by Wolf, Bree
And now, here she was, in a darkened alley with a stranger. A masked stranger no less. A man whose face she’d never seen and whose name she did not know, and she felt…something she’d never thought possible. Why here and now? Why with him? “I need to go home,” Caroline told him, her hands once more settling on his chest, urging him back. “I need to go home.”
Although disappointment clung to his gaze, he nodded. “I’ll take you,” he assured her, promising the safety of his presence. Oddly enough, Caroline felt herself calm at the thought of not having to brave the darkened streets of London alone.
Lifting his head, the masked man whistled and, a moment later, the same black beast Caroline had seen on the night of their first encounter trotted toward him. A soft nicker drifted to her ears, like the one she’d heard before, the one that had urged her back into reality and away from the man who’d claimed the compensation he thought he deserved.
Her hand reached out and gently brushed over the horse’s nose. “He’s beautiful,” she whispered as he mounted with ease, then held out his hand to help her up.
Pulling her cloak tighter around her, Caroline slid her hand into his and then lifted her left foot to the stirrup. With one swift tug, he pulled her up, settling her in front of him. One hand held the reins while the other pulled her back against his chest, holding her securely as he urged his trusted steed down the alley.
Caroline tried to maintain a certain distance, unable not to picture the shocked expressions of her parents if they were to see her like this. However, with nothing to hold on to, nothing to keep her upright and balanced, Caroline soon found it hard not to make use of the broad chest in her back.
“I’ll not bite you,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled her deeper into his embrace yet again. “I promise.” His warm breath ticked her skin, and Caroline closed her eyes as a shudder gripped her. Of all the things that had gone wrong tonight, her reaction to this man was probably the worst!
With any luck, she would never see him again. Unfortunately, that thought did not fill her with relief though.
As his black beast carried them through the silent streets toward her home, Caroline began to relax as fatigue stole over her. Her body was no longer able to uphold the tension she’d forced on it all night, and she sank deeper into his arms, resting her head upon his shoulder. His arm held her securely, his hand settled on the folds of her cloak where they closed over her belly. As they rode, the horse’s movements jostled them in such a way that she soon found his hand slipping inside her cloak, nestling on her own.
Caroline had not thought to don gloves when she’d all but rushed from her home hours earlier. Her companion had deemed them unnecessary as well for she felt his bare skin brush against her own, warm and comforting, and yet, utterly unnerving.
“Shall I drop you off here?” he whispered in her ear after pulling his mount to a stop a few houses down from her home. “I assume you wish not to be seen.” He chuckled softly, and when she turned her head to glare at him, their eyes locked, all mockery vanishing into thin air.
Caroline swallowed when his gaze darted to her lips. “I-I need to go,” she rushed to remind them both, then all but pushed his arm away and slid off the horse, landing with a dull thud on the pavement. Not daring to look back at him, she hastened toward her father’s house, urging herself to be watchful. It would not serve her to lose her head now and be discovered.
Fortunately, for once that night, Fate was on her side for she made it into the house and up into her chamber without encountering a soul. With a deep sigh, she closed the door behind her, then sank down onto the floor, her knees no longer able to support her.
“Where have you been?”
At the sound of Sarah’s voice, Caroline flinched, her heart all but jumping out of her chest. “I beg you not to frighten the living daylights out of me,” she gasped, a hand over her thundering heart as she fought to catch her breath.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah relented, coming to sit beside her, her gaze sweeping over Caroline. “Are you all right? You’ve been gone for a long time.” She swallowed, and Caroline could see the strain that lingered on her friend’s face. “I was so, so worried. What’s happened?”
Closing her eyes, Caroline leaned her head back against the door, unable to suppress the smile that stole onto her face. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
In fact, Caroline was not quite certain she believed it herself.
But, blast it, it’d felt wonderful!
Chapter Thirteen
Out of Sight, but Not Out of Mind
Pierce spent Christmastide at Markham Hall with Daphne, enjoying the girl’s glowing eyes and the small “O” her lips formed as she gazed at all the beautiful decorations his staff had retrieved from the attic.
Together, they’d trudged out into the snow to cut evergreen branches to be hung in doorways and over windows. Donahue, Markham Hall’s butler, a man with a long red beard and a missing arm, had insisted on accompanying them, his cheerful chuckle never far behind Daphne’s squeals of delight as they chased each other through the snow. Miss Glass, Daphne’s governess, as well as her own four-year-old daughter, Susan, had joined them as well, their cheeks aglow from the cold.
“She looks utterly happy,” Miss Glass remarked as they walked side by side, her pale blond hair tugged back, oddly reminding him of his little, grey mouse. “She hasn’t had a nightmare in a few weeks.”
Pierce sighed, wishing they would never return. “I’m grateful for your diligent care,” he told her, casting her a thankful smile. “You make her feel safe.”
The young woman dropped her gaze, a deep smile coming to her gentle features. “It is I who should be thank—”
“No!” Pierce interrupted her in a harsh tone, his gaze focused on the two girls throwing snowballs at each other, laughing and giggling when they lost their footing and fell head-first into the snow. Donahue’s booming laughter echoed across the clearing as if he were a giant.
Then Pierce sighed and met her gaze. “I apologize for the outburst.”
Miss Glass shook her head. “There’s no need, my lord. I only meant to say that—”
“I know,” he interrupted yet again. “But I am equally grateful that you are here, you and Susan. You’ve brought laughter and joy to this house, and that was exactly what Daphne needed.”
Not long after Pierce had taken Daphne into his home, he’d stumbled upon young Miss Glass upon returning from one of his nightly excursions. Then, it had been the depth of winter as well, and she’d stood shivering in the cold, her little girl wrapped in her arms, with nowhere to turn.
Susan was an illegitimate child, and Miss Glass had been turned out onto the street when her former employer had discovered she was to have her. With odd jobs, the young woman had fought to provide for herself and her daughter. However, unwed mothers rarely appealed to the generous, giving side in people. Most had done nothing but judge and scorn her, not willing to lift a finger.
Like Albert and Miss Glass, Donahue had suffered a similar fate. He’d lost his arm in a fire, trying to save his employer’s little son. Although the boy had survived, Donahue had been dismissed after he could no longer perform the tasks expected of him.
Few people of the upper class ever looked past their own lives and, over the past few years, Pierce had developed a deep disdain for his peers with only a handful exceptions.
“I shall gobble you up, my little rabbits!” Donahue boomed as he chased after the two girls, who shrieked with delight. “Run, run before it’s too late!”
“Mother!” Susan screamed, her brown eyes wide as she ran as fast as her little legs would allow her. Utter excitement rested on her features as she threw herself into her mother’s arms, hiding her face in her skirts.
Daphne, too, shrieked as though the hordes of hell were behind her. “Father! He’s trying to get me! Help!”
For a split second, Pierce tensed, concerned that the game had brought back painful memo
ries. However, the glow in Daphne’s eyes had not dimmed and in-between shrieks, he saw her lips curl up into heartfelt smiles.
Soon, they were all laughing, including Donahue, who soon found himself toppling over into the snow with two little rabbits clinging to him, pulling on his red beard and begging him to chase them again.
Pierce smiled as he looked at the odd constellation of people who’d become—for all intents and purposes—a family here at Markham Hall. They’d all needed each other at one point or another, and they’d all offered help in return. It had been need that had brought them together, but it was affection that kept them here.
Of course, Pierce was aware of the many rumors circulating about his country estate. He had seen expressions of shock on many faces when Donahue received the few guests ever invited at the door, his red beard and missing limb odd attributes in a butler these days. He’d heard vicious rumors about the women he employed, suggesting that their children were his when, in truth, he had simply not seen a reason not to employ a woman merely because she was a mother. In his experience, those treated with respect and kindness—no matter their circumstances—were the most loyal of people.
And in his opinion, everyone deserved a chance to prove themselves.
When the cold finally settled in everyone’s bones, they returned to the house, their arms laden with freshly-cut branches. A cup of hot tea and a biscuit or two from Mrs. Colden, the cook, warmed them thoroughly and put eagerness back onto the girls’ faces. They spent the rest of the afternoon decorating not only the drawing room, but also the entrance hall, the salon and the nursery.
Later that night, Pierce even found a small branch decorated with a red ribbon set upon the desk in his study. Dear Daphne, she was always looking out for him in her own sweet, little way!
As the snow continued to fall outside his window, Pierce’s thoughts were drawn back to London, for this year, for the first time, he’d quit the city with regret in his heart. After all, his little mouse had remained, and he could not help but worry about what she would feel compelled to do next should an emergency arise. When it came to the children of the orphanage, it seemed her dedication knew no bounds.
By now, and with the help of his young footman, Jacob, Pierce had put most of the puzzle pieces together, finally able to understand why the woman sneaked around town in the middle of the night. To be on the safe side, he’d left Jacob behind, instructing the young man to look after her and interfere should the need arise.
Just in case.
After all, with Caroline Hawkins, one never knew what to expect.
The only thing that still did not make any sense was her odd sense of dress. Clearly, it was a disguise, a mask. She had no need for those spectacles and, yet, she wore them. Why? Whenever he’d observed her at a societal event, she’d kept to the corners, conversing animatedly with the harpies of the ton, all but shying away from the men. Did she not seek a husband as so many young women did, matrimony their only purpose in life?
The thought of suitors following her about, asking for a dance, trying to steal a kiss had him clench his teeth as a deep sense of apprehension settled in his bones.
Inhaling a deep breath, Pierce leaned back in his chair, his right hand running over his face to chase away the gloom that lingered at the thought of his little mouse pawed at by other men.
Sorry, fellas. The lady is mine.
His own words kept echoing in his head, and Pierce wondered what that meant. He clearly liked her, enjoyed her company. He’d also developed a certain amount of concern for her. However, did that mean he cared for her? Or was it simply the chase? The challenge she presented? Would she hold no more allure once he’d figured out the last piece of the puzzle that was Miss Caroline Hawkins?
All Pierce was certain off was that, for the first time since he could remember, he longed for the Season to begin. He longed to return to London. To see her again. To see those sharp blue eyes shoot daggers at him. To tease her mercilessly. To taste her lips again.
Pierce chuckled. She still did not know who he was, and he would seek to keep it that way for as long as possible. Still, he knew he would not be able to deny himself the joy of seeking her out at the next opportunity. Perhaps he could coax her out of her self-appointed shell. After all, the first time he’d addressed her at the Cavendish ball out on the terrace, she’d met his challenge with an unwavering gaze. She’d tried to evade him, but when he’d cornered her, she’d accepted his challenge and issued one of her own.
Don’t cross me, my lord. Believe me, you wouldn’t win.
Pierce smiled, the need to be off pulsing in his veins.
Soon, he told himself. Soon, he would see her again.
Chapter Fourteen
An Undeterrable Man
The moment Caroline looked up to find her cousin descending the stairs to the entrance hall of her father’s townhouse, her jaw dropped.
Dressed in a stunning emerald gown, her fiery hair arranged in gentle waves on top of her head, Rebecca glistened like a star in the night sky. Her cheeks shone rosy with excitement, the same that lingered in her dark gaze, a delicate contrast to her pale skin. Still, it was the unusually low neckline of Rebecca’s gown that made Caroline think that tonight’s ball held a deeper meaning for her adventurous cousin.
For days now, Caroline had suspected that Rebecca was up to something.
Oddly enough, her beloved cousin had sought out a jeweler to have a ring fashioned, a delicate golden band holding a good-sized emerald flanked by a slightly smaller diamond on each side. To Caroline’s surprise, her cousin had provided the jeweler with a hand-drawn sketch of the ring she wanted.
Now, that very ring dangled on a delicate gold chain around her neck. One couldn’t help but wonder why!
Caroline frowned, noting the way her mother’s gaze widened at the sight. However, she refrained from commenting on Rebecca’s unusual attire. In all likelihood, she thought it would serve to secure Lord Coleridge’s interest.
That, however, was not Rebecca’s intention.
Caroline was certain of it.
“What are you up to?” she whispered in her cousin’s ear as their carriage rumbled down the darkened streets toward Lord Cowell’s townhouse.
Touching a slender finger to the ring sitting atop her chest, Rebecca smiled, her brows rising ever so slightly as she glanced at Caroline. “I do not have the faintest idea what you speak of, dear cousin.”
Caroline sighed, then dropped the subject. After all, who was she to complain about the secrets Rebecca insisted to keep?
As expected, once they stepped into the large hall, all eyes were drawn to Rebecca—more specifically the low neckline of her gown! Still, Caroline suspected that there was one set of eyes in particular her cousin sought to draw that night.
Ever since she’d returned from visiting her old friend at Ravengrove, Rebecca had seemed strangely driven to seek out Lord Pembroke. No doubt, something had happened that had encouraged her to believe that the young American earl still cared for her. However, Caroline could not fathom what it could have been, and her cousin was ever tight-lipped.
Retreating into the background, Caroline kept glancing at Rebecca as Lord Coleridge led her onto the dance floor. The look on her cousin’s face held a mix of disappointment and annoyance that the dull lord had once more swooped in and snatched her away. She cast him a polite smile, but then allowed her gaze to sweep the room, no doubt looking for a very specific set of blue eyes.
Caroline found the man in possession of those eyes soon enough as he all but stalked the edges of the dance floor, his gaze fixed on Rebecca. His jaw seemed tense, and whenever his gaze moved to Lord Coleridge, Caroline thought she saw a rather murderous gleam there.
A soft smile tugged on the corners of her lips. Perhaps Rebecca had been right to go to such lengths to draw him out for he was clearly bothered by the way Lord Coleridge stared at her. Perhaps bothered enough to interfere?
As though on cue, Lord Pembr
oke strode across the dance floor the moment the dance came to an end and claimed Rebecca’s hand for the next—much to Lord Coleridge’s displeasure!
Rebecca, however, glowed as though he’d just offered her the stars.
Sighing, Caroline procured herself a glass of lemonade and then strolled around the room before retreating to a quieter corner as she found herself quite unoccupied at present.
Rather unexpectedly, Mr. Wolsey seemed to have turned over a new leaf after the night he’d spent locked in his office. He mostly appeared sober, his gaze holding a hint of mortification whenever it met hers. Caroline doubted that whatever had spooked him would be of a permanent nature. But for now, she was grateful.
On top of that, Mr. Carpenter had done a marvelous job with the roof, and they had moved the children back into their former rooms, giving them more space. If they stuck to the tight budget Caroline had set forth, the children’s home’s funds would last them until summer.
So far, so good.
Now that her needlepoint circle would resume its meetings, Caroline could set her sights on a new lady, slowly encouraging her to make a donation that would secure the children’s well-being for many more years to come.
“You seem distracted.”
Caroline flinched at the sound of Lord Markham’s voice, and her lemonade splashed precariously up the sides of her glass. What on earth was that man doing here?
Still, anger would not serve her.
Nor would indignation.
Instead, Caroline slid back into her role as the demure wallflower and slowly turned to face him, her chin not quite level with the ground, her eyes downcast. The last time, he’d caught her off guard, and she had to admit her reaction to his teasing had been quite unwise. No doubt, it had all but encouraged him to seek her out again!
