by Wolf, Bree
Fortunately, her aunt and uncle still had no knowledge of this. Thankfully, the gentle beast had outdone himself, smoothing her uncle’s ruffled feathers when he had finally found his way to Ravengrove. He’d been enraged by her secret departure, ready to disown her, and Rebecca had been hard pressed to keep her temper in check. Never before had she wanted to scream in his face. Indeed, it had been a true test of her self-control. Still, she had come out the victor with her uncle none the wiser. Besides, as long as he believed she would do all she could to regain Lord Tedious’ favor, he couldn’t very well send her away, could he?
Rebecca smiled at the thought, praying that Lord Tedious was not in a rush; therefore, providing her with the opportunity to move with greater freedom and see her plan through. Still, Rebecca had not been able to keep that night’s events from Caroline as her observant cousin had seen with a single glance that something was occupying Rebecca’s thoughts in a most overwhelming way.
“Please do not think I would not trust you with my secrets,” Rebecca said as she seated herself opposite her cousin, relieved to be out of the stinging cold of the wind. “I love you dearly, but I fear that you would not agree to what I have planned and I cannot risk you interfering.”
Caroline’s jaw dropped. “Have I not always helped you? Have I not always—?”
“Yes, you have,” Rebecca admitted, reaching for her cousin’s hands as the carriage rumbled out into the street. “As you have also always urged me to rethink my choices, have you not?”
Swallowing, Caroline nodded.
“I value your opinion,” Rebecca said, squeezing her cousin’s hands, “but I know that we rarely are of one mind. I simply—”
“Is it dangerous?” Caroline blurted out, her gaze narrowing behind her thick glasses. “What you have planned, will it put you in danger?”
Rebecca swallowed, knowing that she couldn’t in good conscience say no. After all, she did not know that the masked intruder had been Lord Pembroke. She merely suspected. In addition, she could not be certain as to the man Lord Pembroke was. She had merely caught glimpses of him, which had guided her to a conclusion about his character. Still, there was no certainty.
Rebecca could not deny that she liked it this way.
“I know that look,” Caroline commented, a hint of warning in her eyes as her lips thinned and her shoulders drew back. She looked for all intents and purposes like a warrior readying herself for battle. “If it is truly as dangerous as the look on your face suggests, then I cannot—”
“I’ll be fine,” Rebecca rushed to interrupt before her cousin would dig her claws in deeper. “While I cannot tell you what it is I have planned, I can promise you that I will not walk the streets of London alone. I will not leave the house at night. I will not…knowingly put myself in harm’s way. I—”
“Knowingly?” Drat! Of course, Caroline would notice!
Rebecca huffed out a deep sigh. “Can you not trust me? I promise you will be the first to know if I need help in any way. Is that not enough?”
For a long moment, the two cousins looked at one another, and Rebecca could see Caroline’s mind at work, her gaze moving over her face as though in accordance with her thoughts. Then she exhaled a long, rather exasperated-sounding breath. “Very well. I trust you, but you must promise to come to me if…” Shaking her head, she threw up her hands. “Just promise me.”
Smiling, Rebecca nodded. “I promise. Thank you, dear cousin. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Caroline’s brows drew down in disapproval, evidence that she was clearly not satisfied with the agreement they’d reached. “But I will keep an eye on you. You cannot deny me that.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” After all, Rebecca would have done the same if it had been Caroline sneaking around, acting suspicious and doing things that caused her to worry. Indeed, deep down, Rebecca knew that she would’ve been hurt if her cousin did not worry about her the way she did. After all, was that not proof that one was loved?
The next few days kept Rebecca busy. While she waited for the replica of the ring to be finished, she rushed to plan her next steps. How fortunate had she been that the masked intruder had dropped the sketch as he had fled Ravengrove! Of course, she couldn’t be certain that the replica of the ring he was searching for would fool him down to the last detail. If he were to spy it from a distance – say, across a crowded ballroom – it most certainly would draw his attention.
And that was exactly what Rebecca wanted!
Day after day, new gowns and accessories arrived, which pleased her aunt greatly for she foolishly believed Rebecca had ordered them to impress Lord Tedious. Indeed, her aunt praised her for spending her uncle’s money and urged her to continue to do so.
Hiding a grin, Rebecca merely nodded and left her aunt to believe as she wished. Indeed, she would need to take care that Lord Tedious would not interfere with her plans. He had proved rather difficult to shake once he’d latched on to her at a ball. Still, all Rebecca could hope for was that he would not ask for her hand the first opportunity he had. For if she refused him now, her aunt and uncle would undoubtedly restrict her freedom severely, not to mention the harsh lectures and berating she’d have to endure. No, indeed, best to avoid those!
Before the first ball of the Season, Rebecca found herself dragged along to call on a number of her aunt’s acquaintances, utterly boring old matrons who tended to look down their rather long noses at anyone who displeased them. While Caroline proved to be the perfect daughter in all ways but one, dutiful and obedient, but a pitiful wallflower, Rebecca failed to hide her impatience. She earned not only disapproving glances from their hostess, but also found the occasional comment directed at her, followed by her aunt’s stern expression glaring her into the ground.
Still, Rebecca could not rein in her excitement at the thought of the first ball of the Season, her first chance to lure out the masked intruder and prove to herself that he was indeed Lord Pembroke.
At least she hoped that he was!
“Do any of you know when Lord Mortimer holds his famous card game?” Rebecca asked rather innocently, hoping to regain some of the ladies’ favor by taking an interest and being more sociable.
Indeed, only a few days ago, Rebecca had strolled through Hyde Park with her cousin when she’d overheard a group of young gentlemen mention the man’s name. Her heart had all but stilled in her chest, and her ears had strained to listen. Unfortunately, she’d not been able to learn more beyond the fact that the men were eagerly awaiting Lord Mortimer’s annual card game before Caroline had dragged her onward. Unwilling to raise her cousin’s suspicion, Rebecca had complied.
Still, the thought of aiding her masked intruder in retrieving his stolen heirloom was a thought most appreciated! It promised exactly the kind of excitement Rebecca had longed for all her life!
Now, Rebecca was surprised to find all eyes fixed on her. While the young ladies bore a slight frown, suggesting that they knew little if not nothing about Lord Mortimer, the older matrons appeared almost…outraged.
That, of course, tickled Rebecca’s interest. “Is something wrong?”
Lips thinned, and furious glances were exchanged. Embarrassment turned her aunt’s face a darker shade of red before she mumbled an apology to the ladies present. Then she turned from the small circle, grabbed Rebecca by the elbow and all but dragged her away. “How dare you ask such a question in polite society?” her aunt hissed when they came to stand a good distance from the snarling harpies who still cast disapproving looks in their direction. “A proper lady is not to speak of such things!”
“Such things?” Rebecca couldn’t help but ask. “What things? A card game?” Clearly, this was not about a mere card game, and Rebecca was all but dying to know more.
At her niece’s reply, Aunt Mildred looked as though she were about to faint. Her deep blue eyes widened, and her reddened cheeks grew pale. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before Caroline all but sw
ooped in, gently taking her mother’s hand. “Why don’t you return to your friends, Mother? And I shall take Rebecca home.”
Swallowing, Aunt Mildred nodded. Still, the look on her face suggested that she did not cherish the idea of returning to a circle of women who now undoubtedly would look at her with disapproval and pity for possessing a niece of questionable…morals? Manners? Rebecca couldn’t be quite certain as she had no notion of why her aunt’s friends had taken such offense at her question.
Bundled up, Rebecca found herself back in the carriage only moments later, Caroline seated across from her. Disappointment clung to her heart. Clearly, the ladies present had known something and, judging by their haughty expressions, it had been something scandalous, which ought not to have come as a true surprise. After all, the ring the intruder was after had been stolen and then gambled away. At least as far as Eugenie had told her. Was that not highly unusual? Or had Rebecca been so utterly shielded from the true nature of life that she only believed it to be so?
“You cannot ask such questions openly,” Caroline cautioned her as she pulled off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Especially not when it comes to these women. They will not let Mother forget this for a long time.”
Exhaling loudly, Rebecca slumped back in her seat. “I merely inquired after a card game. What, pray tell, is so immoral about a card game? Do these ladies not play cards? Is it not an accepted pastime?”
Caroline snorted, a look of surprise narrowing her clear blue eyes…now that they were no longer obstructed by those hideously thick spectacles. “You know very well that playing cards and gambling are two very different things, and it should not come as a surprise that these ladies hold everyone to the highest standard, demanding nothing short of perfectionism and pouncing on even the smallest fault with an unparalleled viciousness.” Closing her eyes, Caroline inhaled a deep breath after the rush of words that had flown from her lips. Then she placed her spectacles back on her nose and looked at Rebecca with more softness in her eyes. “I understand your curiosity, but it was simply not wise to ask such a question openly. Any woman, especially one so young and unmarried, should have no knowledge of such things. You might have noticed the confused expressions on their daughters’ faces.”
Rebecca nodded, remembering well the narrowed eyes and drawn brows that had met her inquiry.
“There you have it,” Caroline concluded, brushing a hand over a small wrinkle in her pale mud-brown skirts. “One does not speak of such things. One even pretends one has no knowledge of such things for it is more than simply frowned upon.”
“So it would seem,” Rebecca mused when something utterly astonishing slowly began to become very clear to her. “You’re right. The young ladies present seemed completely oblivious, confused why their mothers took such offense.”
“Indeed,” Caroline agreed, her face now almost relaxed as she settled more comfortably into her seat.
“You, however,” Rebecca began, watching her cousin intently, “do not seem confused in the least.” Caroline’s hand froze in the process of brushing out yet another wrinkle. “In fact, you seem to understand surprisingly well why these ladies were so appalled to hear my question.” Caroline swallowed, and the muscles in her jaw tensed. “Let me ask you this, dear cousin, are you not also young and unmarried? And should you, therefore, not also be completely and utterly oblivious?”
Caroline’s eyes closed.
“But you’re not, are you?” Rebecca concluded as her heart thudded wildly in her chest. With eager eyes fixed on her cousin, she leaned forward, stunned to realize that demure Caroline had managed to hide such a secret. What else was there she didn’t know?
Finally, after a small eternity, Caroline met Rebecca’s gaze. “No, I’m not oblivious as you call it.”
A large grin spread over Rebecca’s face. “How devious of you, dear cousin! You berate me for daring to step from the path set in front of me while you yourself are a far cry from the innocent and ignorant young woman you pretend to be. Do tell, how do you know of Lord Mortimer’s card game?”
Resignation momentarily clouded Caroline’s gaze. “If I tell you what I know, will you then promise not to ask how I know?”
“You cannot truly expect me not to ask!”
Once more pulling her spectacles off her nose, Caroline smiled; a smile that hinted at numerous skeletons hidden in her cousin’s closet, a smile that portrayed her not as an innocent young girl, but as a woman who’d seen more than her fair share of the world, a smile that proved to Rebecca that she knew very little about her beloved cousin. “You have your secrets,” Caroline whispered, “and I have mine.”
Rebecca gaped in awe at the young woman seated across from her. “It would seem you’re far better at hiding yours than I could ever hope to be.”
A pleased smile tickled Caroline’s lips before she clamped them shut, her iron will suppressing any sign that Rebecca’s words had affected her in any way. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Her brows rose in question.
“Fine,” Rebecca relented, throwing up her arms in resignation. “I won’t ask how you know if you tell me about Lord Mortimer’s card game.”
Caroline bowed her head in agreement. “Very well. Then listen carefully for I will not repeat this.”
Chapter Eighteen
Of Two Minds
Back in London after the stillness and peacefulness of the country, Zach almost flinched when the sudden hum of voices engulfed him upon entering the Earl of Cowell’s townhouse. His ears buzzed, and the sound was almost painfully uncomfortable, pulsing in his mind like a headache thudding against his temples.
“If you glower at her this way,” Markham commented with a disapproving frown, “she will take one look at you, turn on her heels and walk away. Have you tried smiling? It tells others you’re a pleasant fellow to be around.”
Zach grumbled something under his breath, knowing that any comment at all would only urge Markham on. Best to ignore the man! Still, his friend’s remark served to conjure Miss Hawkins’ image. Try as he might, Zach had found himself unable to banish her from his thoughts these past few weeks. In fact, a part of him had eagerly awaited tonight’s ball, hoping – praying! – that she would attend. That he would get to see her again. That he would get to speak to her, dance with her –
“Remind me never to reveal a secret to you,” Markham muttered beside him as he shook his head from side to side, his gaze narrowed in disapproval once again. “It is indeed shocking how utterly incapable you are of hiding your thoughts.”
Zach swallowed, then cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”
“You were thinking of her, weren’t you?”
“That is not surprising considering that you just mentioned her!” Zach retorted, fighting the urge to cross his arms in front of his chest. “What about your mystery lady? Is she here tonight?” Markham’s lips thinned, and Zach couldn’t help but allow a bit of a triumphant grin to spread over his face. “See? It is not as entertaining if you are the one under scrutiny, is it?”
Markham inhaled a deep breath, then bowed his head slightly in affirmation before he turned away, his dark gaze sweeping over the crowded ballroom.
Reveling in this small victory, Zach found himself unable to step back. “If not the mystery lady, is there another who’s caught your attention?” he asked, grinning when Markham cast him a dark look. “After all, I hear English noblemen are consumed by the notion of providing an heir and continuing their line.” He scoffed. “Truly, your kind has a way of seeing the deeply important things in life.”
Markham chuckled, looking at him with a raised brow. “My kind? Is it not also your kind? Now that you’ve become a peer?”
Zach shrugged. “I might have a title now, but that does not change who I am.”
“Many have believed that,” Markham commented dryly before his eyes moved from Zach and to the men and women crowding the ballroom. His gaze hardened, and the muscles in his jaw tensed. “We all starte
d out as innocent children. Few manage to hold on to the goodness with which they were born.”
Frowning, Zach looked at his friend. “Speaking from experience?”
Markham cleared his throat and the haunted look disappeared. “All I’m saying,” he stated, turning his attention back to Zach, “is that our experiences form us. These people think of themselves as the crème de la crème of humankind, the upper class, somehow better than all the others.” He heaved a sigh full of regret and sadness. “It is that which changes them.”
“Is that how you see yourself?” Zach asked, wondering about the dark thoughts that never seemed to be far from his friend’s mind. Indeed, why was it that people called him the Black Baron? So far, Zach had not come across a satisfying answer, and his friend was as tight-lipped about it as he was about every other aspect of his personal life.
Markham laughed. “I have many faults, but that one I cannot claim.”
Knowing that his friend would not say more on the subject, Zach turned to find a group of young ladies eying them from across the room. He was very much aware that as the American heir, he held a certain foreign allure whereas Markham with his aura of dark secrecy never failed to turn heads. Still, it was a shallow interest, based on nothing but superficial reasons. Something that would never warm the heart or steal his breath. No, for that to happen, he needed more.
A connection.
Honesty.
Vulnerability; as terrifying as that thought was after what had happened to his brother. Zach glanced at his friend. And perhaps to Markham as well? He couldn’t be certain. “If you dislike English society so, why are you here? Why not leave?”
Markham squared his shoulders. “I have a duty here.”
“Then you will marry?”
Markham scoffed. “Not one of them,” he all but growled, his gaze thunderous as he glared at the simpering ladies across the room.