Andrea Kane (40 page)

A faint sigh was his only reply, sparking a new worry.

“Daphne. The babe—I tried not to give you my full weight.”

“Your heir and I both feel wonderful, Your Grace.” Daphne kissed his damp throat. “And we retract the undeserved comments we made about your sense of adventure being lacking.”

Laughter rumbled from Pierce’s chest. “I’m glad I redeemed myself.” His grin turned wicked. “We’ll soon see who is truly the bold one, you or I. Any second you’re going to realize what we just did; and where.”

Even as he spoke, reality struck full force. “Lord, Pierce, we just made love on the—in the—”

“On the desk in our new schoolroom,” Pierce supplied helpfully. “The question is, will you be able to walk in here when Sarah is seated at this desk instructing the children, and not succumb to blushes?”

“Never. Every time I come in, I’ll remember.” Daphne tilted her head back, gave Pierce an incredulous look. “You won’t be at all embarrassed, will you?”

“Not even a bit.” Pierce kissed the furrow between her brows. “But I’ll enjoy watching you. You’re enchanting when you blush.” Gently, he set her on her feet. “Speaking of which, we should get dressed. I distinctly recall your mentioning that the chalk and slates are soon to be delivered, and I don’t think even your newfound abandon could withstand being discovered in our current state.”

He chuckled as Daphne turned a bright shade of crimson, practically flying about the room in her haste to don her clothes.

Ten minutes later Pierce unlocked the door. “Safe,” he teased, glancing up and down the empty hallway. “And undiscovered.” Turning back, he met Daphne’s sober expression. “Snow flame? What is it?”

“Would you mind closing the door? I’d like to talk.”

“Of course.” Pierce did as she’d asked, his brows drawn in query.

“We haven’t talked,
truly
talked, since the robbery,” Daphne began. “The emotions were too raw, the revelations too new. But now, especially after what we just shared, I need to know. Are you still angry with me? Not only for assisting you at Benchley in my current condition, but for keeping from you that I was with child?”

A shadow of emotion crossed Pierce’s face. Steeling himself, he forced out the gnawing question that had hovered between them, unasked, all week. “How long have you known?”

“The possibility flitted through my mind the night the vicar came to dinner, when I suffered that uncustomary fainting spell. At first, I gave it no credence. But the next morning, I began feeling queasy, mainly at mealtimes. During our brief stay at Benchley, I kept experiencing that same lightheadedness, and the odd sensation of being out of sorts. As I was dressing for the ball, it suddenly occurred to me I haven’t bled since our wedding. That’s when I knew.” Daphne crossed the room, grasped Pierce’s forearms. “ ’Twas only two days. And my reasons for remaining silent were sound. Please don’t be angry.”

“I wasn’t angry,” he responded, shaking his head. “Bewildered. Hurt. Even a bit betrayed, if I’m to be honest.” He cupped her face. “Honesty. Where was it, Daphne? We’ve always had that between us, right from the start.”

“To a degree, yes,” she clarified. “But, if you recall, there were several things, such as your identity, that you refrained from telling me.”

“Only to protect you.”

“Precisely.” Daphne lay her own hands over his. “That was my motive as well.”

Pierce’s gaze delved deep inside her. “How would denying me the joy of knowing about our babe protect me? Surely you guessed what a child, our child, would mean to me. The only reason you could possibly have for not telling me is—”

“Is?” she prompted.

“That a small part of you is uncertain about the depth of my commitment. That you wonder if perhaps I’d want you to bear my child only to satisfy the terms of my father’s will.”

“Oh, Pierce.” Daphne wrapped her arms about his waist. “Is that what you assumed? For a brilliant man, you’re a bloody fool. I’ve never doubted your feelings. Lord knows, I perceived them long before you spoke them aloud. Nor have I given that absurd codicil a second thought since you told me of its existence. Doubt had nothing to do with my decision.”

“Then why?”

“You were in torment,” she said in a broken whisper. “The choice you were contemplating was tearing you apart. If I told you about the babe, you would have abandoned the bandit’s cause posthaste, whether or not you truly chose to. I couldn’t live with myself if you did that. So I waited, hoping you would share your secret with me, praying you’d make a decision that would grant you peace.” A tremulous smile hovered about her lips. “The instant you did, I sang out my news, not only for your sake, but for my own.” She leaned up, brushed her lips to his. “I know exactly how much you want this child—and why. I want it just as much.” Her voice faltered. “I love you so.”

“Without you,” he shuddered, enfolding her in his arms, “I have nothing.”

“You have me. Always. As I have you.” Tears shimmered in Daphne’s eyes. “We’ll surrender our hearts—and our secrets.”

“Have you others I don’t know of?”

The wariness of his tone made her laugh. “None.” She inclined her head. “Have you?”

Surprisingly, he hesitated. “Not a secret,” he replied at length. “A suspicion. And an issue I have yet to discuss with you.”

Daphne’s teasing vanished. “What is it?”

“First I want you to sit down. Not because the subject will upset you,” he added hastily, “but because I want you to rest.” He traced the pale contours of her cheeks. “Between the intensity of our talk and, prior to that, our unexpected, exhilarating liaison on the desk,” his eyes twinkled when she blushed, “I’ve overtaxed your strength.”

“Very well.” Daphne pulled back a chair and sat. “Now tell me what this is about.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “Has your mother ever made reference to her past? Before she married your father, that is.”

Whatever Daphne had expected, it wasn’t this. “My mother? I don’t understand.”

“Did she ever mention that there had been another man in her life? Someone she cared for? Someone important?”

Memory struck Daphne with the impact of a blow. “As a matter of fact, yes. Not directly, but in a roundabout manner. “I was the morning I told her of your proposal. She urged me to follow my heart. Her implication was that she hadn’t, but wished she had. Why do you ask?”

“Because I believe I know to whom her heart belonged—still belongs,” Pierce amended. “You would, too, were you not so close to the situation.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Chambers.” Seeing Daphne’s eyes widen, Pierce pressed on. “Think about it, Snow flame. The caring that exists between them; the terribly protective way he looks out for her, hurts for her pain. And the ring.” He gestured toward Daphne’s hand. “When he wed us, he mentioned how significant that particular ring was to him.”

“At which point Mama began to cry,” Daphne mused aloud, realization dawning in her eyes. “Yes, it makes sense. He’s known Mama since childhood, worries incessantly about my father’s inexcusable brutality—toward me, yes, but most especially toward Mama. And the way they looked at each other in the church. I thought at the time it was merely friendship, but it was more.” She gazed wonderingly up at Pierce. “What made you guess?”

“As I said, I’m more objective than you. Snatches of phrases, chance innuendos.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “And those infallible instincts of mine.”

Daphne didn’t return the smile. Lost in thought, she rubbed pleats of her gown between her fingers. “This is dreadful. Not only were they denied their love once, lord only knows why, but they can still never be together, not even now that we’ve wrested Mama from Father’s brutality.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Wrong?” She started. “Mama is Father’s chattel, you know that, Pierce. How on earth can she extricate herself from that? Not to mention that she’s far too moral to carry on an illicit affair. As is the vicar, who’s the most honorable of men.”

“That’s where the issue I mentioned comes in.”

“I’m totally at sea.”

Pierce folded his arms across his chest. “I’m working with Hollingsby and a barrister who I’m told is an expert in matters such as these. I intend to help your mother secure a legal divorce.”

“A divorce.” Daphne repeated the words as if they were foreign. “Does Mama know you’re doing this?”

“Of course. I have her full cooperation, and the vicar’s as well.”

Slowly, Daphne rose to her feet. “You’ve certainly been busy. A divorce.” She turned questioning eyes to her husband. “But won’t that prohibit Mama from remarrying?”

“Not if the divorce is issued by Parliament, no. And I mean to ensure that it is.”

“How?”

Another grin. “I’m the Duke of Markham, remember? Wealthy beyond our wildest comprehension, influential beyond our grandest imaginings. Combine that with cunning, skill, and instinct, and success is guaranteed.”

“Will it take long?”

“Some time, yes. Why?”

“Because I hate the thought of Mama and Mr. Chambers being apart any longer than necessary.” Daphne chewed her lip. “The question is, what can we do to bring them together?” Her face lit up. “I know! I’ll send Mama a missive telling her I’m with child, that I’m not feeling well and require her assistance. She’ll leave for Markham immediately.” Just as quickly, Daphne’s face fell. “But how can I summon the vicar? What excuse can I give for needing him at Markham?”

“You need no excuse. We’ll simply send him a message informing him that Elizabeth is leaving Rutland for Markham. We’ll express our concern for her safety, given that Tragmore obviously knows her whereabouts, and request that the vicar chaperon her here. He’ll be on his way just as swiftly as she.”

A brilliant smile lit Daphne’s face. “Have I told you how wonderful you are?”

“I believe so.” Pierce tugged her close. “However, now that we’ve resolved the plights of the world, and all our secrets are out, I feel we should adjourn to my bedchamber where I can truly show you how wonderful—”

A purposeful knock interrupted Pierce’s suggestion.

“The arrival of the chalk, probably,” Daphne laughed.

“And the slates,” Pierce added mournfully. “Very well. I’ll curtail my enthusiasm. But later tonight—”

Another knock, accompanied by a “Your Grace?”

“Yes Langley.” Reluctantly, Pierce released Daphne. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Langley cast a tentative glance into the room. “Forgive me, sir, but Mr. Hollingsby is here to see you.”

“Ah. Thank you, Langley. Show him in.”

Hollingsby strode into the schoolroom, hand extended. “Hello, Thornton. I hope I’m not coming at an inopportune time?”

“No, of course not.” Pierce kept his expression carefully nondescript, despite Daphne’s revealing blush. “Sweetheart, you know Mr. Hollingsby, don’t you?”

“Certainly. We’ve met at Tragmore. How are you, sir?”

“Quite well, thank you.” Hollingsby bowed. “Congratulations on your marriage, Your Gra—Mrs—” He broke off, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Proudly, it’s Mrs. Thornton,” Daphne supplied. “But neither formality is necessary. Daphne will suffice.”

Hollingsby cocked a brow. “A woman as irreverent as you, Thornton.”

“Proudly, yes.” Pierce grinned. “What can I offer you?”

“Nothing. I came here directly from—” Another hesitation.

“Daphne knows about our plans for her mother’s divorce,” Pierce informed him. “So if your visit relates to that, feel free to speak.”

“Very well. I just left Tragmore. The marquis didn’t take kindly to what we have planned.”

“I didn’t expect that he would.”

Daphne inhaled sharply. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll see to the missives we just discussed.”

Pierce caught her elbow. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. But I need not hear of my father’s temper. I’ve experienced it firsthand. And I am eager to pursue that other matter we spoke of.”

“Fine.” Pierce nodded his understanding.

“Good day, Mr. Hollingsby.” Daphne gathered up her skirts. “ ’Twas a pleasure to see you again.”

“And you, Daphne.” Hollingsby watched her go, then turned back to Pierce. “I hope I didn’t unnerve her.”

“You didn’t. But it’s just as well that she not be involved. I don’t want Daphne upset in any way, especially now.”

“Now?”

A tender smile touched Pierce’s lips. “Daphne is carrying my child.” Abruptly, he cut off Hollingsby’s anticipated response. “And if you so much as mention that bloody codicil I’ll have you thrown out.”

“I didn’t plan to.” With a flicker of surprise, the solicitor studied Pierce’s face. “You love your wife a great deal.”

“A great deal.”

“It’s obvious she feels the same. You’re a lucky man, Thornton.”

“Very lucky. Daphne’s love is the most precious of gifts, one I intend to pass on to our child. He’ll be part of a home, with both a mother
and
father who want him. Never will he be forced to struggle for survival, nor will he know the futility of abandonment.”

“And if he is a she?”

Pierce grinned. “Then I’ll probably spoil her shamelessly, especially if she resembles her mother.”

“I’m delighted for you. May the future more than make up for all the past has denied you.”

“Up until recently, I would have claimed that to be impossible. But now, since Daphne,” Pierce shook his head in wonder, “I’m starting to believe in tomorrow, in happiness, even in prayers.”

“Is that why you’re working so hard to answer Lady Tragmore’s?”

Instantly, Pierce’s smile vanished. “No. In Elizabeth’s case, I’m determined to free her from a man I know to be a monster.”

“Tragmore detests you as much as you do him. Oh, he was irate when I terminated our business association. More so when I brought up the divorce. But he became livid when I mentioned your name, though he did his best to hide it.” Hollingsby chuckled. “I truly think he was restraining himself from striking me.”

“I expected something of the kind.”

“You have quite a history together, I gather.”

“You gather correctly.” Pierce cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I missed that meeting we’d scheduled for last week. Have you any preliminary information for me regarding the divorce?”