Chapter 12
Sometimes it felt like Pierce had no idea what he was doing and so he just trusted himself.
He knew that most people couldn’t do that, but he had been trusting himself to go, decision after decision after decision, for decades. And he’d been quite successful, so he wasn’t about to stop now.
Yes, he felt shame and confusion about his father.
Yes, he often hated himself for abandoning his father, no matter what anyone told him.
That was how he felt, that he had abandoned the man to his own demons.
But he had been unable to pull the man out of the fire.
And so Pierce had had to pull himself out to survive and he had done so.
Pierce had traveled the world. He had made friends. He had spent time with countless different people over countless countries, and he had grown, and he knew what was important. As far as he could tell, most people had no idea what was important.
People were important. Animals were important. Relationships were important. The truth was important.
And the truth was that over these weeks, he had lost his heart.
The kiss that had set a fire in his blood and helped to set him on the road of showing Nancy just how much he wanted her was but a small part of it.
Desire was powerful, and he wanted her. Bloody hell, he did.
But even more so, his heart was gone out of his keeping.
And he was delighted that it had up and run away to Nancy. How could he want anyone else but her?
Over these weeks, he had been forced to go to dinner parties.
He had been forced to go to balls because that’s what dukes did, and he was a good duke.
And each time he had gone to one of these events, watched by his friends who laughed continuously at his antics, he had become more and more clear about one particular thing: Nancy was for him.
And he was somehow going to make her his.
Every moment, he’d thought of their kiss. Every moment, he’d thought of how he felt in her company.
He had started a systematic campaign to win her, to make her understand how much he could do for her, but not only that.
He also wished to make her understand how much he could show his love.
Because he had realized something very, very important in these weeks, watching her work doggedly and devotedly.
No one, except perhaps her mother, had ever shown her such a thing. Certainly not her father. Certainly not the man who had taken over her father’s estates.
No, she had been on her own in this world, left to take care of her mother and herself. That was done. Even if she never chose him, she was never going to be alone. But by God, he was going to do everything that he could to get her to choose him.
And so with the help of Miss Eileen, Miss Pansy, and Miss Victoria, another room had been cleared and he himself had decorated it. He had contacted an old friend who had traveled with him and asked him to assist in the transformation of the chamber.
They had gone into the markets and found silks of every variety, and he had festooned the room, making it appear like his tent high in the Himalayas had.
That time had been one of the dearest of his life.
How he wished he could import the mountains, their awe-inspiring majesty, and the people there.
Pierce had not traveled as the great British lords did, taking England with them. No, wherever he went, he folded himself into the culture of the country.
In the room, he had hung paper stars from the ceiling, painted with gold and silver.
The fire crackled.
The windows were open, and the first kiss of cold had come into the room, for rain was now beginning to fall at the end of the summer.
Soon they would all head back to their estates. Soon, the balls would end. The dancing would stop, and everyone would take a pause until the hunting began.
And he wanted her to be his wife by then, but most of all, he wanted her to see what it was like to be loved.
The cushions were strewn everywhere. He could not take her out into the countryside.
He could not take her abroad. He understood that.
Her mother needed her, and he would never separate them.
No, he would do everything that he could to keep them together because it made them both better. And it filled him with such joy.
Her footsteps clattered in the hallway, and he turned to the door, his heart suddenly leaping, praying she would love what he had done.
She rushed into the room, for he had sent a message to her explaining that he wanted this room cataloged next. She had been busy in the library taking care of stacks and stacks of his father’s documents regarding the wine that he had bought over the years and sent to his various estates.
She came into the chamber, head down, scribbling in her notebook that was full to the brim with her tasks. “Your Grace,” she said. “Forgive me. I am very busy. Do you think our conversation can wait until dinnertime?”
“No,” he said. “It cannot. Look up.”
She hesitated, then did exactly as she was asked.
Her gasp filled the room.
“It is beautiful,” she breathed. “Who did this?”
He swallowed. “I did, with help from a few friends. You always seem awed by my travels, and yet we both know it is not possible for you to go on such a journey, at least not anytime soon. So, I thought, why not bring the journey to you?”
“Your Grace,” she breathed, softening, but then her spine stiffened as if she didn’t dare allow herself to have this for herself. “I am very busy.”
“Yes, you are,” he agreed. “So am I. But if we do not take time for these sorts of moments, what is the point of being alive?”
Her mouth tightened. “You make an admirable point, but I have my job.”
“Yes, and nowhere in my contract does it stipulate that you finish the job rapidly or that you work twenty-four hours of the day,” he explained carefully, patiently, kindly. “As a matter of fact, we’ve already discussed this. You will work better if you take time to yourself.”
“Then you won’t be staying?” she teased, closing her notebook at last.
“I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
She let out a sigh, and she met his eyes. “Oh, Pierce,” she whispered, and his name on her lips was pure heaven. “You know that I want you to stay. You know what you have done to me.”
“Oh,” he asked, desperate to hear it. “What have I done?”
She shook her head and took a step toward the fire. “You are trying to make me soft. You are trying to get me to yield to you. Not, I know, in any sort of seductive way. You wish me to set down everything I have built up.”
“That’s not true,” he countered, shocked.
“Isn’t it?” she protested, whipping back to him, a lock of her black hair tumbling out of its coil to dance along the shoulder of her blue gown.
He turned to the tray of wine and poured out two frothing glasses of champagne. He’d wanted this to be a celebration. But he wasn’t so sure now. Still, he wasn’t going to give up. He couldn’t. He held one out to her.
The champagne bubbled in the crystal.
He was silent for a moment, then said quite honestly, “I will happily leave you to yourself to enjoy this because, Nancy, there are no conditions to my help for you, but I need you to also understand that I want you for you.”
He sucked in a breath, then rushed, “I want you to be my wife.”
“Your wife?” she echoed, her eyes widening.
He nodded. “Can’t you tell?”
She sucked in a soft breath, shaking her head slowly as if it was too much to believe.
“Say yes.”
She looked back to the fire. She looked to the glass of champagne he held out, but it seemed a much bigger test than the taking of that glass, bigger than he’d realized.
Her brow creased as if a war waged inside her. “I want you to stay,” she blurted. “I want you to stay with all my heart, and I want this to be a moment between us,” she whispered. “But I fear that you are asking me to marry you because—”
“No,” he cut in swiftly. “You are going to be my wife because there is no duchess that could be better than you. I don’t even have to love you, though I do, to feel like you would be the best duchess that my dukedom has ever known.
You will organize me. You will take care of my role.
You will make my life perfect. You will sort everything out, and I will never need to worry another day that things are not going to go as they should, because I think you could organize the world, Nancy. ”
She laughed then. “I could. I truly could.”
“Then help me,” he said. “Help me sort those lords out in Parliament. Help me sort out my dukedom.”
“And you?” she queried. “Would you like me to sort you out?”
“Oh yes, please,” he said without hesitation, though he knew she needed him just as much. “Very much so. Help me to sort myself out because all I want is to know joy. All I want is to finally be at peace so that I can help others be at peace. Don’t you want the same?”
She nodded and, at long last, she dared to reach out and take the glass of champagne. Their fingertips brushed for a moment and the shock that traveled between them felt as if they were being fused together.
“Yes. Yes, I do,” she admitted, licking her lips. “And if you want me to be your wife, I won’t say no because… Pierce,” she said softly, “I love you. How could I not love you? Every day I see what a good man you are. Better than any I have ever known.”
“Good,” he said and held his open hand out to her. “Be with me,” he said. “Be mine. You don’t ever have to stop doing what you’re so good at. I will support everything that you do. We will support each other. Your mother will be well. You will be well, and you need never fear again.”
She laughed kindly at that, even as she contemplated his hand. “Oh, Pierce. I will let go of one set of fears only to find another. It is the state of humanity.”
He let out a groan. “I wish it wasn’t true, but I think that you’re correct. But in this moment, don’t you think we could eschew all of that and just have each other?”
She drew in a breath, set her notebook down on one of the low tables he had arranged, and she crossed over to him and took his hand in hers. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Then come, my lady,” he urged, gesturing to his paper stars. “And sit with me by the fire and look at the night sky.”
She beamed and allowed him indeed to bring her to the cushions.
He lowered her down before the fire, each of them keeping their glasses aloft.
He had picked things from many of the countries he had visited, not just Arabia.
There were items from India, there were items from Northern Africa, there were items from South America.
They were scattered about the low tables, positioned on the fireplace mantel, and tucked in the corners of the room.
“It looks as if you have rifled the world,” she teased.
“The English are excellent at doing that,” he said without hesitation. “But I was very careful about selecting these things and paid handsomely for them. I’m not a pirate,” he said, “or a privateer. I have too many friends in those places to so brutally take as so many others have done.”
Her eyes searched his face as she leaned in towards him. “I can’t imagine you brutally taking anything,” she said.
“No one has to brutally take anything,” he replied, “to get it. I wish more people understood that. All one has to do is make genuine friends, have a genuine understanding, and then negotiate.”
She tilted her head to the side, the curve of her neck beckoning. “Is this then a negotiation between us?” she asked.
“I think all relationships are a negotiation, and I think it’s foolish to say that they aren’t,” he replied simply. “What good would I achieve if it was all my way? The duke’s way? I would never learn anything new.”
“So, you wish us to share the best of each other?”
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s why I want to marry you, because you are so damn sensible.”
“It isn’t because of love?” she asked, looking to her champagne.
He let out a groan. He too eyed the bubbles in his champagne.
They were an excellent distraction, but then he took her chin with his free hand professed, “I do love you. I know that I do. There’s no question about it.
And I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you love me, but that’s not the point of marriage.
It never was. It never shall be, not really.
And I think anyone who thinks that love is the only point of marriage shall be desperately unhappy. ”
“What is it then?” she asked, her lips parting.
“You will give me things that I need, and I will give you things you need, and that is all. And from that, we will grow in love and mutual respect.”
Her gaze grew hooded. “Can you imagine if the rest of the world saw things that way?”
“What a place we would have,” he mused.
“Indeed,” she whispered. “Can you not go convince all the men to think the same?”
He laughed. “A few of my friends, I think, do think the same. And I’m growing ever more suspicious that one in particular does, though he will not throw himself into the fray.”
“Who is that?” she asked, her eyes brightening.
“The Duke of Rivers.”
“Oh, I like him,” she exclaimed. “He’s the one who got me this job.”
“Yes,” Pierce replied. “And I think, if I’m honest, that he knew what he was about when he sent you to me.”
“Is he clairvoyant then? Can he see the future?”
“Oh, I think he might. I think he is a very clever fellow indeed, and I’m deeply grateful for it.”
With that, he raised his champagne glass. “To the future Duchess of Windbourne?”
She shook her head. “To Pierce and Nancy.”