned back against his reassuring strength. “I’m nervous. Isn’t that ridiculous? I’ve withstood years with a violent and unpredictable father, taken stupid risks that yielded painful results, and married a man I’ve known but a fortnight all without succumbing to nerves. And now, when I’m on the verge of a night I’ve dreamed of, yearned for, my heart is pounding frantically and my stomach is churning. Absurd, wouldn’t you say?”

  “No.” Pierce wrapped his arms about her waist, kissed the side of her neck. “Understandable, I would say. Understandable, and beautiful, and honest.” He turned her into his arms. “I won’t hurt you, Snow flame,” he murmured, feathering his lips over hers.

  “I know.” She sighed blissfully. “I just keep wondering if I’m going to wake up and find this is all a dream, that the last few hours never occurred.”

  “You’re not dreaming,” he assured her, lifting her arms about his neck. “I promise you. This is very real and very right.”

  She gazed up at him, the trust in her eyes so absolute it made his chest tighten. “I know it’s right,” she whispered. “Somehow I always have. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “You never could.” Pierce met her honesty with his own. “Would it help if you knew I was equally apprehensive?”

  Startled, Daphne blinked. “You? Why?”

  “Because it’s never mattered so much. Because a woman has never mattered so much.” He paused, forcing out the next words as if they were a death sentence. “Because there are things I need to tell you before I take you to bed. Things that could change your feelings about tonight.”

  Thoughtfully, Daphne searched his face. “You’re going to fill in the missing pieces, tell me the real reasons for our hasty wedding.”

  “No,” he amended, shaking his head vehemently. “I’m going to fill in the missing piece. But it has nothing to do with my wanting you for my wife, or with our hasty ceremony. I didn’t intend to dash you down the aisle. That was strictly your father’s doing. As for my wanting you,” he caressed the delicate curve of her waist, “I think you know how much I want you under my roof, under my protection,” his eyes darkened, “under me.”

  A tiny shiver went through her. “But there is more. I sensed it from the moment you proposed.”

  “The late Duke of Markham—” he faltered. “My father left several conditions in the codicil to his will. Specifically, there are two stipulations to my retaining possession of his coveted title and, fortune. First, I must assume not only the role of the Duke of Markham, but all its pertinent responsibilities for a period of two years. And second, during that time, I must produce a legitimate heir to the dukedom. Once I’ve fulfilled those provisos I am free to resume my previous life as a commoner, retaining all access to the Markham estate.”

  “And if you fail?”

  “I lose it all.”

  “I see.” Daphne lowered her gaze, her long lashes brushing her cheeks.

  “I don’t want the bloody title. I think you know that. But I need it—for reasons I can’t fully explain.” Staring at her bowed head, his jaw clenched in frustration. “I can imagine what you’re thinking. Here I’ve given you indisputable cause for doubt, perfect grounds to disbelieve all I’ve professed to feel. There’s no earthly reason for you to trust me, and yet, that’s just what I’m asking you to do. Do you see now why I was reluctant to tell all this to you?”

  Daphne’s lashes lifted, and Pierce was stunned to see tears of wonder shimmering in her eyes. “Yes.” She lay her hand on his jaw, soothing away the tension with her fingertips. “You were reluctant to tell me because you were afraid you’d lose me. Yet you did tell me—and before our union was complete—despite your qualms about my reaction.” A tremulous smile hovered about her lips. “You took an unfavorable risk—a forbiddance for a good gambler. And why? Because of your feelings for me. Caring and respect. I’ve never been offered such precious gifts before. Thank you, Pierce.”

  A harsh groan erupted from his chest. “Daphne.” He enfolded her against him, his lips in her hair. “God, I need you.”

  “I need you, too,” she whispered, shy and eager all at once. “Just tell me what to do.”

  His muscles tightened as he struggled with his next offer. “Snow flame. What’s about to happen between us—there are ways to alter its outcome.”

  She leaned back, regarded him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a rare, and priceless jewel, one that has been cruelly mistreated, and is only now on the brink of being treasured as it was meant to be. If you need time, there are ways—”

  “Are you saying you do
n’t plan to make love to me?”

  Pierce started. “Am I saying—No. That is definitely not what I’m saying.” His restless gaze swept over her, his features hardening with desire. “I’m afraid that measure of nobility is beyond me.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you’re more than a vessel for my seed. If you’re not ready to conceive a child, there are ways to prevent it.”

  Quizzically, Daphne inclined her head. “How?”

  “I can refrain from spilling my seed inside you.”

  “Just like that?” Daphne looked puzzled rather than embarrassed. “Wouldn’t that diminish your pleasure?”

  “I’ll survive. I’ve done so for years.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  His smile was bitter. “I’m a bastard, Daphne. I grew up on the streets, never knowing who my father was or when my next meal would be. I swore to myself I’d never be responsible for doing that to another human being.”

  “You wouldn’t be,” she countered softly. “We’re legally wed. Were I to conceive, our child would not be a bastard.”

  “The reason for my self-discipline would be different in our case, but no less valid. If and when we have a child, I want it to be a decision we both make, not one I make alone, and certainly not one incited by the codicil of my late sire’s will.”

  “I see.” Daphne nodded, reaching up to unfasten the top button of Pierce’s shirt. “Well, then, if this discussion is finally at an end,” she struggled with the next button, giving her husband a heart-melting smile, “I believe we’ve done enough talking on our wedding night.” She slid her fingers inside to touch the warmth of Pierce’s skin. “Will you please make love to me now?”

  Her innocent question, her tentative explorations, blasted through his loins like cannon fire, obliterating every vestige of his staunch discipline. “Christ.” He dragged her mouth to his, delving inside to taste her sweetness with all the urgency of a drowning man. He tore open his remaining buttons, covering her hand with his and guiding it along the hard, hair-roughened planes of his chest. “I want you so much I’m going to explode.”