Andrea Kane (33 page)

Reflexively, Pierce’s arms tightened around his wife, overwhelmed by the miracle that was his. More fervently than ever he reiterated his silent vow that nothing, no one, would ever hurt Daphne again.

Not her father’s hatred.

Nor the exploits of the Tin Cup Bandit.

“Does Pierce seem well to you?” Daphne asked the vicar anxiously. Her friend blinked in surprise, glancing across the schoolroom to where Pierce stood amid the squealing children, watching Russet chase his tail in wide, vigorous circles.

“Why, yes, he seems fine. The children are enthralled, your reticent little fox cub has unconditionally befriended him. Why, even our difficult-to-please Miss Redmund is smiling. I’d say your new husband’s coming out has been an unequivocal success.” The clergyman studied Daphne’s furrowed brow. “What is disturbing you, Snowdrop?”

Daphne gave a tentative shrug. “I’m not certain. Pierce has been so preoccupied lately, as if something is troubling him, something he chooses not to discuss.”

“I noticed no sign of that when I visited Markham last week.”

“It’s worsened since then.”

“Have you questioned him?”

“Of course. He never quite answers. Nor does he deny being troubled. He only changes the subject as rapidly as possible.” She inclined her head quizzically. “Would you speak with him, Vicar?”

“What exactly is it you’d like me to say?”

“Convince him that he needn’t keep his emotional quandaries to himself. Remind him that love involves more than tenderness and passion. It involves friendship and trust. He respects you, Vicar. If anyone can convince him to share himself, that someone is you.”

A flash of insight flickered in the vicar’s eyes. “You know precisely what’s bothering your husband, don’t you?”

“I have my suspicions, yes. But that matters not. In this case it is Pierce who must come to me, not I, to him. Please, will you talk to him?”

“Very well, Snowdrop. As it happens, I have another matter I must discuss with Pierce today. I’ll bring your concerns up immediately thereafter.”

“Thank you.” Daphne squeezed his arm. “I feel better already.”

“Daphne?” Pierce called. “Would you like to tell the children of our proposed group project?”

She smiled, walking over to join her husband, pausing to scoop her exhausted pet from the floor. “I’d be delighted to.”

“What project?” Timmy demanded.

“How would you all like to help us put a new roof on the school?”

“Us?” William’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “But we don’t know nothin’ about buildin’.”

“Nor do we.” Daphne grinned. “But we’ve hired workmen who do. Tolerant, accommodating workmen who won’t mind having us underfoot as they hammer and nail.”

“Wow!”

“And that’s not all.” Daphne inclined her head proudly at her husband. “It appears we’ve amassed enough funds to arrange for a whole new schoolhouse to be built this spring. Isn’t that wonderful, Miss Redmund?”

“Hmm?” The schoolmistress was gazing at Pierce with a foolish expression on her face. “Yes, lovely.”

“Did ye ’ear what Daphne said, Miss Redmund?” Timmy demanded, staring at his teacher. “We’re gonna ’ave a new school soon. We ’ave lots of money.”

Miss Redmund blinked, her attention finally captured. “A new school? How on earth…?”

“I bet the duke is payin’ for it,” William guessed shrewdly.

“Are you
really
a duke?” one of the older boys asked.

A corner of Pierce’s mouth lifted. “It would seem so, yes.”

“ ’ey, Daphne. That makes ye a duchess,” Timmy informed her.

“So it does,” she agreed.

“Can we pat Russet now?” Evidently, Timmy’s awe over Daphne’s newly acquired title paled in comparison to his excitement over her pet.

“Only if you do so one at a time and only if I hold him. Russet is a bit wary around strangers. But the fact that he was showing off his tail-chasing skills is a good sign.” She stroked the cub’s silky head, murmuring softly to him until his ears flattened and he rubbed his chin and nose affectionately against Daphne’s hair. “I think he’s feeling receptive now,” she announced. “Timmy, would you like to be first since it was your idea?”

The children were all enjoying their visit with Russet when the vicar approached Pierce. “May we talk privately for a few moments?” he murmured.

Nodding, Pierce detached himself from the group, confident that the children were too engrossed to notice his absence. “What’s on your mind, Vicar?”

“As I’m sure your guards have advised you, I visited Rutland the day after I dined with you and Daphne.”

“You spoke with Elizabeth?”

“I did.” The vicar sighed. “She was quite shocked at first, and more than a little dubious that a Parliamentary divorce was possible. But I explained everything you said, and she’s willing to place her future in your hands, Pierce.” The clergyman’s expression softened, a reminiscent light dawning in his eyes. “Evidently, Elizabeth has managed to retain the peppery spark I recall from her youth. I thank God for that.”

“I’ll contact my solicitor at once, advise him to engage the finest barrister in all of England—and the boldest.” Pierce was already making plans aloud. “Then, directly after the holiday party at Benchley, I’ll leave for London and meet with them.” A corner of his mouth lifted in wry amusement. “Poor Hollingsby. I’ve hurled his orderly life into chaos these past weeks. And now he’ll have yet another unique legal proceeding to contend with on my behalf. Still, I rather suspect that, in his own way, he’ll enjoy challenging the odds and emerging triumphant, which I fully intend he should do. This is one victory I can hardly wait to savor.” Pierce met the vicar’s gaze. Keen insight blended with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For speaking with Elizabeth. I think we both know how much your encouragement influenced her decision.”

A shout of laughter interrupted their conversation.

Turning his head, Pierce chuckled as he watched Daphne trying to unseat Russet from his position of safety atop her head. “Evidently, Russet has had enough human contact for one day.”

“Your love for Daphne. You’ve accepted it, taken her into your heart.”

Pierce’s brows rose at the vicar’s unexpected assessment. “That shouldn’t surprise you. Not after our chat last week.”

“It doesn’t. But perhaps you need to reinforce that acceptance, not for my sake, but for your own,”

“Why?”

“Because love has many facets, some naturally and easily explored, others quite difficult. The beauty of the more resistant facets is that, once you’ve probed their depths, you have a lifetime to enjoy the brilliance you’ve unearthed.”

“To which resistant facets are you referring?”

Chambers cleared his throat. “When two people care for each other it’s only natural to want to share, not only your hearts and bodies, but your minds as well. Secrets, well meant or not, can do naught but drive a wedge between you. Remember Pierce, never confuse protection with exclusion. One nurtures, the other destroys.”

“You’ve been talking to Daphne.”

“She’s worried about you.”

“I know.” Wearily, Pierce rubbed the back of his neck. “And she needn’t be. I merely have an aspect of my past yet to resolve. Somehow I must do it, and soon.”

“But must you do it alone? Daphne loves you deeply, and she is far stronger than you might imagine. Let her share your unrest, Pierce.”

With a troubled sigh, Pierce replied, “I appreciate your advice, Vicar. I, better than anyone, know just how strong Daphne is. But this is not a matter of strength, ’tis a matter of safety. And Daphne’s safety supersedes all else, even the trust that has grown between us.” Pierce swallowed, his voice growing rough with emotion. “You see, Vicar, I’ve come to realize that my wife means more to me than anything: my past, my turmoil, even my own life.”

“I understand.” The clergyman nodded solemnly. “I also perceive that your current dilemma is not a minor one. Therefore, let me add one additional thought. Despite the short duration of our acquaintanceship, I hold you in the highest regard. I admire you and I respect you. In short, I consider you a friend. If ever you need a ready ear, I’d be pleased to provide one.”

“That means a great deal.” With a quick glance at Daphne and the children, Pierce added, “Unfortunately, this is one impasse I must conquer on my own.”

“Then may God help you do so.”

Soberly, Pierce rejoined his wife, wishing yet again that he could do as the vicar suggested: share his dilemma with Daphne and tell her of the decision he faced. He’d evaded the issue for weeks, buried his conflicting emotions in the sweet haven of Daphne’s body. But he could avoid the matter no longer. A determination needed to be made.

Would there be a future for the Tin Cup Bandit?

His fists balling at his sides, Pierce was besieged by the usual clashing sentiments, and the nearly irresistible urge to share his anguish with his wife. Silently, he berated himself, reasserting his original vow not to involve Daphne in the reality of his dual identity. Were he ever unmasked, he would be tried, and possibly hanged, for his crimes. And if Daphne had any knowledge of his actions, she would be implicated as well. No. It was simply too dangerous.

His mind was made up. The intricate crossroads he now confronted were his and his alone to traverse.

“Daphne, do ye think the Tin Cup Bandit can find yer new ’ouse as easily as ’e did yer old one?” Inadvertently, Timmy exploded into the very territory Pierce sought to escape. “Because if ’e can’t, ye won’t ever see him again.”

“ ’e’s not gonna rob ’er again, stupid,” William replied in an exasperated tone. “ ’e never robs the same person twice. Besides, why would ’e rob ’er now? She’s married to Pierce. And Pierce uses ’is money on us, not jewels and silver.”

Daphne cast a sidelong glance at her husband. “I don’t think it matters where the bandit strikes,” she concluded hastily. “So long as he continues to benefit those who need it.”

“Amen,” the vicar agreed.

Pierce felt his guts twist, the enormity of his quandary resurging full force.

What was he going to do?

Evading Daphne’s speculative gaze, Pierce stared out the window, reflecting back on the bandit’s inception and the motives that had incited it.

First and most impelling had been his thirst for vengeance, his need to rectify all the injustice suffered by the poor and effected by the rich. That obsession had melded with the restlessness in his soul, a desperate need to make a difference, to give his wretched life some meaning, his hollow heart some purpose.

From that restless outrage, the Tin Cup Bandit had been born.

Then he’d thrived, fed by the wild exhilaration of his perilous, crusades, the growing certainty that he could challenge the odds and win. Again and again, he’d revel in the incredible thrill of conquest, especially in light of the fact that his opponents were the abhorred nobility.

That had been then.

This was now.

And now there was Daphne.

Daphne, who filled his heart with love, leaving no room for vengeance, obliterating all the restlessness from his soul. Along with her love came a peace far more profound than his reckless exhilaration, planting the seeds for a future he’d never envisioned as possible. Until now there had been nothing at stake. Suddenly there was everything.

Which left only his need for justice.

Well, wasn’t that need being assuaged as well, not only extensively, but legally and without compromising his safety, or Daphne’s?

After all, as the newly instated Duke of Markham, he had all the money he needed. With every bank draft he wrote, every donation he made, wasn’t he effecting the very justice he sought by helping the helpless, ensuring a better life for the poor and hungry?

The answer was an unequivocal yes.

So what was holding him back? Why didn’t he just relegate the Tin Cup Bandit to the annals of history?

Because there was one nagging reality that wouldn’t be silenced.

I have a message for you.
Pierce could still see Daphne’s face, hear her words the night she’d faced the bandit in her bedchamber.
The children in the village school asked that, should you and I ever meet, I make certain you know you’re their hero. Which, given the vast potential of their loving hearts, is a most glowing tribute.

Timmy, William, Prudence, and all the other Timmys and Williams believed in him, relied on the valiant forays of the Tin Cup Bandit.

How could he forsake the children? He, who knew firsthand what it was like to have no one to rely upon, nothing to believe in. How could he take away the only person who’d ever offered them constancy and hope?

He couldn’t.

Pierce closed his eyes, a muscle working in his jaw.

“Don’t be angry,” Daphne said softly.

He blinked, stared dazedly at her. “What?”

“Don’t be angry. They’re only children. In their minds, the bandit is a hero.”

Vaguely, Pierce realized Daphne had interpreted his brooding silence as resurrected jealousy. “I’m not angry.”

She stroked his jaw. “I love you.”

Seizing her wrist, Pierce pressed his lips fiercely to her palm. “I know. And I’m not angry.” He glanced about, realizing Miss Redmund had resettled the children for their studies and the vicar was waiting tactfully at the door. “Evidently, I was engrossed in my thoughts.”

“So it would seem.” Daphne situated Russet in the crook of her arm, thoughtfully surveying her husband’s troubled expression. “Shall we go?”

Pierce nodded, staring beyond his wife to where the children were bent over their slates. “Yes,” he agreed in a hollow tone. “We’ve done all we can for today.”

“Were I not escorting the most beautiful woman in the room, I would abandon this ridiculous ball in an instant,” Pierce muttered in Daphne’s ear.

Daphne’s lips twitched as her husband whirled her about Benchley’s crowded ballroom. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

“Neither. Both statements are true. I loathe these pretentious gatherings, and you are so exquisite I very nearly locked our guest room door and rapidly divested you of the gown you so painstakingly donned.”