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“How long have you been up?” Daphne asked, attempting to wrap his coat about her.
“A while.” Pierce stooped to retrieve his shirt. “I believe you’ll find this more comfortable.”
“Thank you.” Daphne shrugged into it and rose, buttoning the shirt as she came to stand beside her husband. “Are you all right?”
A corner of Pierce’s mouth lifted, and he feathered his fingers through her disheveled mane. “I believe that question belongs to me.”
Daphne blushed. “I’m fine. A bit tender, but fine.” Her smile was shy. “More than that, actually.”
“I’m glad.” He cupped her face, brushed his mouth gently across hers. “Although I fear our wedding night was as unconventional as our wedding. I apologize. The least I could have done was carried you to my bed.”
“I rather liked our makeshift bed—and the urgency that precluded us from leaving it,” Daphne confessed.
Pierce’s eyes darkened. “I wanted you again. The moment I awoke, in fact.”
“Then why didn’t you—?”
“You needed your rest. As it is, I overtaxed your poor body beyond its endurance.”
“I have no complaints. Neither does my body.”
Pierce chuckled, stroking her cheek bones. “There will be other nights, Snow flame. Countless ones. I promise.”
“But for today there is reality,” Daphne concluded, sobering as she interpreted his unspoken words.
“Yes,” he agreed solemnly. “For today there is reality.”
“Pierce,” Daphne took a deep breath, plunging right in, “we have much to discuss. To begin with, I’m concerned about going to Tragmore. Father is brutally angry. I’m afraid of what he might do.”
“I swore to you he’ll never hurt you again.”
“I wasn’t referring to myself. I’m not the only one Father has hurt.”
“I’ll ensure your mother’s safety as well.”
“I wasn’t referring to Mama either. I was referring to you.” She saw her husband go rigid, but pressed on nonetheless. “What did he do to you, Pierce? Why do you hate him so?”
“This is a complex issue, Daphne, one I’ve never discussed. To be frank, I’m not sure I’m able to.”
“You must.” Daphne lay a tentative hand on his chest. “Again and again, you’ve spoken of the undeniable wonder that draws us together. You’ve asked for my trust and I’ve gladly offered it. You asked for my hand in marriage, and, although I hadn’t a chance to properly accept your proposal, I intended to, joyfully. I’ve just become your wife—in every way—and the physical joining we shared was more beautiful than I ever imagined, much less believed; possible. Is all that not powerful enough for you to offer me even a shred of trust in return? Pierce,” she caressed his jaw, urging it down so their gazes locked, “I know the coldness that lines my father’s heart. Please tell me. What has he done to you?”
“Nearly killed me,” Pierce bit out. “Me and hundreds of other pathetic children who had no manner of protection and nowhere to turn.”
“How?”
Some unknown emotion compelled him to continue. “I told you I grew up in a workhouse. The headmaster was a contemptible, greedy son of a bitch who got his position by knowing certain influential people, one nobleman in particular. The arrangement was simple. Barrings retained his job in exchange for providing the man who ensured it with a healthy portion of the workhouse donations. The rich prospered, the headmaster prevailed, and the children starved, and were beaten mercilessly by men who felt urchins were better off dead.”
Daphne paled, but she didn’t flinch or look away. “Your story doesn’t surprise me. The vicar has warned me such arrangements exist.”
“Has he? Has he told you what it’s like to be whipped until you bleed? Starved until you faint? Tormented until you’re numb? Has he told you what’s it like to see your mother die before your eyes, then have her denied a proper burial? And all because of the sick whims of a certain nobleman? The same nobleman who stole your money and ensured your suffering by keeping Barrings at the helm?”
Sick at heart, Daphne murmured, “You’re telling me that man was my father.”
“Yes. That’s what I’m telling you.”
“How often did he whip you?”
“Whenever I or any of the children had the misfortune to stumble into his path. In between visits, he left strict orders for Barrings to thrash us daily, if he wanted to remain the headmaster.”
