by Wolf, Bree
The ring itself had always represented their father’s old home, his roots, and yet, it had also stood for his daring courage to forge his own path and to be rewarded for it with the one who held his heart. It had been a symbol of love and family, of unity and loyalty, and their father had given it to them after his beloved wife’s passing so it would be carried into the next generation, its message never forgotten, but upheld forevermore.
“My lord?”
Gusford’s tentative prompt drew Zach from his thoughts. He blinked to clear his mind, then drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to London. I have…business to attend to.”
“Certainly, my lord.” After a quick nod, Gusford made to march off to see his master’s bags packed as instructed.
Zach could not help but wonder if the old man was relieved to be rid of him. “Gusford!”
“Yes, my lord.” A hint of concern rested in the man’s eyes as he turned back to look at Zach.
“Pack your own bags as well,” Zach instructed, feeling a slight stab of guilt at the humor that eased the ache in his heart when his brother was not afforded such luxury. “You’ll be accompanying me. I might have need of your assistance.”
Gusford’s brows drew down and his lips thinned dangerously. “The townhouse has its own butler, my lord. He’ll be more than—”
“I need someone I can trust,” Zach interrupted, equally surprised to hear himself speak the words as Gusford was to hear them. Although they’d known each other for about a year, ever since Zach had come over from America, never had a meaningful conversation passed between them. Still, Zach did not doubt that he was right to place his trust in this grumpy old man. “See that everything is settled. We leave for London tomorrow at first light.”
“Yes, my lord.”
As Gusford walked away, Zach marveled if he’d simply imagined that slightly less grumpy tone in the man’s voice. Had Zach’s words pleased him? Or had he been mistaken?
Smoothing the wrinkles his clutching hands had brought upon the parchment of his brother’s letter, Zach returned to his study, determined to see all matters taken care of before his departure the coming day. Indeed, he could only hope that all would go well, that he would arrive in London as soon as possible, inquire after Lord Mortimer, seek out the man, beat him senseless and retrieve the ring.
Then he would return home and never look back.
Perhaps the next generation would be willing to settle in England. Zach, however, had not discovered anything worth staying for.
Chapter One
A Lady’s List
London, Spring 1812
“You’ll act the proper lady, do you hear me?” Conrad Hawkins snapped, his bespectacled eyes sweeping the ballroom, ensuring that no one stood close enough to overhear him reprimand his unruly niece. “Or I swear I’ll lock you in your chamber for the rest of the Season!”
Glaring at her odious uncle, Rebecca Hawkins forced the reply already on the tip of her tongue back down. As much as her blood desired to retort with equal frankness, her sharp mind cautioned against it for it knew well that her uncle was not a man of empty threats.
Driven by the need to elevate his own position within society, Conrad Hawkins had learned early how to use all the means at his disposal.
As the third son of a wealthy merchant family, he’d been forced to rely on his own ingenuity and resourcefulness in order to gain acceptance into upper society. Marrying a baron’s daughter had been an important step. However, they’d not been blessed with a son, but a daughter instead, disappointing his father-in-law, the baron, even further after the choice his own daughter had made.
Still, Rebecca knew that despite his regret not to have been granted the privilege of a son, a boy he could shape into a man of his own choosing, her uncle had always been determined to use his only daughter to strengthen his connections. Unfortunately, Caroline had grown into a young woman completely worthless to her father’s schemes: a plain, unremarkable wallflower.
For a reason Rebecca could not understand, her dear cousin seemed to favor the color gray when it came to gowns, bonnets, shawls and other accessories. Yes, sometimes it was a bluish-gray or a slightly rose-colored gray, but gray nonetheless. In addition, her dresses more often than not featured a high neckline, preferably buttoned all the way to her chin. Her pale brown hair always sat atop her head in a tight bun, giving her otherwise soft features a stern expression. Ultimately, her appearance was complemented by a set of wide-rimmed glasses, which made her light blue eyes look faded as though the last bit of color had been washed away.
For all intents and purposes, Caroline Hawkins looked like a gray little mouse.
And so, when Rebecca’s parents had tragically died in a carriage accident six years ago, Conrad Hawkins had taken her in, setting his sights on not only finding his own daughter an advantageous match – which was proving to be an impossible feat – but also pushing Rebecca toward that same goal.
Gritting her teeth, Rebecca gave her uncle a short, acquiescing nod and then turned away lest she’d do something she’d later regret. Still, holding her tongue was not something Rebecca was accustomed to do as she did not care for the feeling of weakness it elicited.
“Stand up straight,” her aunt, Mildred, whispered in Rebecca’s ear as her dark blue eyes swept disapprovingly over her niece’s appearance, taking in the radiant emerald gown that matched her dark auburn curls perfectly. “If only you’d smile and stand up straight, you could be the beauty of the ball.” Shaking her head, her aunt glared at her. “No one likes a grouch, my dear. Do try and smile.”
Forcing the corners of her mouth up, Rebecca nodded to her aunt and then quickly took a few steps closer to her cousin, who stood not far off, a more or less indifferent expression on her rather expressionless face. “What a tedious evening,” Rebecca mumbled in Caroline’s ear. “I wonder if being locked up would truly be worse.”
The ghost of a smile flitted across Caroline’s face. “Judging from past experiences, it most certainly would be.”
Rebecca drew in a deep, long breath, knowing that her cousin was right. As much as she despised the company her uncle forced on her, she knew she would go mad if he truly were to lock her up with no one to talk to, no diversion to be had.
What a cruel, odious, little man!
“Rebecca, dear.”
At the sound of her uncle’s disgustingly sweet voice, Rebecca turned around. For a moment, she’d thought her hearing impaired. However, when her eyes moved from her uncle’s imploring gaze to the tall, rather striking young man by his side, all became abundantly clear.
Apparently, another matchmaking scheme was afoot!
“Lord Coleridge,” her uncle began, inclining his head to the man beside him before he turned to face her, “this is my niece, Miss Rebecca Hawkins. Rebecca, allow me to introduce you to Lord Coleridge.”
Meeting the young lord’s dark green eyes, Rebecca offered a proper greeting, knowing it would not do well for her to antagonize her uncle in these small matters. Judging from the way he looked at Lord Coleridge, it seemed the handsome, young man was the fulfillment of all his dreams.
When Lord Coleridge smiled at her, his kind features all but aglow with the pleasure of making her acquaintance, Rebecca frowned, wondering what on earth her uncle had told this poor man about her. Whatever it was, it had certainly sprung from a fairy tale!
After a few pleasantries, Lord Coleridge asked her to dance. And to Rebecca’s great shame, Aunt Mildred and Uncle Conrad all but pushed her to accept.
“Do you like to dance, Miss Hawkins?” Lord Coleridge asked as he led her onto the dance floor. “I must admit you seem a bit out of sorts. If you’d rather not, I would not object.”
Despite that sense of vexation that never seemed to be absent when she was in the presence of her uncle, Rebecca could not help but smile at the young lord. “That is kind of you. However, it is not the dance I object to.”
A slight frown came to his face. “Is it
me, then?” A teasing smile tugged on his lips.
Knowing her uncle would surely have had an apoplexy if he’d been aware of her – admittedly intentional – blunder, Rebecca laughed. “That is not what I intended to say.”
Leading her into the dance, Lord Coleridge smiled at her good-naturedly. “Then I’m relieved.” For a moment, they simply followed the dance as it led them around the room. Lord Coleridge appeared to be a kind man, and Rebecca had to admit that the fact that he’d noticed her displeasure and offered her a way out was something she had to list in his favor. But she was a good judge of character – always had been – and a single glance at the polite, young lord told her that they would not suit. “Your uncle speaks very highly of you.”
Rebecca could barely cut short the disbelieving snort that strove to free itself from her lips. Clamping them shut, she tried her best to ignore the need to rant and yell as Lord Coleridge looked at her with that look in his eyes that spoke of consideration. No doubt, he was trying to assess whether or not she would make him an agreeable wife. What a preposterous thought!
“Do you enjoy the outdoors?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I cannot say with certainty as my uncle prefers that I remain inside.” A certain bitterness clung to her words. Rebecca had never possessed the ability to hide her anger. Yes, she could be sweet and appealing if she wished. Still, in this very moment, Rebecca could not think of a single reason why she should. After all, she had no intention of marrying Lord Coleridge!
“What pastimes do you enjoy?”
Rebecca sighed. “This and that.” At present, her greatest efforts went into circumventing her uncle’s will. Indeed, it required considerable planning and diligent execution and left her very little time to worry about anything else. After all, she did not wish to marry any of the boring lords her uncle had his eyes on!
“Do you like dogs?”
“Not particularly,” Rebecca replied, noting the spark that suddenly showed in the man’s eyes. She almost groaned, knowing with perfect clarity what pastimes he enjoyed.
As expected, Lord Coleridge launched into a mind-numbingly detailed description of the foxhounds he kept for hunting as well as the Great Dane he called his own, a magnificent animal, which apparently required a very special diet and was constantly doted upon by three servants, who ensured that his every needs were met.
As the minutes ticked by, Rebecca was utterly tempted to step on Lord Tedious’ toes, to twist her own ankle or trip any of the couples dancing around them only to escape his company. Tedious! He was mind-numbingly tedious, and she could not bear it!
Not for another minute!
As soon as the last note drifted away, Rebecca took her leave. “Oh dear, my cousin looks utterly pale. I fear she may not be well. Please, excuse my hasty departure, but I need to see to her.”
All understanding, Lord Tedious courteously inclined his head to her and bid her call on him should she require his assistance in any way.
Hell would freeze over before Rebecca would even consider it!
With quick steps, she hastened toward her cousin, aware of her uncle’s and aunt’s disapproving expressions as they watched her with hawk eyes. “Can you do me a favor and sway on your feet?” Rebecca hissed in Caroline’s ear the second she reached her cousin’s side.
Caroline frowned before her pale blue eyes peeked over the rim of her glasses. “Do you think if I fainted, we could go home?”
Rebecca suppressed a snort, reminded of why she loved her cousin so dearly despite the differences that stood between them. For although Caroline was an odd, young woman, her only interest to be found in the fine arts of embroidery and stitching, Rebecca knew from experience that there lived a deep sense of loyalty and devotion in Caroline’s heart. More than once, her cousin had aided her in seeing her often impromptu plans through, distracting her mother and father or even whispering half-truths when needed!
Dear Caroline, as odd as she was, she nevertheless was the sister Rebecca had always hoped for!
“Perhaps,” Rebecca replied, then reached for Caroline’s fan and proceeded to wave it near her cousin’s face. Dutifully, her cousin closed her eyes and grasped Rebecca’s arm as though needing to steady herself. Indeed, Caroline’s portrayal was so convincing that Rebecca wondered if her demure cousin secretly practiced the art of deception.
“What was it this time?” Caroline inquired, slowly regaining her composure as though Rebecca’s diligent care had truly restored her strength. “Did he have an annoying habit? Or was it something else?” The right corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly. “Did he step on your toes?”
Rebecca huffed. “Unfortunately not as that would have been the perfect excuse to escape him.” She sighed rather theatrically. “No, he was perfectly kind and considerate and—”
“But oh-so tedious?”
Rebecca frowned. “Do I say this so often?”
“About at least half the gentlemen you meet,” Caroline confirmed with a delighted little smile. “It would seem there is no man out there who would find your approval, dear cousin.”
Rebecca heaved a deep sigh. “I simply have other requirements than that odious father of yours.” For a second, she paused, but found that Caroline did not seem to take offense. “I don’t care about title and reputation, wealth and standing. Those are things that matter to him, but not to me.” A grin came to her lips. “I have a list of my own.”
“A list?” Caroline’s gaze narrowed, and she leaned closer. “What kind of list?”
Rebecca sighed with utter longing. “Of the adventures I hope to find.”
“Do I dare ask?”
Rebecca wiggled her brows, delighting in the mild shock that widened her cousin’s eyes. Then she cast a cautious glance over her shoulder at her aunt and uncle. Fortunately, they had found another occupation and so Rebecca lifted her left hand and began to tick off the list she’d compiled over the past months. “First, I’d like to take an unchaperoned stroll under the moon.”
Caroline’s jaw dropped. “Under the m—! You’d be ruined!” she hissed under her breath. “Rebecca, you cannot be ser—”
“Two,” Rebecca continued undeterred, feeling the desperate need to state her desires, “I want to ride astride along Rotten Row.” Another finger came up. “Three, I want to swim in the sea.”
“Rebecca, be serious!” Caroline cautioned, her bespectacled eyes darting to her parents. “If Father heard you speak like this, he’d lock you up for good.”
Rebecca leaned closer. “Then don’t tell him.” She grinned at the mild shock on her cousin’s face. “Four, I want to kiss a stranger.”
“You can’t possibly—”
“Five,” Rebecca all but sighed, shocked how exciting even the mere thought of these adventures were…especially compared to the company of men like Lord Tedious. “I want to get married in Gretna Green.”
Shaking her head, Caroline stared at her, quite obviously lost for words.
Rebecca huffed out a deep breath. “Haven’t you ever wanted to do something…daring? Unexpected? Bold? Can you truly tell me that you’ve never been tempted to do something against your parents’ wishes? Never even contemplated the idea?”
To Rebecca’s surprise, Caroline dropped her gaze and her lips remained sealed, not a word of denial leaving her lips.
Interesting! Rebecca thought, watching her dear cousin with delight. Interesting, indeed!
Clearing her throat, Caroline swallowed, then raised her chin and met Rebecca’s gaze, her own once more steady as a rock. “You’ve always had grand ideas, Becca,” Caroline told her, her light blue eyes watchful, “however, I do not believe even you would dare see them come true.” Still, despite her words, a question clung to her features.
Rebecca shrugged. “Not on my own, of course.” She allowed her gaze to sweep across the ballroom. “The hard part is finding a man who shares them.” She sighed, disappointment chasing away the excitement she’d felt only a moment ago. “U
nfortunately, London is severely lacking in this regard. I doubt I shall ever find a man who would meet my expectations.”
A sigh of relief left Caroline’s lips. “Perhaps that’s for the better.”
“Perhaps,” Rebecca mumbled for her cousin’s benefit, and then for her own, “perhaps not.” Perhaps she simply needed to look harder or use more unconventional means to lure such a man out into the open. Was that not what her uncle had taught her? Unintentionally, of course! To use all means at her disposal?
Chapter Two
An American in London
Lord Mortimer was dead!
Groaning, Zach all but fell backwards, his knees bending as his body dropped into the armchair behind him. His jaw hung slack as he stared at his butler. “You cannot be serious, old man! He’s dead?” So much for the idea of beating the man senseless!
A fortnight had passed since Zach had come to London and realized that, as an American, he was not quite considered a peer, after all. Certainly, he held a title and possessed a vast fortune, however, his background and the means by which that fortune had been acquired were apparently not good enough, not considered respectable. After all, what decent man in his right mind would ever take up something as inappropriate as work? No matter the circumstances.
Therefore, Zach had found it almost impossible to be on friendly terms with anyone of upper society. Indeed, he had proved a curiosity and was invited to balls and events. But he discovered that the men tended to eye him with speculation, looking down at him as someone not worthy of their time and attention, much less their respect.
Zach felt oddly reminded of his father, of how he had to have felt before deciding to seek his fortunes elsewhere, before breaking with everyone he knew and begin again. Indeed, not a day passed that Zach did not feel the desperate need to return home, to leave England behind and hasten back to Boston where he would be greeted with kindness and respect.