Last Duke

by Andrea Kane

  Sarah snapped out of her reverie. “First go to the kitchen and fetch some weak tea and a bland biscuit. And eat them. Else you’ll spend the day either swooning or retching.”

  “You’ve convinced me,” Daphne laughed. “And Sarah? Please consider my offer. I’d be proud to call you my friend.”

  A hesitant nod. “Thank you—Daphne.”

  With a warm inner glow, Daphne closed the door behind her, more determined than ever to carry out her plan.

  “Langley!” She hastened to the entranceway.

  The butler gave a tolerant sigh. “No sign of them yet, Your Grace.”

  “I didn’t intend to pester you again,” Daphne assured him. “I just wanted to make certain you’d eaten.”

  “I have. Three scones and two cups of tea. I’m now strong enough to continue my vigil well past noon.”

  “You’re a treasure, Langley. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Madam.”

  “Have you any idea where Pierce is?”

  “I believe the duke is in his study, Your Grace. He said something about writing out final instructions for the workmen.”

  “Excellent. I’ll find him.” Daphne took three steps, then swayed, blinking to clear her head. “Langley, would you mind asking Cook to send a pot of weak tea and some plain biscuits into Pierce’s study?”

  “Not at all. I’ll see to it at once.” Langley frowned. “However, first I shall assist you to the study. You’re looking far too peaked to manage on your own.”

  For once Daphne agreed, grateful for Langley’s arm as she made her way down the corridor.

  “Come in,” Pierce responded to the knock.

  “Forgive me, Your Grace,” Langley began. “But the duchess—”

  “Daphne.” Pierce was on his feet before the butler finished, crossing the room to wrap his arm about Daphne’s waist. Anxiously, he took in the pallor of her skin. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she assured him. “I just foolishly skipped breakfast. Langley has kindly offered to arrange for Cook to bring me some food.”

  “I’m on my way, sir,” the butler confirmed, hurrying off.

  Pierce scooped Daphne up and carried her over to a tufted chair. He started to put her down, then changed his mind, turning abruptly and seating himself, his wife clasped tightly to his chest, “Now I can make certain you stay put. Damn it, snow flame, what am I to do with you?”

  “The answers to that question are limitless,” she teased, snuggling against him. “A fact you yourself taught me. I’m fine,” she added, smoothing the lines of worry from his face. “Merely in need of nourishment.”

  “I’ll feed you myself. Then I’m taking you to your bedchamber where you are going to indulge in a nap. You’ve been pacing since dawn.”

  “I’m eager to see if anything has occurred between Mama and the vicar.”

  “Langley and I will send for you the moment they arrive. Won’t we, Langley?” Pierce questioned pointedly as the butler re-entered, tray in hand.

  “Most definitely, Your Grace.” Langley flushed a bit when he saw Daphne curled in Pierce’s lap, but he said nothing further, merely placing the food on the nearby table. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must resume my watch.” The slightest flicker of amusement. “A dedicated sentry never deserts his post.”

  The door closed behind him.

  There was a full moment of silence before Daphne turned incredulous eyes to her husband. “Did Langley just make a jest?”

  A rumble of laughter erupted from Pierce’s chest. “Yes, Snow flame, I believe he did. He also scarcely blushed upon finding you in my arms. It appears our Langley is thawing. Why, by next month I fully expect him to unclasp his hands from behind his back when I enter a room.” Still chuckling, Pierce leaned forward to scoop a biscuit off the plate. “Eat,” he commanded, bringing it to Daphne’s lips.

  “Yes, Your Grace.” She gave him a mock salute, then complied. “Pierce, I want to discuss something with—”

  “Not until at least two of those biscuits are gone,” he interrupted. “And just as many cups of tea.”

  “Very well.” Dutifully, Daphne chewed, amazed to find that Sarah was right. A bit of the right food made all the difference. “I feel wonderful,” she announced a quarter hour later.

  “Good. Then it’s time to have your nap.”

  “Wait.” Daphne lay a restraining hand on Pierce’s arm. “Before you relegate me to my bed, you promised to hear what was on my mind.”

  “Yes I did, didn’t I?” Sighing, Pierce resettled himself. “All right, Snow flame, I’m listening.”

  “It’s about Sarah. Pierce, she misses James so much. And the way she speaks of him, I’m certain they were deeply in love.”

  “Yet he deserted her when he found out she was with child.” Pierce’s jaw set. “You know how little use I have for that type of abandonment.”

  “I know.” Daphne caressed his nape. “But suppose James has had a change of heart? Suppose he’s realized how unfeeling he was, and how much he misses Sarah?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Sarah told me that when she left Black’s, the London pub in which she worked prior to Benchley, she gave them her forwarding address. But that address is no longer valid. Nor has Viscount Benchley any clue that Sarah is currently employed at Markham.”

  “Viscount Benchley?” Pierce gave a hollow laugh. “That bastard wouldn’t assist James if he did know Sarah’s whereabouts. Provide information to a common man? Inconceivable!”

  “Then you’ll help me?”

  “Help you do what? I won’t coerce the man to claim his child. If he hasn’t the character to do so on his own, then Sarah is better off without him.”

  “Yes she is,” Daphne concurred. “I’d never ask you to do that. All I ask is that you send one of your numerous contacts to Black’s to leave word where Sarah can be reached. This way, if James does have honorable intentions he can carry them out.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “And one thing more.” Daphne raised appealing eyes to her husband. “If James should come forward, can we find a position for him here at Markham? Sarah is so happy here. The children adore her and so do I. I want her to stay.”

  “Done.” Pierce ran his knuckles over Daphne’s cheek. “How can so delicate a woman have so tremendous a heart?”

  She kissed his fingertips. “To be worthy of your love, it could be no other way.”

  Scurrying footsteps from the hallway reached their ears, followed by the distinct sound of horses’ hooves.

  “Your Grace.” Langley knocked purposefully. “An approaching carriage.”

  Daphne leapt off Pierce’s lap and flung open the door. “Is it Mama and the vicar?”

  Langley blinked. “I’m not certain. I raced here the moment I saw the carriage appear. ’Twas too far off for me to discern its occupants.”

  “Then let’s do so together.” She turned to Pierce, who had come to his feet and joined them. “My nap will have to wait.”

  “A short while,” he conceded.

  Daphne reached the entranceway just in time to see Chambers assist her mother from the carriage. “Welcome, you two. At last.”

  With a look of immense pride, Elizabeth hurried forward to embrace her daughter. “Oh Daphne, I can’t believe it. A babe.” She cupped Daphne’s face, carefully scrutinizing her. “You look wonderful. A bit peaked, perhaps, but glowing and happy.”

  “As do you.” Daphne returned her mother’s inspection, amazed to see that, having shed her lines of suffering, Elizabeth looked a good ten years younger than she had scant weeks ago.

  “Your missive said you’ve been feeling poorly,” Elizabeth murmured anxiously. “Is it severe?”

  “Erratic. And sudden. The sickness and the lightheadedness strike abruptly, and disappear in the blink of an eye. In between, I feel splendid.”

>   “Well, I’m glad you sent for me. For us,” she added, smiling at the vicar.

  “Snowdrop.” Chambers took Daphne’s hands in his. “I’m delighted. May your child be blessed with good health and joy. He’s already blessed with two extraordinary parents who will love him or her with all their hearts.”

  “Oh, Vicar, I’m so glad you’re both here.” Daphne hugged him. “I’ve been awaiting your arrival for days.”

  “I had to properly decorate the manor at Rutland before leaving,” Elizabeth explained. “Since I plan to spend Christmas with you, I wanted the staff to have their own festivities. They’ve all been so good to me.” She grinned. “I confess, we arrived at Markham nearly an hour ago, but a friend of yours detained us.”

  “A friend?”

  “Yes. He watched us from a safe distance as we drove through the gates, but evidently he recognized me and approached the roadside, staring hopefully. I couldn’t disappoint him, especially not during so joyous an occasion as the celebration of my forthcoming grandchild. So I had Alfred stop before we even sighted the manor. Your friend is now feasting on Rutland’s wild strawberries and blackberries, which I had originally intended to become a pie.”

  Daphne rolled her eyes. “Russet knows precisely who will indulge him, Mama. Doubtless, he is enthralled by your arrival.”

  “As if you don’t spoil him,” Pierce commented dryly. “That fox eats more than I do.” He kissed Elizabeth’s hand. “We’re even more pleased than Russet to welcome you.”

  “For different reasons, I hope,” she teased back.

  Slipping unobtrusively by them, Langley assessed the number of bags in the carriage.

  “Mama, I’m sure you remember Langley from your previous stay.” Daphne tugged him forward proudly. “He is an indispensable member of our family.”

  “How are you, Langley?”

  The butler swallowed several times before replying. “Well, my lady.”

  On the heels of his greeting he bowed, but not before Daphne detected the uncustomary expression of emotion on his face.

  “You’ve also met Mr. Chambers,” she reminded him gently.

  “Good to see you again, Langley,” the vicar acknowledged.

  “Welcome, sir.” Another bow, after which Langley straightened, fully composed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll summon some footmen to carry in your bags.”

  The vicar stared after Langley’s retreating form. “You’ve rendered your magic again, Snowdrop.”

  Daphne’s delicate brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

  “Magic made all the more beautiful by its inherent existence and unconscious offering,” Pierce noted aloud, his expression tender.

  “Indeed,” Chambers concurred.

  “What are the two of you mumbling about?” Daphne demanded.

  “Nothing, Snow flame.” Pierce tucked her arm through his. “Shall we take our guests on a tour? This is, in a way, both your mother and the vicar’s first real visits to Markham. Your mother’s previous stay was a scant day and a half spent in hiding. As for the vicar, the evening he came to dinner we’d scarcely finished dessert before you brought the visit to a rapid close by fainting.” Pierce grinned at Chambers. “As you can guess, we’ve since deduced the cause of Daphne’s swoon.”

  “Indeed. Your forthcoming heir was announcing his creation.”

  “A tour sounds lovely.” Elizabeth cast a worried look at Daphne. “Are you certain you’re up to it, darling?”

  “I’m fine, Mama. Truly.”

  “Daphne will be with us only for the first few minutes,” Pierce stated in a voice that defied argument. “We’ll begin with the room Daphne takes the greatest pride in—our new schoolroom. After that, we’ll move to the second floor, at which point we will escort Daphne to her bedchamber for a much-needed nap. Agreed, Snow flame?”

  “Have I any choice?”

  “None.”

  The sun was an orange haze in the west when Elizabeth carried a tray into Daphne’s room. “Are you awake, dear?” she asked, approaching the bed.

  Daphne stretched and sat up. “Goodness! What time is it?”

  “Half after four. You were exhausted.” Elizabeth placed the tray on the nightstand and lowered herself to the edge of the bed. “And now you must be famished. I’ve brought you some plain broth, a bit of chicken, and fresh-baked bread.”

  “It sounds heavenly.” Daphne took the tray and began eating voraciously. “I cannot imagine why I’m so hungry,” she managed, between mouthfuls.

  “You’re eating for two now. ’Tis natural to require more.”

  Require more.

  Elizabeth’s phrase recalled Daphne’s original purpose in sending for her mother.

  Thoughtfully, she lay down her fork. “Mama, do you remember the morning I confided Pierce’s proposal to you?”

  “Of course.”

  “You said some things to me—things that implied you’d experienced a situation in which you allowed your heart to be silenced, and that you now regretted that decision. Do you recall?”

  Elizabeth lowered her gaze, stroked the edge of the bedcovers. “Yes, I recall.”

  “ ’Tis none of my business, but I must ask you anyway. Did that situation involve Mr. Chambers?”

  Startled, Elizabeth’s gaze lifted. “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t. Pierce guessed. He’s an incredibly insightful man.” Daphne leaned forward. “Did you love him, Mama?”

  A painful nod. “Yes. Very much.”

  “And he loved you.” Daphne needed no confirmation. “What happened? Why did you marry Father? How could you—” She broke off.

  “How could I choose a hateful man like your father over a fine man like Alfred?” Elizabeth sighed, staring off into space. “I wonder if you know how many times I’ve asked myself that over the years. Perhaps the Lord meant it to be this way so I might bring you into the world.”

  “Thank you,” Daphne whispered. “But that’s not an answer. When you wed Father you had no notion what children the marriage might produce. So why?”

  Slowly, Elizabeth rose, went to stand by the window. “I was fifteen when I met Alfred. He was three and twenty. There was a small gathering in our village to honor the new parish church. I attended with my parents. He was present, not as an established official, but as a young clergyman who was deeply committed to people and to God. I believe we fell in love the instant we met.” A pause. “Unfortunately, my parents had no intention of allowing their only daughter to throw her life away on a poor vicar whose ambitions were rooted in ideals rather than gold. If Alfred had been willing to further himself through the right channels, if he’d been seeking a future as a high-ranking Church official, then, perhaps they would have reconsidered. But he wasn’t, and they didn’t. Your father was introduced to me the next summer, during my first London Season. He was wealthy, titled, and successful. He asked for my hand; my father gave it.”

  “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.�
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  “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.”