How to Turn a Frog into a Prince (Happy Ever Regency Book 5)

by Bree Wolf

  Albert nodded solemnly. “Of course, my lord.”

  Pushing away the dark thoughts, Pierce turned to her and placed a gentle peck on her forehead. It reminded her of Peter. “Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Smiling at him, Charlaine nodded. “You as well.” Without delay, her thoughts moved to the possibilities this night presented, and she could barely wait for Pierce to leave so she could decide how to proceed.

  Unfortunately, her eagerness had to have sparked in her eyes for Pierce turned back to look at her, a frown drawing down his brows in something resembling suspicion. He had come to know her well. “Is something wrong?”

  Charlaine shrugged with as little expression upon her face as she could. “Not that I know of.”

  Pierce sighed. “Very well.” He clearly didn’t believe her. But he didn’t have the time to interrogate her further. Thank heavens for small mercies! “Have a good night.” Then he turned and headed down the steps to the carriage waiting by the curb.

  As Albert closed the door, Charlaine turned to him. “Albert, we need to talk.”

  There was no time to waste!

  Chapter Nine

  A Night of Freedom

  Nathanial was aware that he had barely spoken a word ever since he had entered the carriage and sat down opposite Lord Markham. He kept wondering how the other man and his brother had come to know each other so well. Although Zach had told him how they had first met at a ball, how Markham had offered his help in locating their father’s ring, Nathanial could not shake the feeling that there was more to the story. Something his brother refused to share with him.

  Could it be because of a lack of trust?

  You’re being unfair, Nathanial chided himself silently. Still, the bitterness he had first noticed after Abigail’s betrayal was slowly leaking into every part of his life. If only Nathanial knew how to contain it.

  Shifting in his seat, Lord Markham turned to look at him. Then his right hand moved and he held out a small, black object to Nathanial.

  Frowning, Nathanial took it, feeling its soft, velvet surface. “What is this?” he asked as he turned the item in his hands. His eyes narrowed as he realized he was holding a mask. Frowning, he turned to look out the window. “Where are you going?” A dark sense of foreboding snaked down his back.

  Lord Markham chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m taking you to a masquerade.”

  Nathanial’s head whipped around. Never had he liked the loose morals that often went hand in hand with hidden identities. He’d had enough of lies and deceit to last him a lifetime.

  “On your brother’s orders, I swear,” Lord Markham rushed to add, holding up his hands in appeasement.

  Nathanial gritted his teeth. “I appreciate your efforts. However—”

  “Why?” Lord Markham interrupted him, his dark eyes watchful.

  Nathanial frowned. “Why what?”

  “Why did you come to England?”

  The pressure on his teeth increased, and Nathanial leaned back in his seat, trying his best to relax as Lord Markham’s question forced him to dredge up the past yet again. “I came to see my brother, to meet his wife, to wish them well.” With each word to pass his lips, Nathanial felt his jaw begin to ache a little more.

  Lord Markham sighed. “Pembroke told me what happened.”

  The words felt like a slap in the face. “He shouldn’t have,” Nathanial forced out through gritted teeth. Then he held out the mask to Lord Markham, who shook his head, refusing to take it.

  “He’s a good friend, and he worries about you.”

  “I know.”

  “He asked me to help,” Lord Markham continued, “because he feared seeing him with his wife would only cause you distress.” Empathy rested in the man’s eyes as he spoke.

  Unfortunately, his words brought forth an image of Zach and Becca, deliriously happy. Instantly, that ball of frustration and bitterness ignited in Nathanial’s stomach. “He’s right,” he muttered then, brushing a hand over his face as though hoping to wipe away the memory that kept taunting him. “I should return home,” he mumbled, then met Lord Markham’s gaze. “I apologize for—”

  “There is no need. I understand the pain you must be going through and—”

  “Do you?” Nathanial snapped the same way he had snapped at Miss Palmer a week ago. It seemed whenever he was lost in that abyss of bitterness and self-pity, he was not fit to be around people.

  Like Miss Palmer, Lord Markham took no offense. “Perhaps I do not,” he admitted. “However, I do understand the fear of rejection.”

  Looking at the man, Nathanial remembered the way he had watched Miss Hawkins at the wedding celebration. “I do hope she accepts you,” he told him then, and before he could stop himself, added, “and that she means it when she does.”

  Lord Markham paused, no doubt having taken note of the bitterness in Nathanial’s voice. “How long has it been?”

  “Almost two years.” It seemed longer. Infinitely longer.

  “Has she married another?”

  “No.” In an odd way, her not marrying that Lord Mortimer made things even worse for it seemed that all the pain he had endured had been for nothing. Not even Abigail had found happiness. She had betrayed him for nothing, and now they were both miserable.

  “Do you want her back?” Lord Markham then asked into the stillness.

  Nathanial flinched; he could not prevent it. The thought shook his body as it shook his soul. To his great shame, he could not deny that a part of him still longed for Abigail, for the life they had together, for the life they were to have together. He had always wanted a loving wife, children to dote upon, a home, a family of his own.

  Now, all that was gone. And now, Nathanial doubted that he would ever receive a second chance.

  “Then you need to let her go,” Lord Markham said gently.

  Nathanial closed his eyes. “How?” He had been trying to rid himself of these emotions, of his longing for her, of this bitterness she had forced upon him.

  But to no avail.

  Perhaps he was simply not strong enough to fight his way out of this. Not alone. Quite frankly, you look in desperate need of a friend. Nathanial wondered why his mind conjured Miss Palmer’s voice in that moment for he had not laid eyes on her since his brother’s wedding celebration. If she had truly meant to be his friend, would she not have…?

  No, the thought was ludicrous. Of course, she had not meant what she had said. Women said many things and then later barely remembered them.

  “One step at a time,” Lord Markham counseled as he settled his own mask onto his face. “One step at a time.”

  Nathanial inhaled a slow breath as his gaze dropped to the mask in his hands. Would it be so bad to leave behind his life for a single night? To forget the past and simply live in the moment? To free himself of this constant gloom? Was it cowardly? Or was it simply human?

  Pushing all these questions aside, Nathanial fastened the mask to his face, knowing that if he overthought this as he often did, he would never do it. Perhaps it was time to plunge ahead without thought. Perhaps he simply ought to take a leap of faith.

  Only for tonight.

  “Tonight, you’re not you,” Lord Markham said as though he had read Nathanial’s thoughts. “Tonight, you’re not Nathanial Caswell.” As though Fate had meant for this to happen, the carriage drew to a stop in front of an imposing townhouse and the two men disembarked. Nathanial forced all doubts from his mind as they proceeded upward the few steps to the large entrance. “There are no expectations here tonight,” Lord Markham continued in a hushed, but insistent voice, “no identities, either. Tonight, you can be whoever you choose to be. Say what you wish, do as you please, and forget about tomorrow. Perhaps in doing so, you will remember the man you once were.”

  Squaring his shoulders, Nathanial drew in a deep breath and then stepped across the threshold, wondering if this was the worst sort of plan anyone had ever thought up.

  Only h
ere and now, he did not care.

  Tonight was tonight.

  To hell with tomorrow.

  Chapter Ten

  Two Women

  Charlaine stood by the fireplace in the drawing room as she heard the dim sounds of someone sneaking across the foyer. A slow smile danced across her face as she turned to watch the door handle slowly being pushed down from the other side. Then the door slid open, revealing Miss Caroline Hawkins in its frame.

  The young woman’s eyes were wide as she moved cautiously into the dimly lit room as of yet unaware of Charlaine’s presence. To Charlaine’s great surprise, the woman’s eyes were not hidden behind those thick spectacles she usually wore. Indeed, there seemed to be a lot more to Miss Caroline Hawkins than met the eye.

  The young woman’s jaw dropped in shock the moment she beheld Charlaine, her eyes widening as though looking for a way out of a trap.

  “I’m so glad you’ve received my message,” Charlaine exclaimed, smiling at Miss Hawkins reassuringly. “Please, do come in.” All would be lost if the woman were to bolt.

  “Your message?” Miss Hawkins croaked as her face paled.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” Charlaine admitted, then quickly crossed the small distance to Miss Hawkins’ side, took hold of her hand and pulled her into the room, swiftly closing the door. “I need to speak with you.”

  Miss Hawkins’ eyes remained wide as she allowed Charlaine to urge her to the settee. She shrugged out of her cloak and then reluctantly took a seat, all the while watching Charlaine like a hawk, concern lingering in her pale eyes. Of course, if she were discovered here on her own in the middle of the night, she would most likely be ruined!

  And yet, she had come.

  “You need not be afraid,” Charlaine assured her as she sat down on the other end of the settee. “I swear I have no intention of harming you in any way.”

  “Then why did you send a note in Pierce’s name?” she asked, suspicion still clinging to her words.

  Charlaine’s heart rejoiced. “You call him Pierce? That sounds most promising.”

  Miss Hawkins flinched, and more color drained from her face.

  “I had hoped that there was a deep affection between the two of you. Pierce is utterly smitten with you, and I feared you might not reciprocate his feelings.”

  At Charlaine’s confession, Miss Hawkins’ face finally regained some color, darkening her cheeks as she briefly dropped her gaze. “He is?” she asked almost breathlessly, telling Charlaine all she needed to know. Still, if they loved each other, what on earth was standing between them? It was about time someone helped them along. “Do you love him?”

  Miss Hawkins flinched yet again.

  Charlaine chuckled. “Do not worry. I asked him the very same thing, and the way he refused to answer was very telling.” She smiled at the young woman. “As is yours.”

  Since Miss Hawkins continued to stare at her in utter shock, Charlaine went head. “Well, to answer your question: I sent the note in his name because I feared that otherwise you might not come, and I do need your help.”

  “My help?” The trance seemed to fall from her limbs as her eyes began to move over Charlaine in a more lively manner.

  Charlaine grinned at her guest. “To tell you the truth, I intend to sneak out of the house tonight and I want you to come with me.” After all, Miss Hawkins seemed to have ample practice when it came to sneaking out of the house…as was evidenced by her presence here tonight.

  “Sneak out of the house?” Miss Hawkins gasped as though she would never in a thousand years contemplate the idea. “To go where?”

  “A masquerade,” Charlaine exclaimed, unable to keep her eagerness at bay. Her hands clapped together in delight and her feet all but danced on the floor. Still, a part of her felt annoyed by how much a silly masquerade meant to her. If only she could enjoy London’s balls like other women. “I’m well aware that London society is not all that fond of me—apparently, I’m not the kind of woman they would welcome into their midst—and I must admit I’m growing tired of their pointed stares and hushed whispers.” There! She’d said it! “But I refuse to let their animosity dull my spirits.” Squaring her shoulders, she looked Miss Hawkins in the eyes. “Tonight, I want to enjoy myself. I want to dance and laugh and be looked at without judgment, and I think a masquerade is the perfect place to do so.” Smiling, she leaned forward, praying that Miss Hawkins’ spirit possessed an adventurous streak not unlike her own. “I thought you might feel the same.”

  A thousand thoughts flitted across Miss Hawkins’ face, and yet, Charlaine thought she saw temptation spark in her wide blue eyes. “What if we’re discovered?”

  Charlaine shrugged. “What if we’re not?”

  A slow smile stole onto Miss Hawkins’ face despite her obvious effort to contain it.

  “I can see that you want to come,” Charlaine remarked before grasping the other woman’s hands. “Please, do.”

  “What about Pierce?” Miss Hawkins asked, still undecided. “Will he not realize that you’ve left?”

  “Oh, he’s already at the masquerade.”

  Miss Hawkins stilled. “But…but then we’ll surely be discovered.”

  Charlaine could not help but grin. “Well, it is a masquerade.” She squeezed the other woman’s hands. “Still, are you not curious to see if he will recognize you?” A wide mix of emotions danced across Miss Hawkins’ face. “I think it’s about time the two of you spoke to each other,” Charlaine urged before her smile deepened. “I have the perfect gown for you. I swear it will not fail to catch his attention.”

  That, in turn, captured Miss Hawkins’ attention for her hand moved upward and tugged on the high collar of her mouse-gray dress. Her eyes became distant as she lost herself in a memory. A pleasant one to be certain for the smile that tugged on her lips whispered of utter bliss.

  “Will you come then?” Charlaine asked hopefully.

  Miss Hawkins nodded. “I cannot believe I will, but, yes. I’ll come with you.”

  Charlaine’s heart thudded wildly in her chest, and she could no longer stay seated. Her hands clapped together in joy at the thought of another adventure on the horizon. “Oh, this is wonderful! And if we’re to be the best of friends, you must call me Charlaine.” After what she had observed tonight, Charlaine no longer harbored the slightest doubt that Pierce and Caroline would be married in no time at all. If only those two would finally realize that as well!

  Pulling Caroline off the settee, Charlaine looped her arm through hers and drew her toward the door. “Everything is prepared. We’ll change and then we’ll be off.”

  “How did you know where to find me?” Caroline asked, her demeanor growing more confident as they crossed the foyer.

  “I enlisted Albert’s help,” Charlaine confessed, glancing around to ensure the dear man was not lurking nearby. He did have a slightly upsetting tendency of appearing and disappearing without warning. “He, too, wishes to see Pierce happy, and he is very fond of you as well, dear Caroline.”

  An adorable smile lit up Caroline’s face.

  After changing with all haste, Charlaine found her new friend standing in front of the tall mirror in her chamber, her spectacle-free gaze sweeping over the ruby red gown Charlaine had chosen for her. It made her look radiant and would certainly succeed in drawing Pierce’s attention.

  “You look different without your spectacles,” Charlaine observed as she smoothed her hands down her own golden gown. It shimmered like the sun, and she felt utterly glamorous in it. “You don’t need them, do you?”

  “No, I don’t,” Caroline admitted, her blue eyes sparkling with her daring spirit.

  Charlaine could not help but wonder why Caroline had ever decided to wear spectacles that served no purpose. However, time was running short and so they hurried downstairs and then rushed to seat themselves in the carriage Albert had reluctantly ordered for them.

  “I have a confession to make,” Charlaine admitted as the carriage rum
bled down the street toward the Witherton’s townhouse. “There is someone I wish to see tonight.” Perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone, bring Pierce and Caroline together—finally!—and cheer up poor Nathanial. In all honesty, Charlaine doubted the man would find much amusement without a little bit of coaxing, and Pierce was definitely not the right person for the job.

  Surprise shone on Caroline’s face. “Who is he?”

  Charlaine chuckled at the memory of Nathanial’s tense face. “Oh, he’s a kind, young man who believes the world has nothing left to offer him.” She wiggled her brows devilishly, enjoying the way Caroline’s jaw dropped slightly. “I intend to disabuse him of that misconception.”

  That was a promise.

  After all, she had promised him to be his friend, and friends looked out for one another, did they not?

  And she would, whether he wanted her to or not.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dancing Under the Stars

  This had been a bad idea!

  No, correction, this had been the worst idea of all time!

  Not knowing where to look, Nathanial followed Lord Markham across the large, vaulted room, his gaze sweeping over sparsely-clad women wearing a variety of colorful masks to men dressed in black—not unlike his companion—giving them a forbidden air. Yet, the dance floor all but vibrated with cheerful voices as lords and ladies moved together, turning familiar dances into something utterly foreign.

  Lights sparkled everywhere. Yet, the room seemed dim by normal standards, shrouding the masquerade’s guests in anonymity.

  “Here, have a drink.” Lord Markham all but shoved a glass into Nathanial’s hand as they stopped by a heavily-laden refreshment table. “You look like you could use it.”