Chapter 30
An hour in the sunlight with Hugh almost eased Margaret’s worries.
Almost. She sat in the gardens with Hugh nestled against her, allowing the warm sunshine to fall across them both while he played with a ribbon tied around her sleeve.
The air smelled of roses and freshly cut grass, and for once Margaret was not thinking about where Pierce had gone or how many days had passed since his departure.
She smiled down at Hugh as he babbled happily, and then, quite suddenly, he looked directly at her. "Mama!"
Margaret went utterly still. For one extraordinary moment she wondered whether she had imagined it, but Hugh reached for her with both hands and repeated, "Mama," his little face brightening with delight.
"Oh, my darling," Margaret whispered, tears immediately filling her eyes as she gathered him against her.
She kissed his soft cheek again and again, laughing through the tears that slipped down her face.
He had said it. Her little boy had actually called her Mama.
The word seemed to reach somewhere inside her that she had not even known was aching, filling her with such fierce love that everything else disappeared.
She barely noticed the footsteps approaching across the lawn, too absorbed in Hugh to recognize that someone had entered the garden. It was only when a cold voice interrupted her happiness that she finally looked up.
"How touching," Harrowby said, standing several yards away with a sneer upon his face.
Margaret's blood turned cold. She immediately pulled Hugh tighter against her chest.
"How did you get onto the estate?" she demanded, her voice sharp despite the fear suddenly tightening her throat.
Harrowby gave a humorless laugh and gestured towards the distant boundary. "I climbed the fence."
Margaret stared at him in disbelief.
"Leave," she ordered, holding Hugh securely against her. "You have no business being here."
Harrowby's expression hardened as he looked at her, and Margaret saw the fury beneath his contempt.
"You really believe he has won, don't you?" Harrowby asked, taking a step towards her. "Pierce stole my rights," he continued, his voice thick with bitterness. "He stole my bride, my future, my life. Everything that should have belonged to me."
His gaze shifted towards Hugh, and something inside Margaret screamed a warning before he even spoke again. "Since the duke stole something from me, I shall steal something in return."
Margaret's arms tightened around Hugh. She knew immediately what he meant, and terror surged through her so violently that she could scarcely breathe.
She did not waste another second. Margaret stood up and ran. She clutched Hugh against her with one arm while gathering her skirts with the other, racing towards the house as fast as her legs could carry her.
"Help!" she screamed, her voice breaking across the gardens. "Help me!"
Hugh began to cry, and Margaret's heart pounded as she glanced over her shoulder.
Harrowby was coming after them. He was faster.
"Please!" she cried, pushing herself harder. She could hear his footsteps drawing nearer, and panic threatened to overwhelm her. She had to get Hugh inside. She had to get him somewhere safe.
Harrowby caught her before she reached the house. His hand seized her arm, wrenching her backwards, and Margaret cried out as she twisted desperately to keep Hugh away from him.
"Give me the child!" he snarled, reaching for Hugh.
"No!" Margaret screamed, turning her body so that she became a shield between them.
She held Hugh against her chest and curled herself around him, taking every grasping hand against her shoulders rather than allowing Harrowby to touch the child.
"You will not have him!" she shouted, fighting with every ounce of strength she possessed.
Hugh screamed beneath her protection, and Margaret's only thought was that she would rather die than let this man take him.
Then suddenly the pressure vanished.
Margaret nearly stumbled from the force of the change. She turned, confused, and saw Pierce. He had Harrowby by the coat and was driving him backwards across the lawn, his face transformed by a fury Margaret had never witnessed before.
"Pierce!" she cried, but her relief lasted only a heartbeat because she saw the knife in Harrowby's hand.
Pierce was unarmed. Harrowby lunged, and Pierce twisted aside just as the blade flashed through the air. Margaret's heart stopped. Her husband was fighting for his life.
"Take Hugh inside!" Pierce barked.
She ran to the house because Hugh was still in her arms, and she knew she had to get him somewhere safe.
"Help!" she screamed again as she raced across the lawn. "His Grace is being attacked!"
Mrs. Norris threw open the door before Margaret reached it, and several footmen appeared behind her.
"At the far right corner of the garden!" Margaret gasped, pointing frantically. "Harrowby has a knife. His Grace is fighting him!"
The footmen stormed towards the garden while Mrs. Norris reached for Hugh.
Margaret handed the child over with trembling hands. "Take him inside and lock the doors," she ordered, barely able to breathe. "Do not open them for anyone until I return."
Mrs. Norris pulled Hugh against her, her expression grave, while Margaret was already turning away.
"Your Grace!" the housekeeper called, but Margaret did not stop. She ran back into the gardens, her skirts catching around her ankles and her heart pounding with terror.
As she raced towards the distant struggle, a single thought overwhelmed everything else.
She had spent days telling herself she could manage without Pierce, pretending that his absence did not frighten her and that she could occupy herself with Hugh until he returned.
But now she knew the truth with a clarity so painful it nearly stopped her.
She could not lose him. She could not imagine waking to an empty bed because he had never returned.
She could not raise Hugh alone, could not return to the life she had known before Pierce, because somewhere along the way he had become the center of her world.
"I cannot lose you," she whispered desperately as she ran faster. Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to slow. "I cannot lose Pierce. I will die without him."
She stopped so abruptly that her skirts swept around her ankles, her breath catching painfully in her throat as she took in the scene before her.
Pierce was standing, though his coat was torn and several cuts marked his face and hands, while two footmen held Harrowby between them.
The Viscount was on his knees in the grass, breathing heavily, the knife lying several feet away where one of the servants had kicked it out of reach.
Margaret stared at Pierce for one terrible second, hardly daring to believe that he was alive and standing before her.
"Summon the constables," Pierce ordered one of the footmen, his voice low but commanding despite the blood visible upon his sleeve. "Tell them Viscount Harrowby will be taken into custody immediately."
The servant bowed and hurried towards the house, while Harrowby struggled against the men restraining him.
Margaret barely noticed him. Her entire world had narrowed to Pierce, and the sight of him upright was the only thing keeping her knees from giving way beneath her.
He looked towards her, and the severity in his expression vanished.
"Margaret." Pierce crossed the grass towards her with astonishing speed.
She rushed forward at the same time, nearly colliding with him as she threw her arms around his waist.
"Hugh is safe," she cried, clutching him desperately.
"He is completely unharmed. I gave him to Mrs. Norris, and she locked him inside.
Harrowby never touched him. He did not even lay a finger upon him.
" She repeated the words as though saying them often enough could erase the terror of the past few minutes.
"He is safe, Pierce. He is inside the house. I promise you, he is safe."
Pierce's arms closed around her, but Margaret could feel his body tense beneath her hands.
"And you?" he demanded, pulling back enough to look at her. His hands moved over her shoulders and arms, searching for injuries, his gaze travelling anxiously over her face. "Are you hurt?"
Margaret shook her head rapidly, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. "No. No, I am fine. I should have stayed inside, though. You were right. I should have listened to you."
Her voice broke as she pressed a hand to her mouth. "Outside is not safe. You told me, and I did not listen, and now look what happened."
"Margaret, breathe," Pierce said gently, placing both hands around her face. She tried, but her lungs seemed incapable of remembering how. Every breath came too quickly, and every thought returned to Hugh's frightened cry or the flash of Harrowby's knife.
"Hugh was nearly taken because I was outside," she sobbed, shaking her head. "I should have known better. I should have."
Pierce pulled her firmly against his chest before she could finish, wrapping both arms around her and holding her so tightly that she could feel his heartbeat beneath his shirt.
For several moments he said nothing. He simply held her while she cried, one hand moving slowly over her hair and the other remaining secure against her back.
Gradually, the trembling eased. Margaret's breathing slowed against his chest, and she allowed herself to feel the solid warmth of him beneath her palms. She had been so frightened that she had thought her heart might stop, but now that he was holding her, the terror began to drain away.
She realized she had been gripping his coat so fiercely that her fingers ached.
Yet she could not make herself release him.
She had come within minutes of losing him, and the knowledge had stripped away every last excuse she had made for pretending she could bear his absences without consequence.
Pierce finally drew back, though he kept one hand around hers. "You are certain you are unharmed?" he asked, studying her face.
Margaret nodded through her tears. "I am certain."
He searched her expression for another moment before finally seeming satisfied. Then his features changed, and Margaret saw something in his eyes that frightened her more than anger ever could. It was guilt.
"I already knew Hugh was safe," he said quietly.
Margaret frowned. "How?"
Pierce's thumb brushed across her knuckles. "Because you are his mother, Margaret. I knew you would do everything in your power to protect him." His voice tightened. "It is I who failed you both."
Margaret stared at him as he continued, unable to interrupt. "I was supposed to keep you safe. I was supposed to protect this family, yet I left you here while I chased shadows halfway across the country."
"Pierce, no," Margaret whispered, reaching for him, but he shook his head. "I will never forgive myself for that."
His gaze dropped briefly before returning to hers.
"I spent so much time trying to guard against an uncertain future that I failed to see the present slipping away from me.
I believed that if I uncovered every secret, found every threat, and controlled every possible danger, then I could keep you safe.
" His jaw tightened. "But I was not here when you needed me. "
Margaret's heart broke at the pain in his voice. She stepped closer and placed both hands against his face. "You came back," she whispered. "That is what matters."
Pierce closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch as though he had finally exhausted every defense he possessed. When he opened them again, there was no duke's mask, no commanding certainty, no carefully guarded distance. There was only the man she loved.
"I love you," he said, the words quiet but absolute.
Margaret's breath caught. She had dreamed of hearing them, yet nothing could have prepared her for the tenderness with which he spoke them.
She rose onto her toes and kissed him, her tears still damp upon her cheeks. "I love you too," she whispered against his lips.
Pierce kissed her again, slower this time, and Margaret felt every wall between them collapse. All the fears, misunderstandings, pride, and guarded words seemed to dissolve beneath the simple truth they had finally spoken aloud.
When they parted, Margaret rested her forehead against his. "We should go back to Hugh," she murmured, giving a watery little laugh.
Pierce's mouth curved into a smile as he brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "We will. But I am staying here till the constable comes. Go to Hugh and I will meet you inside. I have a surprise for you."
Margaret looked at him suspiciously. "After this morning, I am not certain I trust any surprise."
Pierce gave a quiet laugh. "This one, Duchess, I think you will like."