by Wolf, Bree
Only moments later, he was swallowed up by the night, guiding his steed in a wide circle around the neighborhood where his own townhouse could be found as well. In a darkened corner, he removed the black mask and slipped it inside his coat before pulling off the black cloak. He rolled up the billowing fabric and tied it to the back of his saddle.
Now, he seemed for all intents and purposes like a peer out about town. After all, did he not have a dark reputation to uphold? Did his peers not call him the Black Baron behind his back?
Pierce chuckled. If only they knew how right they were!
Dawn was already approaching by the time Pierce returned home.
Letting himself in through the side gate, he made his way to the stables where he brushed down his snorting horse before feeding the animal an extra bucket of oats to counteract the tiresome activity that night.
His gelding nickered gratefully.
Then Pierce headed into the house, relieved that no one was about. He had never deemed it right to have people wait on him hand and foot. He was a baron, but that didn’t make him a better man. The men and women he employed were good people, and they deserved his respect. They certainly deserved a good night’s sleep without being forced from their beds simply because he had decided to return home late. If he chose to do so, then he could very well take care of his gelding on his own.
It was as simple as that.
Climbing the steps of the large staircase leading from the front hall up to the first floor, Pierce felt his blood freeze in his veins when a piercing scream suddenly tore through the night’s stillness.
His heart slammed to a halt and his body froze, one foot half-risen to take the next step.
Then a second ticked by and, in the next instant, Pierce found himself bounding up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, anger mixing with urgency as he surged down the hall toward the nursery.
Daphne’s screams tore into his heart, bringing back memories neither one of them could seem to shake.
Throwing open the door, Pierce crossed the chamber in large strides, his gaze focused on the five-year-old girl curled up in bed, clutching the blanket to her chest and screaming at the top of her lungs. “Daphne!” he called her name as his hands settled gently upon her shoulders. “Wake up! You’re dreaming!” He pulled her into his arms as her screams slowly began to lessen. “All is well, Sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’m here. Hush, now. All is well.”
Wrapping her in his arms, Pierce carried her around the room, holding her tight, a slight bounce in his step. His hand brushed over her back as her little arms snaked around his neck, and he could feel her tears against his skin. “Hush, little one. All is well.”
Distant footsteps echoed along the corridor, and Pierce turned toward the door just as Miss Glass burst into the chamber. She wore a robe over her nightshirt and a cap on her head, her young face pale and her eyes wide with concern. The moment she saw him, a hint of relief came to her eyes. “Oh, my lord, it is you.” Her gaze moved to Daphne. “Is she all right?”
Pierce nodded at the child’s governess. “She’ll be fine, Miss Glass. Go on back to bed. I’ll take care of her.”
A kind smile came to her face before she nodded and then stepped back out into the corridor, closing the door behind her.
Seating himself in the rocking chair in the corner by the hearth, Pierce gathered the girl onto his lap, her dark brown eyes now wide open as she looked up at him. “Did you have a dream?”
Daphne nodded, her trembling hands still clutching his shirt. “They were coming,” she whispered, a slight hiccup contorting her speech. “They were coming after me.”
Pierce inhaled a deep breath and wrapped her tighter into his embrace until she settled her head on his shoulder, her little hands still holding on to him tightly. “It was only a dream,” he whispered into her hair. “No one is here, and no one will come for you. I swear it.” He looked down at her, once again marveling at those wide brown eyes. “I would never allow anyone to hurt you. I promise.”
A small smile tickled her lips and she snuggled closer. “I know.”
Those two words sent a jolt through his heart, for nothing had ever affected him the way Daphne’s love and trust did every day. She’d suffered as no child ever should, and yet, she still gave her heart freely…and to him of all people.
“Good night, Father,” she whispered against his neck, her breath warm on his skin, her voice once again heavy with slumber.
Pierce swallowed. Father.
The word never failed to bring on a flood of guilt for he had not always been her father. Once, Daphne had had two parents, a mother and a father who’d loved her dearly. Her father had been a doctor, and one night about two years ago, he’d been called to a nearby village. His wife and daughter had accompanied him as they’d planned to visit friends in London.
And then disaster had struck.
Or rather his peers had.
To this day, Pierce was not certain who the masked men had been and he could not help but look for them in every peer he robbed for their speech that night had suggested that they had not been mere criminals. Still, he had never found them and the sense of powerlessness that came over him whenever his thoughts were drawn back to that night riled him beyond measure. If only he’d been there sooner! If only he could have saved Daphne’s parents!
The hour had been late when he had set out from a friend’s house. He’d been expected back in London by morning and he had meant to leave sooner. But the company of old friends had detained him. When he had finally gotten up onto his horse, the night had been pitch-black, an eerie silence settling over the country roads leading back to town.
Up on a small slope, he’d spied London in the distance, silhouetted against the darkened sky, the moon’s silvery rays touching its roofs and towers. And then he had heard it.
The thundering drum of hoof beats.
The rattle of wheels racing across hardened ground.
Screams of terror and then…
…shots fired in the dark.
And laughter.
Never would he forget the laughter. It had been a sport for them. Hunting down a family of innocents. It was the nightmare that haunted Pierce’s darkest hours. The nightmare that urged him to don the black mask and seek…
What?
Vengeance?
Justice?
A bit of both?
Looking down at Daphne, Pierce brushed a chestnut brown curl from her forehead, her small chest rising and falling in peaceful slumber once again. Most nights, the girl slept well, but every once in a while, her mind forced her to relive the moment she’d lost everything.
Pierce knew he would never forgive himself for failing her that night. So, he’d done everything in his power to see her safe and to ensure that she never again would have a reason to fear anything.
Or anyone.
Pierce knew his nightly excursions could very well send him to an early grave. He’d already taken care of the girl’s future, leaving her well provided for in his will. Just in case. Everything that was not entailed would go to Daphne and the people he was responsible for.
To see them safe.
To see that she was provided for.
That she was safe and protected.
Never would Pierce employ anyone he could not trust beyond the shadow of a doubt. He had a keen sense of the human character and knew within seconds the measurements of another’s heart. Still, even good people could fail, especially where fortunes were concerned, and so he did not wish to leave his steward in charge without supervision from a trusted friend.
Unfortunately, those were hard to come by these days.
Pierce had hoped to find a guardian for Daphne. The only man he deemed trustworthy enough to take care of her without thinking of his own needs first was currently touring Europe.
That night two years ago had changed Pierce. It had changed his life, and he had realized that most of those he’d called friend did not deserve the name. T
he only man who had withstood Pierce’s new evaluation of his friends’ characters had been Hugh Lawrence, the Duke of Ashhaven.
In Eton, they had met as young boys and bonded despite their different tempers and personalities when, one Christmas, they’d found themselves the only two with no home to return to for the holidays. Ash’s parents had just passed away, and his guardian had had no desire for the company of a grieving boy. Pierce’s family had never been close and, that year, they’d simply forgotten he existed.
Still, looking back, it had been a blessing, for Pierce knew no friendship he cherished beyond Ash’s.
But would Ash accept the guardianship? How would he raise Daphne should it come to it?
Pierce loved Ash like a brother, but after his parents’ loss, Ash had become almost obsessed with the notion to make them proud, to fulfill all their hopes and dreams. He had never acted out. Never rebelled. He didn’t drink. He didn’t gamble. He did everything just right, always afraid to disappoint.
Would he be good for Daphne? Could he love her and care for her?
Looking down at the precious, little girl in his arms, Pierce could not help but smile for he knew better than anyone that Daphne had untold powers. After all, she’d wormed her way into his heart after he’d thought it had turned to stone. No doubt, she’d melt Ash’s resolve in no more than a week’s time. No one had ever been able to resist those big, brown eyes of hers.
No one.
Not even him.
It was the one weakness he cherished.
As he would always cherish her.
Chapter Three
Across the Dance Floor
The Cavendish ball felt like a hothouse.
Tugging on her high collar, Caroline dragged her cousin through the crowd, her eyes sweeping her surroundings, searching for the refreshment table. That, in and of itself, was quite a difficult feat considering her sight was obstructed by a pair of monstrous spectacles. Still, her throat was dry, and she began to feel beads of sweat forming on her temple. Indeed, the trouble with modest, gentlemen-deterring attire was that it made one feel as though one were being boiled alive.
Of course, Rebecca could not help but point that out, a teasing twinkle in her dark green eyes. “Didn’t I suggest a lighter fabric? Or less fabric, to be precise?”
Indeed, the suggestion sounded heavenly! However, Caroline had a reputation to maintain and could ill-afford to draw a gentleman’s attention. Judging from the way Lord Coleridge more often than not seemed all but glued to her cousin’s side—much to Rebecca’s disgust!—proved said point nicely. “Where is the refreshment table? I fear I need something to drink.”
After elbowing their way through the crowd, Caroline gulped down a glass of lemonade, sighing as the cold liquid soothed her throat and at least momentarily counteracted the burning heat that lingered in her body. Perhaps she was getting ill!
“Are you all right?” Rebecca asked, her brows slightly drawn in concern. “You seem distracted, not quite like yourself.”
Caroline could not deny that her cousin’s observation was spot-on. However, appearances had to be maintained at all times. “I’m all right,” she replied quickly, cursing her thoughts as they drew her involuntarily back to the problem at hand. “It’s nothing.”
In fact, it was far from nothing.
A first estimate had shown that half the building the children’s home was currently housed in was in danger of crumbling to the ground like a house of cards at any moment. Mr. Wolsey, the children’s home director, however, did not seem to care, his attention span awfully limited by the disinterest he had in the children under his care. It had taken Caroline an hour as well as a hefty bribe to convince him to move the children into the other half of the building which, of course, meant that now they were living in even more cramped conditions.
The poor darlings!
Caroline sighed, dimly becoming aware that her cousin was watching her through narrowed eyes. Blast it! Her thoughts had pulled her out of the here and now again. Who knew what Rebecca was currently thinking! For her cousin had a quite shrewd way of seeing those around her, her intuition often guiding her to the very secret people fought to hide.
Quick, Caroline, she thought to herself. Think of something to distract her!
In that moment, her gaze fell on a gentleman with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, who stood across the room and was currently very busy staring at Rebecca. Perfect!
Sighing, Caroline tried to appear calm and not near bouncing with jittery nerves. “That gentleman over there keeps looking at you,” she remarked as though she didn’t have a care in the world.
“What?” Fortunately, Rebecca’s attention immediately shifted to the gentleman across the room, who was most definitely not Lord Coleridge. Instantly, her cousin’s face lit up, and Caroline thought she saw Rebecca’s pulse quicken. Interesting!
“Is he not the man who spilled his drink on Lord Coleridge a little while back?”
“He is, indeed,” Rebecca replied, her voice almost breathless. “He’s that American heir people keep whispering about.”
“Lord Pembroke?” Indeed, Caroline had heard about him. She’d heard men whisper of his simple upbringing, that his father had made his fortune in America. Of course, these whispers were always accompanied by a hint of distaste. After all, an honorable man in his right mind would never dare stoop so low as to…work! Truly distasteful!
At the same time, Caroline knew that the matrons had begun to take notice of the fine, young gentleman thrust so unexpectedly into their midst. After all, he was still a peer, in possession of one of the noblest titles in England. His fortune he had used to restore Pembroke Hall to its former glory after the late earl—his uncle—had squandered away the family’s wealth. And on top of that, the man was exceedingly good-looking!
A fact that—as it seemed—had not escaped Rebecca’s attention, either.
Caroline grinned at her cousin. “Before long, all the matrons will be pushing their daughters into his path, fighting for his attention.”
Rebecca chuckled, though it did sound a bit strained. “Perhaps he ought to consider returning to America. He might be safer there.”
Caroline noted the way her cousin’s gaze darkened at the thought. “Perhaps he has a reason for staying.”
Rebecca sighed as she continued to look at the man across the room. “Perhaps.” A deep longing rested in that one word, and Caroline could not help but wonder what it would feel like to be enamored with a gentleman. After all, from her perspective, a severe case had all the markings of a dreadful sickness!
Loss of cognitive abilities.
Stuttering and unintelligible speech.
Sweaty palms and flushed cheeks.
Looking across the crowded ballroom, Caroline tried to glance over the rim of her spectacles in order to see better. Indeed, Lord Pembroke was still staring at Rebecca—at least their sickness seemed to be mutual!—while the dark-haired man beside him wore a smug smile on his face, uttering the occasional remark that never failed to earn him an annoyed look from Lord Pembroke.
“Ah, Miss Hawkins, there you are.”
Caroline blinked, noting the way her cousin all but flinched when Lord Coleridge suddenly came upon them. It would seem neither one of them had noticed Rebecca’s boring suitor sneak up on them.
“Will you grant me the pleasure of the next dance?”
The look on Rebecca’s face spoke not of pleasure but, instead, of pure torture as she agreed and took his proffered arm, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.
Caroline sighed, wishing there was something she could do. However, her father was adamant in his desire to see her wed to the dull viscount, threatening to disown Rebecca should she not do as he demanded. Still, Caroline could not shake the feeling that her cousin was merely playing along while following a plan of her own.
A plan that perhaps involved Lord Pembroke!
Curiously, Caroline peeked over the rim of her spectac
les, satisfied to see the young American’s face darken almost thunderously as he stared at Rebecca walking onto the dance floor on Lord Coleridge’s arm. Perhaps there was hope yet!
And then Caroline’s gaze caught on another’s.
It happened quite by accident.
She couldn’t even say how.
However, one moment she’d been observing Lord Pembroke’s fascinating reaction and in the next, Caroline found herself looking into a pair of decidedly amused brown eyes—as far as she could tell from this distance away!
Blinking, Caroline straightened and her gaze cleared, noting the rather smug smile that claimed the dark-haired gentleman’s face as he looked at her with rather daring perusal. There was something knowing in his gaze, as though he’d just discovered something utterly fascinating and now prided himself on said discovery.
Annoyed, Caroline lifted her chin and shifted on her feet, turning more directly toward the dancers in the process. Still, out of the corners of her eyes, she noted that his smile deepened, amusement coming to his face as though her reaction pleased him.
How annoying!
Indeed, men were nothing but a nuisance and not worth her time. Once more feeling vindicated to have made the right choice, Caroline wondered what to do next. How to procure the necessary funds to restore the building housing the children’s home. The allowance she possessed would not be enough. It had barely been enough to bribe Mr. Wolsey. Should she approach another lady in her needlepoint circle so soon? Or perhaps fabricate a little white lie and obtain the money from her father?
Sighing, Caroline tugged on her tight collar. If only she knew what to do!
Chapter Four
A Curious Observation
“Stop huffing and puffing like a dragon,” Pierce chided his new friend. “You should not have addressed Cavendish directly, and you know it.” The two men had known each other barely a few weeks and, yet, Pierce could not deny that Pembroke had proven to be a decent man throughout that time, enough to warrant Pierce’s trust and goodwill.
