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“Mr. Chapman,” Daphne acknowledged. He was much as she’d expected: tall and dark, with sharp, intelligent features, not classically handsome but overwhelmingly charismatic. “I assume, from your arrival at Markham, that the tavern keeper at Black’s advised you of Sarah’s whereabouts.” She waited.
His reaction was immediate. “Then she is here?”
“Yes, she’s here.”
“Thank the lord.” James raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been combing London for her, stopping in every pub and coffeehouse I pass.”
“Really?” Pierce tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What made you think she was in London?”
“At first, I didn’t. Originally, that fellow at Black’s gave me the address of some big country estate. Said she’d left Black’s to take a better job as a maid.” He frowned, rubbing the brim of his hat. “Well, I went there—Benchley it was called—and the Viscount slammed the door in my face after curtly declaring that no one by the name of Sarah Cooke had ever worked at his estate.”
Pierce’s jaw tightened fractionally but he said nothing.
“Anyway, I thought maybe Sarah had purposely left a phony address at Black’s to mislead me. So I returned to London, and my search.”
“Why would Sarah intentionally mislead you?” Pierce prompted.
“Because she might not want me to find her.” James averted his head. “The last time we saw each other she was terribly angry. And with good reason.”
“Really? What reason was that?”
James stiffened. “With all due respect, Your Grace, Sarah’s and my relationship is between the two of us. I don’t want to jeopardize her job at Markham, whatever that is, but I won’t stand here and discuss our arguments with you either. I presume you left that note at Black’s supplying me with Sarah’s true whereabouts so I could find her. Well, I’m here. And, if you’ll forgive my impertinence, I’d like to see her now.”
“Why?”
Even Daphne started at Pierce’s sharp tone.
“Why?” James repeated.
“Precisely. Why? Is it because of her new, elevated position?”
James gaped. “I don’t even know what the hell she does here.”
“She teaches children. Damned well, by the way. Her position, incidentally, pays quite a bit better than the one at Black’s did.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“I don’t know. Does it?”
“No. I don’t want her bloody money. I want her.” James inhaled sharply. “Look, I don’t know what Sarah’s told you. But I’ll be frank. When Sarah and I parted, I didn’t deserve her or her love. As of now, I intend to change that. I’m not a poor man, Your Grace, only a restless one. I’ve been trained as a clerk. I’ve apprenticed under several fine solicitors over the years and accumulated a respectable sum of money and good credentials. I intend to open my own soliciting offices in whatever town Sarah chooses. Then I intend to make her my wife.”
“I see.” Pierce cleared his throat. “Mr. Chapman, I realize I’m being harsh and intrusive. I agree that your situation with Sarah is your business and no one else’s. But Sarah is a much valued member of my household. Consequently, I do not want her hurt or upset.”
“Neither do I. In the name of heaven, she’s carrying my—” James broke off abruptly.
“We know about the babe, Mr. Chapman,” Daphne said quietly. “That’s one of the reasons we’re being so protective.” With unbiased compassion, Daphne took in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the lines of suffering about his mouth. Then she turned to Pierce. “I think we should send for Sarah.”
Pierce inclined his head, his gaze meeting his wife’s.
“My exceptional instincts,” she said softly, simply. “Please. This time in particular, heed them.”
The tension drained slowly from Pierce’s taut frame. “All right, Snow flame,” he concurred. Then he looked about, calling, “Langley.”
“Yes, sir?” The butler hastened to their side.
“Please summon Miss Sarah. Tell her she has a visitor.”
“Very good, sir.”
