Chapter Sixteen

“Hold still,” Pierce ordered the squirming child in his dripping arms. If she didn’t settle, he was likely to drop her back into the brown water. Granted, she was already doused from head to toe, so it wasn’t as if he could save her muslin gown. But the river was so thick with sediment, if she slipped under the surface again, he might not find her a second time.

“I want to see ducks!” Emilia protested.

“You can see ducks from the bank,” he said as he slogged toward the shore. After his cruel treatments while he was in Bedlam, Pierce had a healthy respect for water and its power. But he hadn’t paused at the river’s edge when he first saw the little girl tumble into it. He had followed her into the spate without question. His footing shifted on the slippery rocks beneath him. The current tugged at his thighs, and he tensed with each step.

Emilia balled her fist and pounded his chest. “You are a mean, mean man.”

“If it’s mean not to allow you to drown, then I wholeheartedly concur. I am the meanest man alive.”

The little girl started blubbering, which was much worse than having her call him names and pummel him. Tears streamed down her ruddy cheeks, and she shook in his arms.

How does one deal with children?

He opened his mind to hers and discovered that despite her bluster, she was not angry. Emilia was terrified. Pierce held her more tightly.

“You’re all right. I’ve got you. We’ll find your parents, and everything will be fine.”

“No, it won’t,” she said with a sniff and a fresh round of tears. “Mamma will be mad because I soiled my new frock.”

“She may well be,” he said agreeably, which earned him a fresh pounding. “Women put a great deal of store in fripperies and such, but she’d be much more upset if you’d been swept away. A frock can be replaced. You cannot.”

Emilia stopped knocking on his chest and swiped her eyes with the back of her little hand. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Pierce assured her. Honora burst through the undergrowth and stood wringing her hands as they advanced toward the shore. Her relief crashed over him in palpable waves. “Your mamma loves you very much.”

“Papa, too?”

“How could he not?”

Nora’s face was etched with longing as she stumbled down to the muddy edge of the river, her arms outstretched to receive the child from him.

But before he could reach Nora, another couple came scuffling through the woods, breaking off saplings in their haste and calling Emilia’s name. The man and woman burst through the thick greenery.

“Mamma!” the child sang out. “Papa, I’m here.”

The woman scrambled down the embankment and pushed in front of Nora to snatch Emilia from Pierce’s arms. Nora stepped back several paces, her expression stricken. Mrs. Hobarth hugged the little girl as if she’d never let her go.

Pierce watched Nora, amazed that the Hobarths didn’t seem to notice her intensity. Her longing to hold her daughter was so sharp, it was a wonder she didn’t prick herself on it and bleed all over the shoreline.

“Oh, Emilia, you wicked child, we were that worried, weren’t we, Mr. H.?” But Mrs. Hobarth’s tone belied her stern words. The woman fought back tears as she gave the girl a slight shake. “You mustn’t wander off. Promise you’ll never do that to your father and me again.”

Mr. Hobarth pumped Pierce’s hand, spouting his thanks in a flurry of grateful, sometimes incoherent, appreciation. When the couple took their leave, Emilia was between them, her hands firmly held by both adults.

“Well, they’ve had quite a scare,” Pierce said as he sat on a driftwood log and tugged off his wet boots. “I doubt she’ll slip away from them so easily again.”

Mutely, Nora sank down beside him, her gaze glued to the opposite bank of the river. She knotted her fingers together so tightly, her knuckles went white. Once Pierce emptied the water from his boots and set them aside, he took her hands. They were icy, despite the warmth of the day.

A single tear glided down her cheek.

“I didn’t get to hold her. You were coming toward me with her and I thought I’d…just once…only for a little while…” She turned her face away from him, as if that could hide her pain. “It wasn’t too much to ask, was it?”

He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I didn’t hold her when she was born, you know. The midwife said it would be best not to. She was probably right. I couldn’t have let her go otherwise.” Nora covered her face with her hands and sobbed. “But who would it hurt if I held her now?”

“You,” he said softly. “Because you’d still have to let her go.”

He put his arm around her waist, and she turned back to him to lean her head on his shoulder. She shook with grief, but she made no sound. All her sorrow was bottled inside.

More than anything he wanted to fix this for her. That was what it meant to be a man, wasn’t it? He was supposed to solve problems and make the world a good place, a safe place for those he loved. His questionable sanity hadn’t made him someone anyone could depend upon for that sort of protection. Until now.

He ached for Nora to trust him with this.

The words blurted out of his mouth before he thought them through. “You should marry me.”

“I should what?”

“Marry me,” he said firmly. “I’ll hire the right solicitor, and he’ll arrange to void whatever agreement your man of business made with the Hobarths. I have a country estate. Emilia could come to live with us. Fresh air, sunshine, everything a growing child needs. She could even have a pony.”

She sat up straight and met his gaze, a bit of wonderment in her expression as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time. Then a tremulous smile lifted her lips, and she palmed his cheeks. “You dear man, if only it were that simple.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because while it would be wonderful for me to have her, it wouldn’t be the best thing for my daughter. My reputation would taint her. Besides, after seeing Emilia with the Hobarths, I couldn’t take her from them. She loves them and they love her. Being torn from the only home she’s ever known would be devastating. I may be many things, but I hope I’m not that selfish.”

Nora knew what it was to be exiled from home, and it was something to consider before totally upending a child’s world. But it pricked his feelings that she focused exclusively on how his proposal would affect Emilia. Didn’t it mean anything to her that he wanted to marry her?

Perhaps if he solved this problem, she’d come round to the idea of marrying him. He could hire the Hobarths to work on his country estate in some capacity. If they all came to live there, Nora could watch her daughter grow to adulthood and become part of her world without disrupting her attachment to the Hobarths. He was about to suggest this alternate proposal, when Nora rose to her feet.

“Besides, I can’t marry you, Pierce. What would happen to Benedick if I did?”

A heavy weight lodged in his chest. She cared more about her patron than she did him. “Albemarle would simply find a new mistress to hide behind.”

“That’s just it. He’d be taking a terrible risk by sharing his secret with yet another person.” She began to pace along the riverbank. “He frequently has to deal with rumors over this issue, but gossip and sworn testimony are two different things. Participating in unnatural acts is a capital offense, you know. If the rumors were proved true, they’d hang him, for sure.”

Pierce frowned at that. It didn’t seem fair. Why were some loves sanctioned and others labeled unnatural? Wasn’t love the same emotion no matter who was involved? And wasn’t it rare enough for two souls to find each other that it ought to be celebrated each time it happened?

As if they’d conjured him by speaking his name, Lord Albemarle appeared farther down the river. His Grace walked by his side.

“Ah, I see Benedick is touting his plans to the duke.” Nora stopped pacing.

“What plans?”

“This river changes too much with the seasons to be navigable year around. Benedick means to see a canal dug through this area and needs His Grace to support the effort in the House of Lords.”

“That sounds like a good scheme,” Pierce said woodenly. It irked him to say anything positive about Albemarle since the baron’s needs seemed to be instrumental in keeping Nora from agreeing to marry him. “A canal would certainly benefit the village.”

“True, though it will benefit Albemarle and his friends more. They’ve already formed a consortium and bought up the land along the proposed route.”

How like a politician. Doing good on one hand while making good with the other. Pierce decided to take another tack and at least accomplish something positive for the Order.

“You fear he’ll hang if his secret passions are unmasked, but just as surely, Lord Albemarle is risking hanging if he uses the Fides Pulvis on the Prince Regent. If you care about Albemarle as much as you claim, you’d steal that powder and replace it with something less virulent.”

“I could never betray Albemarle’s trust like that.” She sank down beside him again. “You don’t understand how much he’s done for me.”

“Yes, yes, he makes it possible for you to provide for your daughter. I know.”

“That’s only part of it,” she said. “He also saved me from having to sell myself again and again. Before him, I couldn’t seem to keep a patron for longer than six months.”

“Because your heart wasn’t in it,” Pierce said.

“Well, that’s part of the whole arrangement, isn’t it? Heaven help the courtesan who falls in love,” she said defensively. “At any rate, when I hit a rough patch between patrons, my mentor in the business decided an auction would be the best way to relaunch me in demimonde society.”

“Plenty of men would pay handsomely to use the daughter of an earl.”

She looked at him sharply. “I wasn’t going to put it that bluntly, but you’re right. And plenty did bid high. If Benedick hadn’t outbid them all, who knows how many lovers I’d have had by now?” She covered one of his hands with hers. “I may have the reputation of being a high flyer, but my protectors have actually been few and, until I met you, I’ve taken no man to my bed without a signed contract since my husband died.”

So, she hadn’t known so many men, after all. Pierce had decided that he could lay her livelihood aside, that it didn’t matter to him, but the knowledge that she’d given herself willingly to him, and only him, pleased him out of all knowing. “I suppose I must be grateful to Lord Albemarle too, then.”

“Yes, you must. Besides, it’s not as if he wants to use the Fides Pulvis on the Prince Regent. He hasn’t much choice as long as his enemies are in possession of some incriminating letters he wrote to an old lover.”

So Albemarle was being blackmailed. “Have you any idea who has the letters?”

She nodded. “His Italian lover. And to make matters worse, the man is actually on English soil. His name is Falco.”

A waterlogged memory nudged Pierce’s brain. “Dr. Falco?”

“Yes,” she said, eyeing him quizzically. “When they parted, Benedick left him with enough money to learn a trade, and he became a doctor. You see why I can’t turn my back on him? Benedick is unfailingly generous. I don’t know what I’d do without his patronage.”

Marry me, Pierce thought desperately. He could be generous, too. If she wouldn’t accept his love, why wouldn’t she at least accept his help?

Maybe she could, he decided. If she didn’t know he was giving it.