by Wolf, Bree
Not that Rebecca and her new husband cared at all.
As far as Caroline could tell, they were in seventh heaven, luminous smiles painted on their faces, their eyes shining brighter than the sun itself. They were so obviously smitten, so in love with each other, that Caroline felt her heart ache at the sight. Oh, what she wouldn’t give!
Not long ago, Caroline had dared to hope that perhaps she might find love after all, that perhaps marriage could be something different than the restricting cage she’d always thought it to be. Now, however, all seemed lost.
Instead of Pierce, it had been Lord Coleridge who’d offered for her hand and now Caroline found herself in a most unfortunate position. Of course, she didn’t want to marry him. In fact, she’d rather chew off her own leg than be tied to that monster for the rest of her life.
Unfortunately, her parents knew nothing of Lord Coleridge’s true character and were insisting she accept him.
“We never thought anyone would ever offer for you,” her father had pointed out matter-of-factly when she’d shared her reservations to Lord Coleridge’s unexpected proposal. “You should consider yourself lucky to have drawn the attention of such a distinguished gentleman.” He’d chuckled then. “To think that we’d thought him interested in Rebecca when it was you who’s held his heart all along!”
Caroline had nearly gagged at the notion that Lord Coleridge possessed a heart, much less that it could feel anything remotely resembling affection or even love. Still, what was she to say to her parents?
“I understand that you might be reluctant,” her mother had said, gently grasping her hands and leading her over to the settee. “It must be overwhelming to have such an opportunity presented to you so unexpectedly after resigning yourself to a different life. Still, do not allow your fears to keep you from finding happiness. You could have a family, a home of your own. Do you not want to be a wife and a mother?”
Caroline had swallowed hard. Truth be told, she’d dared think of marriage and children lately. But she’d always seen another man by her side.
“Think this through,” her mother had urged her, “but remember that this is your one chance.” She’d sighed sadly.
Pacing nervously, her father had cast an exhausted look at his wife, his face darkening every so often as the promise of his daughter married to a titled gentleman threatened to slip away. “I do not understand your objection,” he’d thundered. “The man possesses every attribute one could hope for, and he wants you.” Incredulity rang in his voice, and it pierced Caroline’s heart to know how lowly her own father thought of her. As though to confirm her thoughts, he went on. “No gentleman has ever looked at you, ever taken note of you. You should consider yourself fortunate and not argue with your parents for seeking to ensure your happiness.” He’d stopped his pacing and stared down at her. “If you do not accept him, no one will have you, do you understand?” Then he’d resumed his pacing.
No one. The notion echoed in her mind. There had been someone, hadn’t there? It was not true that no one had noticed her, that no one had seen her.
Someone had.
Pierce had.
And yet, it had not been enough, had it? It seemed his interest had only been a fleeting infatuation and she was quickly replaced by a woman of stunning beauty. If only she’d never allowed her foolish heart to hope!
Standing on the terrace with Rebecca and her husband as well as his twin brother, Nathanial Caswell, who’d arrived from Boston only a few days before, Caroline could barely follow their conversation. Her thoughts lingered elsewhere and she wished she could speak with Rebecca about all that had happened. However, her cousin did not know, and Caroline did not wish to spoil this beautiful day with her own sorrow.
“How do you like England?” Lord Pembroke asked his brother with a wink.
The man made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, not offering more of an answer before his gaze drifted off.
Caroline watched as Rebecca and her husband exchanged a concerned look. It was one Caroline understood only too well.
Only a few days ago, Rebecca had told her that poor Mr. Caswell had been on the verge of matrimony himself when his fiancée had broken the engagement in a most scandalous way and shattered his heart in the process. The loss still haunted him, his blue eyes unlike his brother’s shrouded in darkness and his lips ever taut as though he knew not the meaning of a smile.
Was this to be her own future as well? Haunted by what could have been? Forever doomed to witness others find happiness, but never to discover any for herself?
As though the universe had a rather sick sense of humor, Pierce walked through the French doors and onto the terrace in that very moment…and Caroline’s heart skipped a beat, only to stumble to a complete halt when she took note of the same exotic-looking beauty on his arm she’d seen him with in Hyde Park a little over a sennight ago.
Mumbling an excuse, Caroline fled inside, her heart hammering wildly and tears brimming in her eyes. Fortunately, she did not encounter anyone as hurried steps carried her onward, her heart desperate for a moment of reprieve. Of course, she’d known that he would attend this festivity; after all, he was Lord Pembroke’s friend. However, she had not been prepared to see him with another woman.
With the same woman as before.
Clearly, the dark-haired beauty meant something to him. Why else would he have invited her here today?
For what seemed like a small eternity, Caroline hid in the library, teetering between despair and heavy sobs rising in her chest and anger toward Pierce, toward herself, for hiding when she ought to stand tall and meet his gaze with unfailing strength. Only when her emotions were firmly back under control did she dare step outside into the hall before walking back toward the gardens from whence happy voices echoed to her ears.
Oh, if only she could go home!
As she crossed the entrance hall and moved past the staircase landing, though, her luck gave out.
With his shoulders drawn back and his features tense, Pierce walked into the hall. His dark gaze swept over the now deserted entrance before moving farther inward. When it reached the staircase landing and fell on her, his feet stilled and his jaw tensed further as his gaze locked on hers.
Caroline couldn’t breathe.
His chest moved as he drew in a long breath, his gaze not veering from hers. Then he moved, approaching with measured steps, each one a threat to her composure, to her heart, and the look in his eyes told her that he would not let her slip away.
Caroline reached out a trembling hand and grasped the banister, hoping its sturdy feel would somehow chase away the flutter in her stomach. She swallowed and raised her chin, regarding him with the same cold detachment she’d drawn upon during the earlier days of their acquaintance.
Before he had stolen her heart…
…and not offered his in return.
Pierce stopped only a few steps in front of her, his dark gaze firmly fixed on hers. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said, his jaw still tight and his voice sounding hoarse as though the words pained him.
Caroline cleared her throat, praying her voice would not waver. “I have a bit of a headache so I—”
“You’re lying!” he snapped, his lips thinning as he took a step closer, the look on his face daring her to do so again.
Caroline tensed, and her shoulders instantly drew back as anger began to pulse in her veins. Who was he to talk to her like this? “Think what you will,” she retorted with equal frankness. “It is none of my concern.”
As she made to walk past him, he stepped into her path, then lowered his head to hers. “What were you doing with him?” he snarled quietly. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he pressed his lips together, fighting for control.
Caroline frowned. “Him?” She knew well who he meant. However, she needed a moment to sort through the clutter in her head, not to mention the raging emotions in her heart. She took a step back and pushed her spectacles higher onto her nose, hop
ing that a distorted image of him would break the spell his presence always cast over her.
Oddly enough, a smile stole onto his face. Before she knew what was happening, he reached out and snatched the spectacles from her nose. “Will you forever wear a mask?” he asked, that teasing smirk she’d come to love curling up the corners of his mouth. “Will you never be you?”
Caroline swallowed, terrified of the sudden urge to smile with him. How could she when he had all but moved on? When all he was doing was simply a game to torment her? “That is none of your concern,” she snapped, stepping forward to retrieve her spectacles. Her hand, however, grasped nothing but air when he swiftly moved them out of her reach.
A low chuckle rumbled in his throat as he looked down at her. “You don’t need them,” he told her and his gaze sobered. “You don’t need to hide. You’re strong, and others will see it, too.”
Scoffing, Caroline shook her head. “You know nothing of what you speak.” Again, she lunged forward to retrieve her spectacles, pushing herself up onto the tips of her toes, when he suddenly took a step back and she all but fell forward…and into his arms.
Gathering her close, Pierce refused to release her. “What were you doing with him?” he asked yet again, his hands tensing where they lay on the small of her back. “I saw you at Hyde Park. You looked…” He swallowed hard, and his jaw clenched.
Caroline felt the rapid beating of his heart against her palm where it lay against his chest and instantly sought to free herself, completely unhinged by the feel of him so close. Still, the harder she shoved against him, the tighter he held her. “Release me!” she snapped, knowing it to be a futile demand.
One hand moved to grasp her chin, tilting her head upward. “What were you doing with him?” His gaze locked on hers.
Caroline swallowed as she leaned back, trying to keep at least a little bit of distance between them. “What is it to you?”
A snarl contorted his face. “How can you ask me that? Do you not remember what he’s done? Do you not care?”
Furious, Caroline tried to jerk her chin free, but to no avail. “Of course, I care!” she growled as her right hand grasped his wrist, hoping to dislodge his hand. “Do you truly think I was with him because I chose to be?”
At her words, his muscles went slack, and Caroline took the opportunity to free herself. Breathing fast, she stumbled backward a few steps. “My spectacles,” she demanded, holding out her hand palm-up.
“What happened?” Pierce inquired, his brows rising as he lifted her spectacles in his hand, making it clear that he wanted a trade.
Caroline huffed out an annoyed breath. “That is none of your concern,” she insisted stubbornly.
His jaw clenched, then he slowly shook his head.
“Fine,” Caroline snapped. “Keep them!” Then she spun on her heels and, before he could interfere, rushed from the front hall toward the terrace. The thought of being surrounded by people in that moment was loathsome to her. But it was the only way she knew he would not follow, would not address her again.
And she needed time to think.
To gather her wits.
To find a way to…to breathe without that pain in her chest.
If that was even possible.
Chapter Thirty-Two
To Help Another
Pierce could have screamed in frustration.
His hand balled around her delicate spectacles, and he had to caution himself not to crush them as he felt the wire starting to surrender under the pressure of his hand.
Slipping them into his pocket, he ran his fingers through his hair as he paced the front hall in quick, angry strides. What on earth had just happened? Why had she been so furious with him?
Pierce could not deny that it riled him that the ease that had developed between them seemed to have disappeared. Even in the beginning, even when they had stood like opponents across from one another, they had been able to talk. Always had they spoken their minds, teased each other, riled each other.
Never had she evaded him.
Not like today.
Not as though he did not matter, as though she wished him gone with a fierceness that rivaled his longing for her.
Although Pierce knew that seeing her without being able to go near her would be utter torture, he could not bring himself to stay way. Fighting for composure, he returned to the terrace, his gaze sweeping over the many guests, laughing and chatting, enjoying a beautiful day.
When he finally spotted her, he was surprised to see that she was with her parents, a sure way to keep him at bay. The moment their eyes met, he knew that she had done so purposefully. She truly didn’t wish to speak with him.
“I assume you didn’t tell her you loved her,” Charlaine commented as she came to stand beside him, her gaze lingering on Caroline and her parents for a moment before it moved to him. “Otherwise, she would not be so furious.” Her gaze narrowed as she tugged on his arm to make him look at her. “What did you say to her?”
Pierce swallowed and met her warm, brown eyes, now glaring at him as though she, too, wished to rip his head off his shoulders. “I will not discuss this with you,” he said quietly, finding it hard to keep his voice low and his body from jerking uncontrollably with frustration.
“Well, you should discuss it with her,” Charlaine retorted, then she reached out and grasped his hand, her eyes sorrowful as they looked up into his. “Sometimes loss cannot be remedied,” she whispered, and he could see tears brimming in her eyes. “Sometimes it is final, and there is nothing we can do about it.” She swallowed, then glanced at Caroline. “This is not one of those times, and you’d do well to remember it.”
Feeling his anger subside, Pierce gently brushed a tear from her cheek, suddenly feeling like a fool. “You’re right,” he said, nodding to her. “I will speak to her again.” A small smile played over his face. “Thank you for wearing shoes today.”
Charlaine laughed, quickly blinking away her tears. “Albert convinced me.”
“Did he now?” Pierce asked, surprised. “How on earth did he manage that?”
Charlaine grinned. “He said it would hurt less if I ever needed to step on someone’s toes and,” she held up her right forefinger as another thought pushed forward, “it would be more effective.”
Pierce smiled, and it felt good. “Whose toes do you intend to step on?”
Shrugging, Charlaine let her gaze glide over the many guests. “I have no immediate plans. But a woman always needs to be prepared.” She spoke lightly, and yet, there was a certain tension in the way she looked at those around her that Pierce could not help but notice.
Indeed, he’d observed here and there that similar to Pembroke, born in America and raised outside the English ton, Charlaine was viewed by most with a certain disapproval for she didn’t quite fulfill the expectations of what a respectable, young woman ought to be.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”
Turning to see Pembroke step up to them, Pierce nodded. “It is a splendid celebration. However, I cannot help but be surprised by it.” His brows rose. “I thought you detested the ton.”
Pembroke laughed, and so did Charlaine. “I cannot say my opinion has changed in that regard. Now, however, I have my wife to consider and she has a cousin very dear to her.” Pembroke’s eyes seemed to widen ever so slightly when he said the word cousin that Pierce could not help but wonder if he suspected something. Had he and Caroline been seen earlier in the hall?
Pembroke cleared his throat as his gaze shifted to Charlaine. “Would you mind granting me a moment alone with my friend?” he asked, a hint of an apology in his voice.
Charlaine smiled. “Not at all.” She grinned at Pierce. “If you need me, I’ll be on the lookout for toes to step on.” And with that, she strode away, her head held high despite the hushed whispers following in her wake. Was England truly the right place for her to be? Pierce wondered. Would she ever fit in here? Find a home? Be happy?
“She
is a very unusual woman,” Pembroke commented, a warm smile on his face. “Remarkable to be exact.” He sighed. “She’ll have a hard time here.”
Pierce nodded. “I fear you’re correct.” Turning to his friend, he met his gaze. “What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s about my brother,” Pembroke began, concern tinging his voice as he glanced at the man who looked like him in every way but one: he was miserable. “When he arrived, I was happy to see him, hoping that he’d put Abigail behind him, that his heart might have healed in the time since.” He shook his head. “Now, I know it was a fool’s hope.”
Pierce nodded as he turned to look at the young man in question. Although Nathanial Caswell didn’t sulk in a corner, the look in his eyes whispered of a shattered life. He was polite and spoke with a kind voice. He asked questions and provided answers. He did what was expected of him. He possessed impeccable manners, more so than his wayward brother, and knew his place in the world.
But his eyes were dead.
There was no spark.
No emotion.
Nothing.
He’d had his heart broken. And now, he’d built a wall around it, afraid to have it happen again. “What can I do?” Pierce asked, wondering if there was anything to be done at all. How did one recover from such a loss? He wondered, and his gaze darted to Caroline before he forced it away.
Pembroke sighed. “I thought I could distract him, that all he needed was family around who cared about him. With our parents dead, I’m all he has left, but now…” he shook his head, “I fear I’m the wrong man to help him.”
“Why would you say that?”
He scoffed. “I see the way he looks at me and Rebecca. We remind him of what he lost. No, I’m the wrong man to urge him from this isolation he’s forced on himself.” He met Pierce’s gaze. “Do you think you could…?”
Pierce nodded. “I shall try.”
Pembroke cast him a relieved smile. “Perhaps if he would mingle, meet new people…” He shrugged, then paused and his eyes lit up. “I heard it whispered that there’s a masquerade the week after next. Perhaps it would do him good to pretend to be another, to take on a role even if only for one night.”