The Last Duke (Thornton 1)

“ ’Tis an honest one.” Daphne studied Sarah’s face. “Are you happy at Markham?”

“Oh, yes.” Sarah’s eyes glowed. “I never realized how much I would enjoy teaching children until you and the duke offered me the opportunity to do so. To be given a chance, without censure or scorn—” Sarah paused. “I wonder if you can imagine what that means to me.”

“I can and I do.” Daphne inclined her head. “But I wish you would realize how very much you give others in return. Not only the children, who have come alive after mere days of your teaching, but me.” Rubbing the folds of her gown between her fingers, Daphne added, “My father is a horrible man, Sarah, as I’m sure you recall. I’ve never been allowed companionship. Father even forbade me to visit our local vicar, who is truly my only friend. Having another woman to laugh with, to chat with, to share confidences with—that would be miraculous. Would you consider such a friendship?”

“You’re asking me to befriend you?”

“Is that so astonishing?” Daphne asked with a quizzical expression.

“In all candor, Your Grace, we have nothing in common.”

“I beg to differ with you. In my opinion, we have everything in common. All but our social position, which is a mere accident of fate. I invite you to name another disparity between us.”

A flicker of a smile. “You win.” The smile faded

, and Sarah lowered her gaze, carefully weighing her next words. “I would like to be your friend, truly I would. But frankly, I’m not certain I’d know how. I’ve never shared laughter or confidences with anyone.”

“Perhaps you’ve never met someone worthy enough to share them with.”

A sad smile. “I don’t easily accept people into my heart. And truthfully, no one’s ever taken me into theirs.”

“Not even James?” Daphne questioned softly.

“James.” A film of tears veiled Sarah’s eyes, and she quickly brushed them away. “I suppose he was the exception. But when it truly mattered, the feelings between us weren’t strong enough.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. He turned sheet white when I told him I was with child. Then he muttered something about needing to think. That was the last time I saw him.”

“Perhaps he was dazed. The reality of becoming a father, especially since it was unanticipated, must have left him reeling.”

“Unanticipated,” Sarah echoed. “I suppose it was. But, as I told you at Benchley, he made his intentions clear from the onset of our involvement. His restless spirit would not be tamed, nor would his independence be compromised.”

“Did he love you?”

“In his way, yes.”

“Did he tell you so?”

Again, a sad flicker of memory. “On occasion, yes.”

“Sarah.” Daphne rose to her feet. “Does James know where to find you?”

Sarah turned away. “Don’t you understand, Your Grace. He doesn’t want to find me.”

“My name is Daphne, and that doesn’t answer my question.”

“No—Daphne. He has no idea where to find me. Unless, of course, he inquired at Black’s, the tavern in London where we met. When I accepted the position as a serving maid and left for Benchley, I provided Black’s tavern keeper with the location of my new residence.”

“I see.” Daphne ingested that thoughtfully. She wanted to inquire further but refrained, sensing Sarah’s reticence. Moreover, an idea was forming in her mind, and she was impatient to find Pierce to explore it. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “I’d best make certain Langley has eaten some of Cook’s scones.” A grin. “I’m sure his reaction to them was more flattering than mine.”

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.