by Wolf, Bree
Caroline knew from experience that there was nothing that would urge Rebecca to confide in her before she was ready to do so on her own. Still, Caroline had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach about Lord Coleridge’s supper invitation and she did not dare ignore it. So, after promising her cousin that she would do as asked, Caroline returned to her own chamber and wrote a letter to Lord Pembroke to be sent out the next day.
Hopefully, in time.
Lord Pembroke,
I write to you in the hopes that you truly care for my cousin and would never knowingly endanger her. As she refuses to confide in me, I can merely guess what is afoot. However, I thought you should know that Lord Coleridge sent a note inviting our family to his townhouse for supper tonight. Judging from my cousin’s reaction, I assume that she plans something, whether or not you’re aware of it I cannot say. I leave it to you to decide whether or not such a plan could be dangerous to her. However, I must warn you, should you fail to act and my cousin is harmed in any way, I shall become very unpleasant. I hope I’ve made myself clear.
The Other Miss Hawkins
Judging from the way Lord Pembroke looked at Rebecca whenever she drew near, it was clear that he cared for her…deeply. Caroline prayed that she was not mistaken in assuming that he would act should Rebecca’s plan prove dangerous to her.
And so, Caroline could do nothing more but ask for his help in the matter, not knowing what exactly it was she was asking for. All she could do was hope that Lord Pembroke would put Rebecca’s well-being above everything else and do what was needed. Was that not what one did when in love?
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Gentleman Interferes
So far, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred since they’d arrived at Lord Coleridge’s house, and Caroline was grateful for it.
As expected, her parents were delighted with their host, who spent the larger part of their supper recounting the moment he’d been held at gunpoint, or rather his driver. For that reason alone, Lord Coleridge had refrained from any heroic deeds so as not to endanger the man’s life—or so he insisted.
Of course, Caroline’s father assured him that he’d acted nobly and deserved nothing less than the highest honor.
Caroline could not deny that the man looked fairly pleased with himself. “Excuse me, my lord,” she inquired when an opportunity arose. “May I ask? Was it only one highwayman who attacked you?”
Seeing his aspirations endangered, her father instantly snapped at her. “Caroline, that’s enough!”
In order to maintain her father’s impression of her, Caroline quickly bowed her head and mumbled an apology, hating every moment of it. Fortunately for her, though, Lord Coleridge seemed to enjoy being the topic of discussion.
“It’s quite all right,” he trilled in an oddly sweet voice that sent a shiver down Caroline’s back. “Yes, it was only one man, but since he had a pistol trained on my trusted servant I had no choice but to comply with his demands.”
“I see,” Caroline pushed carefully. “Did you see his face?”
“Unfortunately, he wore a mask.”
Unfortunately, indeed. Still, a mask? Had it been the man she’d encountered more than once herself? And if so, was this man Lord Markham? “Was there anything about him you recognized?” she asked, all but holding her breath.
Lord Coleridge’s gaze narrowed in a rather calculated fashion. His voice, however, betrayed none of his suspicions. “I cannot say that I did,” he replied, looking for all intents and purposes like a predator on the prowl. There was something deeply unsettling about this man. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m only concerned,” Caroline mumbled as she dropped her gaze, hoping to extinguish all suspicions that might have arisen in his mind. “The notion of a highwayman lying in wait is most disturbing. I can only hope he will be apprehended soon.”
Did she? In truth, Caroline could not deny that the thought of her masked stranger being apprehended caused her no small amount of regret. At what point, exactly, had she come to think of him as hers though?
In that moment, movement caught her eyes from the window, and Caroline could barely prevent herself from turning toward it…and perhaps drawing everyone else’s attention there as well. Her teeth gritted together as her iron will overruled her reflexes, and she forced herself to draw in a slow breath. Then she lowered her head in that unobtrusive way she’d acquired long ago, her gaze fixed on her food before she allowed her eyes to drift sideways toward the window while her left hand brushed a nonexistent curl behind her ear in distraction should anyone chance a look at her.
A mask!
Despite the darkening sky, Caroline was certain she had seen a mask before it had quickly disappeared. Whoever was out there was careful not to be seen, never revealing himself for long. Was it her very own masked stranger? But what would be his reason for coming here tonight? No, in all likelihood, it was Lord Pembroke. It would seem he had received and read her letter and determined Rebecca’s plan was too dangerous.
Otherwise, why would he be here?
Caroline breathed easier, knowing he was nearby, and yet, the thought that he believed Lord Coleridge a danger to Rebecca was highly unsettling. Or was Lord Pembroke simply jealous? Fearing the other lord would beat him to Rebecca’s hand in marriage? But if they were in love, why would he think she’d accept him?
Caroline could’ve cursed out loud, shocking everyone at the table. Why were there so many secrets between them? Why did they all feel compelled to keep their lives in the dark? If only her parents were less ambitious, allowing them greater freedom, Caroline was certain neither she nor Rebecca would have felt compelled to live their lives in the shadows, afraid to lose any chance for it.
“Certainly,” her father exclaimed, joy in his voice. “Of course, I have no objections as I’m certain she’ll be in good hands with you.”
Caroline blinked. What had just happened?
Her gaze drifted from her parents to Lord Coleridge as they all rose from their seats. Rebecca, too, seemed out of sorts as she hadn’t been listening, either, confusion in her green eyes.
“What is it, Mother?” Caroline whispered, but her mother only shook her head, unwilling to answer, while her father walked over and uttered a few hushed words to Rebecca that had the color all but drain from her face.
Caroline froze, seeking her cousin’s gaze, wondering if this was the moment Rebecca had referred to. Would Rebecca wink at her now, asking Caroline to faint?
Although their eyes met for the barest of moments, Rebecca did not wink, the look in her eyes that of one whose mind was racing to adapt. What had gone wrong? What would happen now?
Caroline wished she could speak to her cousin. But her parents ushered her out of the room, following Lord Coleridge’s butler. “What about Rebecca?” she asked. “Is she not joining us?”
Her mother and father merely exchanged a pleased smile, which told Caroline all she needed to know.
Lord Coleridge intended to propose and her parents would not dare interfere!
Caroline could only hope Rebecca knew what she was doing, that Lord Pembroke was still nearby, that he would keep an eye on her, that he would interfere if necessary.
Caroline and her parents were shown to the drawing room where she was forced to listen to them all but plan the wedding that was now within their grasps. They discussed the guest list as well as the effects it would have on their own standing to have their niece married to a man like Lord Coleridge. Occasionally, Caroline felt her father’s eyes on her, regret shining in them, no doubt contemplating what could have been if Caroline had not been the unfortunate grey mouse she’d become.
Pacing the length of the room, Caroline tried her best to ignore her parents while congratulating herself on her foresight to have concocted such a plan to hide herself. It had been wise, indeed!
How much time passed, Caroline could not say. All she knew was that her heart nearly stopped when the sound of shattering glass s
uddenly echoed through the house.
She froze, and so did her parents, their eyes as wide as hers.
In the next second, they heard servants rushing along the corridors, their voices strained and filled with concern.
“Father!” Caroline exclaimed, rushing forward to grip his hands. “We need to see to Rebecca. What if something happened? We need to ensure she’s all right.” Then she added, “She and Lord Coleridge!”
Shaken from his momentary paralysis, her father nodded and, a moment later, they found themselves rushing toward the back of the house to where a newly-built conservatory had been added.
Stumbling inside, they found Lord Coleridge passed out on the ground, shards of glass covering the floor around him, a huge hole in the back wall.
Rebecca was nowhere to be seen!
While Lord Coleridge was tended to and her parents fluttered about, demanding answers from the overwhelmed servants, Caroline continued to stare at the hole. Please, let her be all right! She whispered, praying that Lord Pembroke had come for Rebecca after all. That she was safe. That he truly valued her cousin’s well-being above everything else.
Was that not what love was?
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Late Visitor
Pierce arrived home later than expected, his thoughts occupied with Pembroke’s blurted admission, I love her. Indeed, the man looked positively smitten, and it had not taken long for his friend to realize how deep his feelings for Miss Rebecca Hawkins truly ran. Once he had though, it had been impossible for Pierce to dissuade him.
Not that Pierce had wanted to. He’d just wanted his friend to be certain of what he wanted.
Of whom he wanted.
For that very reason, Pierce had set out the night before and detained Lord Coleridge in his very own, highly effective, but unfortunately far from legal manner. Pembroke had been livid when he’d found out, yelling and ranting, until Caroline’s letter had arrived.
Even now, Pierce felt himself grin rather stupidly at the few sentences she’d penned, the veiled threats that had lingered underneath. His little mouse was, indeed, a force to be reckoned with!
It had been her letter that had made all the difference for it had opened Pembroke’s eyes to the threat Coleridge presented. He was a man with no scruples. A man who’d all but offered up his driver’s life to remain unhurt himself. A man who valued nothing and no one but himself.
Pierce had known men like him.
And he despised them.
As it was rather late in the day, Albert welcomed him home as Pierce stepped across the threshold, the man’s work for the orphanage finished. “How are the children?”
“Quite well,” Albert replied, a slight tremble in his hands.
“And the numbers add up?” Pierce asked suspiciously, handing his coat and gloves to a footman.
Albert nodded. His eyes seemed wider than usual before he opened his mouth. “You have a visitor, my lord.”
“A visitor?” Pierce repeated. “This late?”
Again, Albert nodded, his gaze traveling sideways to the door to the drawing room, the look in his eyes stating loud and clear what he thought of said visitor.
“Who is it?”
Albert inhaled a deep breath. “Lord Coleridge.”
Pierce’s jaw tensed. “Did he give a reason for this visit?”
“No, my lord. He seemed rather…displeased.”
Pierce snorted, suspecting that that was a large understatement. If everything had gone as planned tonight, then Lord Coleridge had just lost his future fiancée or rather the large dowry she would have brought into the marriage!
“Head on to bed, old man,” Pierce told Albert with a pat on the man’s frail shoulder. “I’ll take care of this.” Then he strode over to the drawing room, waving his footman away as the young man moved to open the door.
No sounds could be heard from inside, and Pierce wondered how far Coleridge’s wrath had cooled. Why had the viscount sought him out anyhow? Because the man knew he and Pembroke were acquaintances? Friends even? Did Coleridge truly entertain hopes of retrieving his lost fiancée-to-be?
Silently, Pierce slipped into the room, noting the way Coleridge paced like a caged animal in front of the fireplace. His clothing looked disheveled and his hair unkempt. His face portrayed a darker shade of red, and his eyes were in slits, his jaw tense as he grumbled something under his breath. It also appeared that the man had been struck down again—presumably by Pembroke—after the blow Pierce had delivered to his head the day before.
A most unfortunate week for Lord Coleridge!
Pierce could not help but smile. “What brings you here this late?” he demanded, his expression, once more, hard and unyielding, his tone authoritative, meant to dispel any hopes the man might have for Pierce’s cooperation.
At the sound of his voice, Coleridge wheeled around. For a moment, he seemed at a loss before anger once more sparked in his eyes. “Where is he?”
Sighing as though completely and utterly bored, Pierce lifted one brow. “Who?”
“Pembroke!” Coleridge fumed. “I know it was him! I know he took her!”
“Who?” Pierce asked, enjoying the way the viscount’s face turned an even darker shade of red.
The man’s teeth gritted together as he fought down his anger. “My fiancée.”
“Then she’s agreed to marry you?” Pierce asked lightly, a hint of incredulity in his voice as he casually strode closer.
Coleridge swallowed. “She was about to.”
Pierce chuckled. “Are you saying Pembroke kidnapped her against her will?”
The man’s hands balled into fists. Still, he made no move to approach. “Her uncle does.”
This time, Pierce laughed. “I doubt the man knows half of what he thinks he does.”
“Where did he take her?” Coleridge demanded, a hint of panic in his widening gaze.
“What makes you think I know?”
Coleridge snorted. “You seem well-acquainted. I always see the two of you whispering.”
Pierce nodded. “And what makes you think I’d tell you?” he demanded with a grin he simply couldn’t keep contained. Not that he needed to. After all, by now, Pembroke and Miss Hawkins were well on their way to Scotland. Soon, there would be nothing Coleridge or her uncle could do.
Coleridge looked ready to explode. “Tell me where they are!”
“You’re not a very persuasive man,” Pierce remarked dryly, noting the fury that held the other man in its grip. Still, he never dared advance, never tried to intimidate Pierce into revealing what he would not. Indeed, Coleridge rather appeared intimidated himself. He was livid, yes. But he did not dare cross Pierce.
It would seem he was one of those men who only preyed on those weaker than himself!
“If there’s nothing else, my lord,” Pierce stated, “I must ask you to leave now.”
Coleridge swallowed, and it was evident that he had more to say. A lot more. However, he refrained from doing so until he was out the door and striding across the foyer, his mumbled curses like music to Pierce’s ears.
It was about time that bad things started happening to bad people!
Chapter Twenty-Five
A Little Girl in the Dark
Not knowing was torture!
Pacing the length of her chamber, Caroline knew not what to do. Her body hummed with the need to move, to find out what had happened, where her cousin was. She hoped and prayed for the best, but she did not know.
“Perhaps you should rest,” Sarah suggested feebly.
Caroline snorted, her restless fingers fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown’s sleeve. How on earth was she to close her eyes under these circumstances? Would her parents truly go to bed and be able to sleep, not knowing where Rebecca was?
To Caroline, it seemed impossible.
Not wishing to endanger their niece’s reputation, Caroline’s parents had refrained from alerting the authorities, relying on Lord Coleridge’s promis
e that he would retrieve Rebecca. Caroline doubted that was possible. She hoped it was not. She prayed her beloved cousin was safe and sound with the man she loved. However, she knew not what plan Pembroke had concocted.
And it drove her mad.
If only there was a way for her to find out what had happened! Where they had gone!
“Lord Markham!” The name flew from Caroline’s lips in a hushed tone. She clamped her hands over her mouth in shock.
“Are you all right?” Sarah asked as she strode closer, her green eyes watchful as they swept over Caroline. “What about Lord Markham?”
Drat! Why had she spoken out loud? “It’s nothing.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Caroline sighed. “Fine, I simply realized that as Lord Pembroke’s friend, Lord Markham might know what happened tonight. He might know where they are.”
Sarah nodded. “Do you wish to send him a message?”
“Yes!” No! Caroline frowned. By the time her message was delivered and answered, it would be morning and she wouldn’t have slept a wink.
Sarah’s eyes widened, and she began to slowly shake her head from side to side. “Absolutely not! No!”
Caroline frowned. “Who works for whom?”
“I don’t care,” Sarah retorted firmly, her bright green eyes flashing dangerously. “That man is not who he says he is. He is hiding something, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone with him.”
Caroline paused. “How do you know?” Of course, she had her own suspicions, however, how would Sarah have obtained said information? Or at least drawn such a conclusion?
Her friend inhaled a rather exhausted breath. “I’ve watched people my whole life. He is hiding something.”
“But perhaps it’s nothing bad.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “You cannot truly believe that.” Then her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What happened? You’ve been…not yourself for days. Something’s changed since…since the day you asked me to fetch him.” Her hands settled on Caroline’s shoulders, her green eyes drilling into her friend’s. “What did he do?”