by Wolf, Bree
“Did he love her?” she couldn’t help but ask as a sense of guilt stole over her for deceiving him so. After all, she could not possibly return what she did not have.
His eyes held hers. “More than life itself.”
Rebecca swallowed, remembering the soft love she’d seen between her own parents as a child. The image had grown dimmer over the years, and yet, a part of her still remembered what it looked like when two people were in love.
“Before he died, my father gave the ring to my brother and me,” Lord Pembroke went on, his gaze watchful, reading her reaction as much as she was listening to his words. “Last year, my brother found love – or so he’d thought – and so he gave the ring to his fiancée.” Pain and anger stood on his face, and Rebecca knew they were nearing the end of his tale. “Lord Mortimer charmed my brother’s fiancée and persuaded her to give him the ring.” He scoffed. “I know now that it was nothing more than a game on his part, a bored lord with too much time on his hands.” He drew in a slow breath, and his gaze returned to hers. “For my brother, it was devastating.”
Rebecca swallowed, and her guilt settled in her stomach like a block of ice. “You seek to retrieve the ring to ease his mind,” she whispered, certain he’d be furious with her once he found out the truth. How could he not? Would he then no longer look at her the way he often did? The way that touched her like nothing ever had before? The way that had made her bold enough to lure him to her chamber this night?
A hint of surprise came to Lord Pembroke’s gaze before he nodded. “I am trying to, but it proves a difficult feat to accomplish.” His shoulders sagged, and she could see how disheartening his search had been.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca whispered, unable not to utter the words at the sight of his misery.
His eyes lingered on hers. “What for? For toying with me? For—?”
“For the pain you’ve been through,” Rebecca interrupted, wondering if she’d gone too far, if she’d antagonized him too much, if he would forgive her for her curiosity…for her deception. “I never meant to add to it, I swear. I only meant to…understand, to…get to know you better.” Odd, how vulnerable she felt admitting such a simple thing!
His gaze held hers as he moved closer, all vulnerability gone, once again replaced by the silent threat that had towered above her before. “It’s your turn now. How do you know about my father’s ring? How,” his teeth gritted together for a split second, “did you come by it?”
Rebecca swallowed. “I know what I know from my friend, Eugenie.” Her gaze swept his face. “Your cousin, is she not? From what she said, you’ve never met. Are you not curi—?”
“Do not try to distract me?” he growled, his gaze hard as it drilled into hers. “Tell me!”
“Very well,” Rebecca said, shrugging with more nonchalance than she felt. “All I know, I know from her. She told me what you told her that night at Ravengrove.”
His gaze narrowed. “What about Lord Mortimer? Do you…? You seem to…” His voice trailed off as though he could not bring himself to finish the questions that were tormenting him.
“I’ve never met the man,” Rebecca told him, and her stomach did another flip when she saw Lord Pembroke exhale at her words. “All I know is what my cousin told me. She said that he holds an annual card game where fortunes are lost and won, where jewels are gambled away and worn as trophies, where…” She paused, unsure how to put into words what Caroline had no more than hinted at. From the look in her cousin’s eyes, it had been clear that she’d referred to scandalous activities. However, how to address these now…?
Rebecca’s head snapped up when Lord Pembroke pushed closer, his wide eyes seeking hers. “Did you…attend?”
Although she ought to have expected such an assumption on his part, Rebecca could not keep her jaw from dropping. “I have not,” she finally said, feeling her balance upended as she strove to hold his gaze. Her heels rocked back and, for a daunting moment, she thought she’d fall backwards.
But then large hands reached for her, seized her around her middle and held her in place, not pulling her back onto her feet, but holding her in suspension as though threatening to release her at any moment.
Drawing in a sharp breath, Rebecca glared up at the man who had earlier accused her of toying with him. “What are you doing?” she demanded, cursing under her breath when he moved forward each time she tried to take a step back and regain her balance.
“I need answers,” he told her, his dark gaze looking down at her as his hands kept her from crashing to the ground. “Honest answers.”
“I haven’t lied to you once,” Rebecca snapped as her hands dug into his arms lest he decided to drop her.
Lord Pembroke chuckled. It was a dark sound. “Do you truly expect me to believe that after everything you’ve done to lure me here tonight?”
Reminding herself that he did have a point, Rebecca tried to swallow her anger. “I did so to speak with you. For no other reason. You have my word.”
His gaze held hers as he seemed to contemplate her answer. “Your cousin,” he finally said, “is she the woman who walked in with you at the Cowells’ ball? The one with the thick spectacles and rather…colorless attire?”
Rebecca nodded, and his brows rose in doubt, challenging the truth of her words. “She’s more than meets the eye,” Rebecca defended herself as much as Caroline. “She wouldn’t tell me how she knew, but I could tell that she wasn’t lying.”
His hands tightened on her, pulling her closer against him, as his gaze lingered on her face. “As are you.”
Rebecca frowned. “Pardon me?”
The hint of a smile curled up his lips. “You, too, are more than meets the eye, would you not agree?”
Again, Rebecca’s stomach flipped and, instantly, her anger vanished, replaced by a delicious warmth. “You don’t sound disapproving.”
“I’m not,” he whispered, “however, I do wonder.”
“As do I.” Her hands held on to him, pulling her closer and further up onto her feet. “Will you release me, please?” she asked, wondering if she truly wanted him to.
In the next instant, his arms fell away and her stomach lurched upward as she fell backwards. Panic clenched her heart…before he caught her, pulling her back up.
Panting, Rebecca clung to him. “How dare you?” she demanded, wanting to slap him and hug him at the same time.
Lord Pembroke chuckled. “I can only hope it’ll teach you not to toy with people.”
Drawing air back into her lungs, Rebecca finally got her feet back under her, that needling guilt soaring to life once more. “That, I cannot promise,” she retorted with a scoff as she stepped back, putting a bit of much needed distance between them.
The smile on his face froze, then slid off as his gaze grew dark once more. “Give me the ring,” he demanded, holding out his hand. “Now.”
Straightening, Rebecca shook her head, knowing that the moment of truth was upon them. Would he turn from her now? Was this the last moment they’d have together? The thought broke her heart, but there was no help for it. He deserved the truth, and she could not bear the thought of lying to him more than she already had. “I cannot for I—”
They both froze as footsteps echoed closer from down the corridor. Lord Pembroke’s head swung around, his eyes sweeping the room before settling back on hers, a question in them as bright as day.
“Leave!” Rebecca hissed, pointing at the window and the rope he’d left there. “Or you’ll be discovered.”
For a second, Lord Pembroke seemed to hesitate as though contemplating whether or not this was part of her game. Then he hastened past her, reaching for the rope. The moment he climbed out onto the window’s ledge, his eyes once more met hers. “This is not over,” he hissed under his breath before vanishing from sight.
With her heart hammering in her chest, Rebecca rushed back into bed, pulling the covers almost over her head as she feigned sleep; an almost impossible task considering th
e energy that hummed through her limbs. Still, the maid came and went none the wiser. No doubt, her aunt had instructed the girl to look in on her. Considering the magnitude of the headache Rebecca had pleaded in order to be allowed to remain at home, she ought not have been surprised.
Still, it had been well worth it. For although Lord Pembroke had proved to possess a wicked streak not unlike her own, Rebecca could not deny that it felt most satisfying to know that he cared for her. Of course, he had not told her so – at least not in words – but she had no doubt that their paths would cross again. His last words to her were proof of his intentions.
Fortunately, they coincided with her own.
Unfortunately, however, all they could have had might be lost because of her deception. Once he found out that the ring he sought was not truly in her possession, that she had lied to him, manipulated him, he would no doubt be disgusted with her. Hate her.
Tears pricked the back of her eyes at the thought, and Rebecca knew in that moment that his loss would crush her. Was there no help for it though? Might there not be a way to earn his forgiveness? To remedy what she had done?
Of course, she could apologize – and she would – but a mere apology would not do. No, the only way Rebecca could fathom regaining Lord Pembroke’s favor after he found out about her duplicity was by returning his father’s ring to him. Of course, she had no idea where it was. Perhaps though she could help him discover its whereabouts and aid in its retrieval. Perhaps he would forgive her then.
Rebecca hoped for it to be true with all her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
More Than Meets the Eye
Deciding against attending the Winthrope ball – after all, what point would there be? – Zach headed home. Gusford opened the door the moment he stepped up to it, the old man’s seeing eyes gliding over him in frank perusal. Despite his butler’s initial insistence to maintain a professional relationship of master and servant, he had eventually given in. Not that the old man would ever admit to it. However, Zach had seen a concerned glimmer in the man’s eyes more than once and he could not deny that it felt good to have someone care.
Truly care.
“Welcome home, my lord,” Gusford grumbled in his usual way as his gaze narrowed. “I suspect your evening did not go as planned.”
Handing his coat and gloves to a footman, Zach sighed. “It did not.” In truth, there were no words to describe how very unusual and highly unexpected this evening had been. Indeed, Miss Hawkins was one of a kind!
“I’m afraid it will continue in the same fashion,” Gusford interrupted Zach’s thoughts, his pale eyes narrowing once more before they drifted across the foyer. “Lord Markham awaits you in your study, my lord.”
Zach frowned. “This late?”
Gusford cleared his throat, a disapproving expression settling on his features as he raised his chin a fraction. “I’m afraid his lordship could not be dissuaded.”
Grinning, Zach shook his head. “I’ve never known him to be.” He took a step toward his study before turning back to look at his trusted butler. “Go on ahead to bed, old man. You look the fright.”
Gusford bowed his head. “A good night to you as well.” Then he shuffled away, mumbling something under his breath that put a smile on Zach’s face.
Throwing open the door to his study, Zach found his friend seated in his leather armchair, openly perusing the papers on his desk. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”
“I can’t complain,” Markham grinned, watching as Zach closed the door and poured himself a drink.
Gulping down the contents in one swig, Zach felt Markham’s calculated expression turn into a frown as the other man leaned back leisurely. “Do I have to throw you out of my chair?” he asked his rather audacious friend. “Or will you vacate it voluntarily?”
Markham chuckled. “How about a trade? Tell me what has you so on edge, and I’ll see what I can do about the chair?”
Shaking his head, Zach threw up his hands. His limbs still humming with the excitement of the night that he doubted they would agree to sit idly anyhow. “Suit yourself,” he mumbled as his feet began to carry him up and down the side of the room, his thoughts drawn back to Miss Hawkins, her wide eyes defiant as she’d looked up at him. As angry as he’d been with her, with the game she’d played, with…everything, Zach could not deny that seeing her true self that night had been utterly mesmerizing.
“I take it you weren’t able to retrieve your father’s ring,” Markham mumbled, seemingly more to himself than to seek an actual answer. His gaze stayed with Zach, and his eyes narrowed further bit by bit as his mind analyzed the evidence before him. “Still, you don’t seem simply disappointed. Something unexpected happened tonight, and—”
“That is a severe understatement!” Zach exclaimed, unable to hold back the laughter that spilled forth. Again, he shook his head. “She caught me completely off guard!”
“We’re talking about Miss Hawkins, are we not?” Markham inquired as he leaned back, resting his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers in a deeply thoughtful and terribly mocking gesture. “You’re home early, so I assume something happened that cut your appearance at the Winthrope ball short?”
Zach stopped in the middle of the room and turned to face his friend, strangely elated that Markham had not foreseen the events of that night. “I didn’t attend at all.” He chuckled, his eyes widening, still fixed on his friend. “And neither did she.”
The smile on Markham’s face vanished, replaced by a frown. “She didn’t attend? But then—?”
“She feigned a headache,” Zach elaborated, unable not to share what had happened that night. Oddly enough, he felt proud of her scheming mind! When had that happened?
“So, she was at home when you…?” Markham’s voice trailed off, and he leaned forward in his seat.
Zach nodded. “She was. In fact, she was waiting for me. Apparently, she thought she’d all but invited me.”
“What? How? You didn’t say anythi—”
“I didn’t know,” Zach interrupted, his thoughts racing to make sense of it, to remember what exactly had happened that evening a sennight ago. “She did say something about being unable to wear the ring as often as she would prefer as it did not go with most of her gowns.” He slapped his forehead. “That was, in fact, what made me think that I would find the ring in her chamber tonight.” He stared at Markham. “She tricked me. She assured me she would be at the ball herself…after I asked.”
“How could she know you’d ask?”
Zach shrugged. “I don’t know, but now I think that everything she said that night was meant to lead me to the conclusion that tonight would be a good opportunity to retrieve the ring.”
Markham’s frown deepened, confusion marking his features – a rare sight indeed! “So, she knew it was you? How could she have known? How—?”
Zach quickly passed on all that he’d learned that night to his friend, about Ravengrove, about his cousin, and yet, many questions remained unanswered. “Do I need to be worried that she’ll reveal my identity?”
Markham shook his head. “She clearly has some kind of plan. I doubt that revealing your identity is part of it. After all, she’s already had the perfect opportunity to do so.”
“I still don’t know how she got the ring,” Zach mumbled, his gaze distant as he searched his mind for something that would tie all the many loose ends into a perfect knot. “She knew about Mortimer’s card game, too.”
“She did?” Markham asked, then chuckled. “Indeed, she seems to be a highly unusual lady.”
“Apparently, her cousin provided the necessary information. I’m relieved she didn’t attend in order to lear—”
“Her cousin?” Markham inquired as he pushed out of Zach’s armchair. “Miss Caroline Hawkins? She was the one to tell her about the card game?”
Looking at his friend, Zach nodded. “That’s what I said, isn’t it? Why?”
Markham’s gaz
e became distant, and an amused chuckle rumbled in his throat. “That little minx,” he mumbled before his eyes rose, returning to Zach. “What will you do now?”
Zach shrugged. “I need to retrieve my father’s ring. That has not changed.” He sighed. “And I need to speak to her again. I need to know…” He swallowed, realizing that there was very little he didn’t wish to know about Rebecca Hawkins. Indeed, after tonight, he doubted he’d be able to keep his thoughts off her for even a moment.
“Then go and ask her.”
“Now?”
Markham rolled his eyes. “Of course not. But the next opportunity you get. Clearly, she wants to talk to you as well.” He clapped a hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Be grateful for that. Some women will fight you tooth and nail to keep their secrets.” His jaw tensed as though he were thinking of one woman in particular. Then he inhaled a deep breath and stepped back. “I’ll see myself out.”
Finally sinking into his vacated armchair, Zach listened to his friend’s receding footsteps as his thoughts returned to the events earlier that evening.
To say that he’d been shocked to see her in her chamber in her nightgown would be an understatement. Still, thinking back now brought no anger to his heart, but put a smile on his lips instead. Yes, he’d been enraged to think that she’d toyed with him, that she’d used him, that she didn’t care. However, he’d seen no malice in her eyes, only curiosity. Had she not said so herself? That she had not meant to cause him pain? That she merely wanted to get to know him better?
Closing his eyes, Zach remembered the defiant lift of her chin as she’d held his gaze, the way she’d moved without hesitation to relieve him of his mask, the way she’d felt in his arms, her warm breath fanning over his lips as she’d clung to him, enraged when he’d been the one toying with her.