The Last Duke

Elizabeth’s glow was like a schoolgirl’s. “Yes, he has. He stays but a few minutes, and all we do is chat. But the magic is still there. Just as it was all those years ago.” A reluctant blush stained her cheeks. “He brings a bouquet of yellow roses each time he calls.”

  “How romantic! Nearly as romantic as the fact that, after more than twenty years, Mr. Chambers has found no other woman on whom he chooses to bestow his heart. ’Tis still you, just as it always has been, and always will be.”

  Elizabeth smiled at her daughter’s words. “I never thought I’d hear you extolling the virtues of love, growing up the way you did. I suppose my greatest fear was that you’d never trust a man enough to care. But all that has changed now, hasn’t it?”

  “Totally.”

  “I’m glad,” Elizabeth said with understated simplicity. She cupped Daphne’s chin. “Being in love becomes you. So does prospective motherhood. I needn’t ask if Pierce is everything you hoped he’d be.”

  “Everything—and more,” Daphne responded, grinning privately as she contemplated the unexpected exhilaration that had accompanied her marriage, things her mother could never fathom. The heartstopping beauty of Pierce’s lovemaking, the breathless daring of spending her life with the Tin Cup Bandit, and, as she had to honestly admit, the incomparable thrill of robbing by his side.

  Everything Pierce had promised the day he proposed had come to pass, Daphne realized with a flash of awed insight. He’d vowed to release her from the prison of her life, and that meant far more than wresting her from her father’s brutal hands.

  It meant—and she could still hear Pierce’s words, fervently whispered in the woods at Tragmore as he’d enumerated all her facets he intended to free—Your magnificent spirit, your fire, your innocence, your passion: All of you.

  Well, he had succeeded. Sometime over the past two months, Daphne Wyndham had blossomed into Daphne Thornton.

  “You’re lost in thought,” Elizabeth murmured, bringing Daphne back to the present. “And with a most captivating smile on your face. What are you pondering?”

  “Pierce,” Daphne whispered, her voice hushed with emotion. “He’s freed me, Mama, precisely as he vowed.” Automatically, her palm shifted to her abdomen. “And, with God’s help, this babe and I will free him as well.”

  22

  “NOW REMEMBER THE PROMISE I coerced from you last week,” Pierce cautioned, buttoning his shirt.

  “Promises,” Daphne amended with a twinkle. “And I’m certain you shan’t let me forget a single one.” She crossed the bedchamber, reaching up to complete her husband’s task. “I recall every word,” she added hastily, seeing Pierce’s angry scowl. “I’ll stay far away from the school-house while the roof is constructed, remain in my makeshift seat, and call you if I need anything at all. How’s that?” She smoothed the shirt with a flourish.

  “The shirt is fine. I wish I were nearly as confident of the promises. Had I not said you could come—”

  “But you did. Besides, involving the children in this project was my idea. I’d be devastated if I weren’t permitted to watch. Please, Pierce, I won’t endanger either myself or the babe. You have my word. I’ll make no attempt to help. Why, I won’t even approach the cart holding the slate and the wood. I’ll just sit sedately by and observe the children’s joyous faces. All right?”

  A sigh. “All right.” He scooped up his coat. “Let’s go have some breakfast. The workmen won’t be arriving at the schoolhouse for several hours, and you’re not leaving Markham unless you’ve put something in your stomach.”

  “I ate a piece of dry toast before I stepped out of bed,” Daphne protested.

  “That was four hours ago. Cook was advised to prepare a light mid-morning meal, suitable for expectant mothers. So stop arguing, and join me in the dining room.”

  “Very well.” Reluctantly, Daphne nodded. “Although if we’re late—”

  “We won’t be.”

  Rounding the second-floor landing, Pierce guided Daphne down the staircase. Halfway, she paused, nudging him and gesturing toward the foot of the steps. He followed her gaze, grinning as he saw the object of his wife’s scrutiny.

  Standing in the alcove, oblivious to the servants scurrying by them, were Elizabeth and Chambers. They were absorbed in quiet conversation broken by an occasional wash of muted laughter. And, though nearly a foot of space separated them, the affection hovering between them was a palpable entity no distance could belie.

  “I’d best find the time to travel to London and meet with Colby, that barrister Hollingsby’s engaged,” Pierce muttered for his wife’s ears alone. His lips twitched. “My infallible instincts tell me we’d be wise to expedite the divorce process.”

  “In this case your instincts are wasted,” Daphne returned, tender amusement sparkling on her face. “Your eyes alone could tell you as much.”

  “Indeed.” Pierce tucked Daphne’s arm through his. “I almost hate to intrude.”

  “Good morning, you two.” Elizabeth chose that moment to look up, smiling warmly as she greeted them. “We’ve been waiting for you. Cook’s clucking has gotten louder and louder. Evidently, our meal is getting cold. So let’s dash in and eat. Then we can all leave together for the schoolhouse.”

  “You’re accompanying us, Mama?” Daphne blinked in surprise.

  “Well, of course.” Elizabeth met Daphne’s gaze, her own pervaded by an inner peace until now unknown. “These past years I’ve been able to offer you assistance in only the most covert ways. Your cause means as much to me as it does to you. I relish the thought of translating my feelings into something more tangible, something that can truly help the children. Moreover,” she exchanged a teasing look with Pierce, “who else would ensure that you behave, if not I?”

  “Mama…”

  Chambers beamed. “I wouldn’t dream of trying to dissuade your mother, Snowdrop. I haven’t seen her so determined in two and twenty years.”

  “I have no intention of dissuading her,” Daphne replied, seeing beyond her mother’s quip to the significance of her transformation. “Welcome, Mama.” Hugging Elizabeth, she whispered, “Evidently, I’m not the only Wyndham woman who’s been released from prison.”

  “Evidently not.”

  Daphne seized her mother’s hand. “Come. I suddenly find myself ravenously hungry.”

  A quarter hour later a knock sounded, interrupting their meal. Daphne glanced quizzically at Pierce. “Are you expecting anyone?”

  “No.” He broke into his second teacake. “Whoever it is, Langley will handle it.”

  A moment later, the butler entered the dining room. “Pardon me, Your Grace. I hate to interrupt your meal, but you did ask me to advise you if a Mr. James Chapman should arrive. Well, the gentleman in question is in the hallway.”

  Before Langley had completed his announcement, Daphne’s bowl of fresh raspberries had been abandoned. Like a bullet, she came to her feet. “James? Is that Sarah’s—”

  “Yes.” Pierce rose as well, frowning at his wife’s unchecked ebullience. “Daphne, please, let me handle this. We still don’t know precisely why Mr. Chapman is here.”

  Daphne bit back her reply, forcing herself to remember why Pierce’s attitude toward James was so severe. Having endured his own father’s abandonment, Pierce was staunchly trying to protect Sarah from hurt.

  “What did Mr. Chapman say, Langley?” Pierce was questioning.

  “He asked to see Miss Sarah, sir.”

  “Did he?” Tossing his napkin to the table, Pierce headed for the door. “First, he shall see me. After which I’ll decide whether or not to tell Sarah of his arrival.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  Restraint cast aside, Daphne followed Pierce’s path, raising her chin as her husband turned to confront her.

  “I know you don’t believe I’m objective,” she told him quietly. “And perhaps you’re correct. But, Pierce, you are no more objective than I. And, since our inclinations in this case lead us to draw
opposite conclusions, and since we both care about Sarah’s future and the future of her babe, I believe we should both be present to hear what James has to say.”

  For an instant, Pierce hesitated.

  “ ’Tis you who created this forthright wife,” Daphne murmured. “Did you not encourage me to emerge from my stifling cocoon?”

  Pride warred with frustration and won. “Yes, Snow flame, I did,” Pierce conceded. “Very well, then.” He extended his arm. “Shall we meet with Mr. Chapman?”

  Never had Daphne felt more proud—or more loved. “Yes. At once.”

  James was pacing the length of the entranceway. When he saw Daphne and Pierce approach, he halted, hat clutched nervously in his hands.

  “Mr. Chapman?” Pierce opened.

  “Yes, sir. Are you the Duke of Markham?”

  A nod. “I’m Pierce Thornton. This is my wife, Daphne.”

  “Mr. Chapman,” Daphne acknowledged. He was much as she’d expected: tall and dark, with sharp, intelligent features, not classically handsome but overwhelmingly charismatic. “I assume, from your arrival at Markham, that the tavern keeper at Black’s advised you of Sarah’s whereabouts.” She waited.

  His reaction was immediate. “Then she is here?”

  “Yes, she’s here.”

  “Thank the lord.” James raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been combing London for her, stopping in every pub and coffeehouse I pass.”

  “Really?” Pierce tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What made you think she was in London?”

  “At first, I didn’t. Originally, that fellow at Black’s gave me the address of some big country estate. Said she’d left Black’s to take a better job as a maid.” He frowned, rubbing the brim of his hat. “Well, I went there—Benchley it was called—and the Viscount slammed the door in my face after curtly declaring that no one by the name of Sarah Cooke had ever worked at his estate.”

  Pierce’s jaw tightened fractionally but he said nothing.

  “Anyway, I thought maybe Sarah had purposely left a phony address at Black’s to mislead me. So I returned to London, and my search.”

  “Why would Sarah intentionally mislead you?” Pierce prompted.

  “Because she might not want me to find her.” James averted his head. “The last time we saw each other she was terribly angry. And with good reason.”

  “Really? What reason was that?”

  James stiffened. “With all due respect, Your Grace, Sarah’s and my relationship is between the two of us. I don’t want to jeopardize her job at Markham, whatever that is, but I won’t stand here and discuss our arguments with you either. I presume you left that note at Black’s supplying me with Sarah’s true whereabouts so I could find her. Well, I’m here. And, if you’ll forgive my impertinence, I’d like to see her now.”

  “Why?”

  Even Daphne started at Pierce’s sharp tone.

  “Why?” James repeated.

  “Precisely. Why? Is it because of her new, elevated position?”

  James gaped. “I don’t even know what the hell she does here.”

  “She teaches children. Damned well, by the way. Her position, incidentally, pays quite a bit better than the one at Black’s did.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  “I don’t know. Does it?”

  “No. I don’t want her bloody money. I want her.” James inhaled sharply. “Look, I don’t know what Sarah’s told you. But I’ll be frank. When Sarah and I parted, I didn’t deserve her or her love. As of now, I intend to change that. I’m not a poor man, Your Grace, only a restless one. I’ve been trained as a clerk. I’ve apprenticed under several fine solicitors over the years and accumulated a respectable sum of money and good credentials. I intend to open my own soliciting offices in whatever town Sarah chooses. Then I intend to make her my wife.”

  “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.