The Last Duke (Thornton 1)

“Never better.” He tossed off the second drink, refilling the glass yet again.

“I think your husband is just nervous,” Chambers put in, visibly amused. “Perhaps my visit is proving to be more taxing than he expected.”

“Indeed.” Pierce stared broodingly into his drink.

“What on earth are the two of you talking about?” Daphne demanded. “Nothing unnerves Pierce, so why should a dinner gathering?”

“Perhaps that was true once, but no longer.” The vicar sipped at his drink. “Not since you became his wife, Snowdrop. Now, anything that affects you affects your husband. Which is as it should be. You’ll be cared for and safe.”

Pierce’s head came up, like a wolf scenting danger. “Safe? Has Tragmore—?”

“No, nothing like that.” Chambers negated Pierce’s fears with an emphatic shake of his head. “I was just speaking generally. I haven’t seen Harwick since the two of you signed your agreement. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“You’re certain you haven’t seen him? Not even at Rutland?”

“Not either of the times I visited, no.”

Daphne stared from one man to the other. “You’ve been at Rutland?” she asked the vicar at last.

“I wanted to verify that your mother was well.” He smiled. “Which, as you know, she is.”

“We visited Mama last week.” Daphne inclined her head in Pierce’s direction. “You knew of the vicar’s visits?”

“My guards advised me, yes.”

“You said nothing.” Daphne’s brows drew together. “Neither, for that matter, did Mama.”

A corner of Pierce’s mouth lifted. “Despite my unorthodox upbringing, I do believe it is the mother who oversees her children, not the other way around.”

“I suppose so. Still, I would think she’d say something.”

“Not to mention how abbreviated our visit was.” Pierce’s eyes twinkled wickedly. “The two of you had scarcely begun chatting when our carriage was on its way back to Markham. There was hardly time for tea, much less conversation. It appears you and I have become surprisingly attached to this estate. One venture from its grounds and we can scarcely wait to return. An interesting twist of fate.”

“Let me refill your drink, Vicar,” Daphne urged hastily, her charming blush telling Pierce she’d grasped the implication of his words.

“I haven’t finished this one.” The vicar looked suspiciously close to laughter. “But I am quite famished,” he added, graciously providing Daphne with the diversion she sought. “And whatever your cook has prepared smells superb.”

“Wonderful!” Daphne gestured toward the table. “Please, sit. I’ll check with Cook to see if our first course is ready.”

Her departure was nearly as rapid as Langley’s.

Chuckling, Pierce watched Daphne bolt, thinking how damned arousing her innocence was, how intoxicating he found each one of her facets. So shy in public, so passionate in bed. His beautiful, dazzling snow flame.

“There’s no shame in loving your wife,” the vicar murmured, studying Pierce with far-reaching wisdom.

“No, there isn’t.” Stiffening, Pierce made his way to the table and lowered himself into his chair. “Shame is not an issue. Risk is.”

“Risk?” The vicar frowned, settling himself beside Pierce and immediately concentrating on the task of unfolding his napkin. “Funny, I seem to recall Daphne mentioning you were an exceptional gambler. According to her, the Markham investments have soared since you assumed your title.”

“She’s right. I am an exceptional gambler. And part of being an exceptional gambler is recognizing what you’re willing to wager and what you’re not. Sometimes the risk is simply too great.”

“And sometimes the risk is nonexistent.”

A muscle worked in Pierce’s jaw.

“Daphne is deeply in love with you. You’re a lucky man, one who has everything to gain and nothing to lose.”

“Nothing to lose? I beg to differ with you, Vicar. I’m submerged in unchartered waters, wagering something I never knew I possessed and can’t fathom losing. In short, I’m terrified.” Pierce averted his head. “You say I’m lucky. Well, I’ve never relied upon luck, nor has it ever been my ally. All my life I fought for what I needed: food, money, survival. I battled for each victory with my blood, my sweat, or both. Now I’m being offered this rare and priceless gift, one I need far more than all the others combined.” He drew a sharp breath. “And I keep waiting for it to be snatched away.”