Andrea Kane (43 page)

“But what about the vicar?”

“Alfred held me while I cried, soothed me when I confessed my fear of defying my parents. And then he let me go.” Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes. “It was the single most selfless gesture I’ve ever seen.”

Daphne swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Had the two of you plans to marry?”

“Without question. We’d spent hours visualizing our life together the cottage we’d share, filled with our children; the gardens we’d plant, flourishing with yellow roses. Yellow roses,” Elizabeth’s voice quavered, “were Alfred’s special gift to me. He brought a bouquet of them each time he visited. They came to signify the beauty of our love.”

Another reality struck. Raising her left hand, Daphne studied the delicate scrap of silver adorning her fourth finger. “This ring, the one the vicar bestowed upon us so Pierce and I might seal our vows—”

Elizabeth’s smile was tremulous. “That was Alfred’s sensitive way of passing on the miracle of our love. Whatever we were denied, he prayed God would grant you and Pierce.”

“Oh, Mama. Then initially he intended it for you.”

“Yes.” A choked sound. “Daphne, I loved him deeply, as he did me. But I just couldn’t—I wasn’t strong enough.” Elizabeth buried her face in her hands.

“I’m so sorry.” Daphne slipped off the bed and went to her mother, embracing her as if to absorb her pain.

“I shouldn’t be crying. ’Twas so long ago.”

“But it wasn’t. You love him still. And he loves you.”

Silence. Then, Elizabeth raised her head, dashing tears from her cheeks. “Some feelings never alter, I suppose, no matter how much better ’twould be for everyone if they would. You’re right. Alfred’s and my love has never faded. But neither have the restrictions that for more than a score of years have kept us apart. I was, and continue to be, Harwick’s wife.”

“Once, perhaps,” Daphne amended. “But now? You’re Father’s wife in name alone. You’re no longer even living in his house.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he and I exchanged vows. And neither Alfred nor I will cheapen our love by betraying those vows. In the sight of God and man, I belong to Harwick.”

“Not if Pierce has his way.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I see your husband has told you of his improbable plans for my future.”

“Rest assured, Mama. With Pierce, nothing is improbable. He has the most incredible way of making the impossible possible. And he is determined to procure this divorce for you. So please don’t lose faith.”

A small spark of hope flickered in Elizabeth’s eyes. “How can I? Pierce is not the only one who is certain he can accomplish this unlikely feat. Alfred is equally confident. Between Pierce’s belief in himself and Alfred’s belief in Pierce, ’tis hard to remain a skeptic.”

“And in the interim—” Daphne seized her mother’s hands. “You are happy, aren’t you Mama? I can see it all over your face. You’re away from Father’s brutality, safe and secure at Rutland.” A teasing light came into her eyes. “Where, I understand, the vicar has been paying you visits.”

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.”

“N
OW 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.”