The Last Duke (Thornton 1)

“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.