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“She’d be ostracized by nearly everyone she knows.”
“Perhaps. But do you truly believe that would be a great enough deterrent to stop her?”
“No,” the vicar replied, his tone rich with memory’s keen recall. “Deep inside Elizabeth lies the same strong and independent girl I knew in my youth.”
“I agree. I’ve seen traces of that girl myself.”
The two men’s gazes locked.
Roughly, Chambers cleared his throat. “What can I do to help?”
“Talk to her. I think we both know she’ll listen to you.”
“Very well, Pierce. I’ll try.”
“Cook is hovering over our first course, ensuring its perfection,” Daphne announced as she re-entered the room. “Having tasted it myself, I can assure you it is heavenly. She, however, is dubious. Hence, the entire staff, footmen and serving girls alike, are cajoling her into relinquishing it into their capable hands. Whoever is successful will be along straightaway with our food.” Instantly, Daphne’s alert gaze flickered from her husband to her old friend. “What are you two discussing so heatedly?”
“You,” Pierce replied, coming to his feet. “The vicar was just reminding me of my great fortune and excellent taste in wives.”
“And your husband was just concurring with my assessment,” Chambers added.
Daphne flushed. “You’re both inordinately biased. Besides, it is I who am fortunate. Not many women can boast of dining with two such heroic men at one time.” She smiled up at Pierce, settling herself at the table. “Speaking of heroics,” she turned to the vicar, “did Pierce tell you he plans to donate all the profits he reaped from his latest business investment—nearly twenty thousand pounds—to the parish schoolhouse? Why, with that vast sum we can provide, not only a new roof, but a whole new structure—a sturdier, warmer one, perhaps even of brick, plus new slates, books,” Daphne’s eyes twinkled, “even higher wages for Miss Redmund. Why, our subdued schoolmistress might just break down and smile; even laugh outright.”
“No, he didn’t mention it.” A myriad of emotions crossed the vicar’s face. “God bless you, Pierce. Such generosity defies words.”
“None are necessary.” Determination hardened Pierce’s features. “Children need both love and hope in order to survive, much less flourish. I have the funds to provide them with hope, and Daphne has the fullness of heart to provide them with love. If my wife and I have our way, those children will never know the onus of futility.”
Joy and pride shone in Daphne’s eyes, followed by a spark of illumination. “Vicar, what would you think about the children and us helping to rebuild their schoolhouse? I know we’re not trained,” she added hastily, seeing the vicar’s surprised expression, “and perhaps all we can do is hand tools to the workmen. But think of the sense of fellowship it would give the children, the wondrous feeling of working side by side to accomplish something important to us all. Why, we’d be like a family, a unit. Wouldn’t that teach them one of life’s most important lessons: that respect, cooperation, and hard work yield success? Wouldn’t it give them a tremendous sense of accomplishment? Of sharing? Of pride?”
“Enough!” the vicar laughed. “I can’t dispute your point, Snowdrop. Nor can I think of any reason why we can’t participate in the school’s restoration.”
“Pierce?” Daphne waited for her husband’s response.
A corner of Pierce’s mouth lifted. “It’s December, sweetheart. Hardly the time to begin so massive an undertaking.”
“But the roof is old and rotted. It can’t last until spring.” Daphne sat up straighter as another idea dawned. “How would it be if we replaced the roof immediately, and waited to rebuild the schoolhouse until spring? That would give us time to hire an architect who could, in turn, have three months to devise the most beneficial plans possible for a new school. We’d begin building on the site just after the first thaw. Why, we’d
have months to erect the new structure.”
Laughter erupted from Pierce’s chest. “How can I argue with such unbridled enthusiasm? Your plan is excellent. I’ll begin contacting workmen tomorrow. The new roof is as good as on.”
“Oh, thank you, Pierce.” Daphne leaned forward, impulsively hugging her husband. “When may we tell the children? I’ve missed visiting them, and I so want you to meet them, and they you. Perhaps we can convince Russet to finally join us.”
“Vicar?” Pierce turned to their guest. “When is your next scheduled visit to the schoolhouse? My wife, her fox, and I would like to join you.”
“I have business to attend to over the next few days,” Chambers said, giving Pierce a meaningful look. “How would next week be?”
“Excellent,” Pierce concurred at once.
“No, it isn’t.” Daphne looked positively crestfallen. “We accepted our first holiday invitation for next week. Viscount Benchley is hosting a lavish Christmas party at his country estate. We agreed to attend weeks ago.”
“We could send our regrets,” Pierce suggested.
“Don’t tempt her,” the vicar said affectionately. “Given a choice between an elegant ball and an afternoon at the schoolhouse, Daphne will undoubtedly opt for the latter.” Growing sober, he took Daphne’s hand. “I want you to go, Snowdrop. The merriment will do you good. Besides, the joy you share with your new husband is contagious. Perhaps you can infect others with it.”
“But the children—”
“When does the party commence?”
