The Last Duke (Thornton 1)

“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 the

y 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.”