by Wolf, Bree
More than once, he’d wanted to seek her out over the past week, but there had never been an opportune moment. Why was it that now when he had something meaningful to say their paths didn’t cross?
“Where are you going?” Charlaine asked from the landing in the foyer as he came down the stairs. “You look quite dashing.”
“A masquerade,” he told her, holding up the two black masks he was taking along for the occasion. A part of him wished he could simply ride out and set upon one of Coleridge’s companions. That would no doubt prove a more satisfying night than the one ahead of him.
“That sounds exciting!” Charlaine exclaimed. “Are you going alone?”
Pierce stepped down into the hall and proceeded toward the front door. “No, Pembroke asked me to take along his brother.”
Charlaine frowned. “Does he know where you’re headed?”
Pierce chuckled as his footman, Jacob, helped him into his coat. “He does not,” he admitted, wondering about the thoughtful look on Charlaine’s face. “Are you better acquainted with the man than I thought you were?”
Grinning at him, she shrugged. “I spoke to him once as you well know since you were watching us.”
“Guilty!” Pierce admitted as he strode toward the door.
Albert moved to open it. “Have a nice evening, my lord.”
Pierce nodded to the old man. “Thank you, and you know where to find me if anything important arises. Send for me immediately if you hear from the Bow Street Runners.”
Albert nodded solemnly. “Of course, my lord.”
Then Pierce turned to Charlaine and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. “Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Charlaine nodded, a pleasant smile on her face. “You as well.”
Frowning, Pierce paused as he saw that slight curve come to her lips that usually meant that she was hiding something and could barely suppress a smile of triumph from claiming her face. “Is something wrong?”
Shrugging, she shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“Very well,” Pierce said, knowing he didn’t have the time to probe further. “Have a good night.” And with a last glance over his shoulder, he strode out of the house and toward the carriage waiting by the curb. However, a moment before the door closed behind him, he heard Charlaine say, “Albert, we need to talk.”
Pierce sighed. What was she up to now? He could only hope it was something simple, like not wearing shoes. Unfortunately, he rather doubted it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
A Daring Message
Looking over her shoulder, Caroline hurried down the darkened street, her feet moving swiftly and quietly until she reached the familiar townhouse. Once before, she’d come here at night and she remembered well the way Daphne had sneaked outside in a flight of panic. Retracing her steps from that night, Caroline entered the house through the servants’ entrance and headed toward the drawing room.
The house was quiet and no lights burned except for the dim gleam reaching out into the hall from under the door to the drawing room.
Caroline inhaled a shuddering breath, her thoughts drifting back to the short note Pierce had sent her, begging her to come see him. She’d been surprised to hear from him, but her heart had danced with joy and she’d known in that second that she wouldn’t be able to ignore his request.
Perhaps tonight would finally see her questions answered. She could only hope it would not also see her heart broken.
Quietly, Caroline moved across the hall to the closed door. Her hand rose and settled on the handle, then after another deep breath, she pushed it down and slowly slid the door open. Her eyes flew around the room as her feet moved across the threshold.
Halfway in, Caroline froze.
There, across the room by the fireplace, someone awaited her. However, it was not Pierce, but Miss Palmer, her exotic beauty once more a severe blow to Caroline’s confidence. Could a man, any man, truly look at a woman as stunning as her and only see her as a sister? And where was Pierce?
“I’m so glad you received my message,” Miss Palmer exclaimed, her speech heavily accented, but charming nonetheless, as she stepped toward her. “Please do come in.”
Caroline felt the blood drain from her face. “Your message?” she croaked, her eyes going wide as she stared at the other woman.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Miss Palmer said with a hint of contrition on her face. Quick steps carried her closer and, before Caroline knew what was happening, the young woman pulled her into the room and closed the door. “I need to speak with you.”
Now, this was an unexpected development and Caroline did not know what to think when the other woman urged her to take a seat. Shrugging out of her cloak, Caroline watched Miss Palmer through slightly narrowed eyes, her pulse speeding up at the thought of what the other woman might have planned. If she, Caroline, were discovered here, she would be ruined!
“You need not be afraid,” Miss Palmer said as though she’d read Caroline’s thoughts. Brushing a thick, dark curl behind her ear, she moved to the other end of the settee and sat down, her deep brown eyes lingering on Caroline’s face. “I swear I have no intention of harming you in any way.” A warm smile danced across Miss Palmer’s soft features.
Caroline drew in a slow breath, carefully regarding the other woman. “Then why did you send a note in Pierce’s name?”
Miss Palmer’s smile deepened and open joy danced in her eyes. “You call him Pierce? That sounds most promising.”
Caroline flinched, and yet, oddly enough, in that moment, Miss Palmer reminded her of her cousin Rebecca.
“I had hoped that there was a deep affection between the two of you,” Miss Palmer whispered conspiratorially as though they’d been friends for years. “Pierce is utterly smitten with you, and I feared you might not reciprocate his feelings.”
Caroline’s heart stilled. “He is?” she whispered almost breathless.
Smiling, Miss Palmer nodded. “Did you not notice? He was beside himself when we came upon you and your companion in Hyde Park. I’ve never seen him so enraged.”
Caroline swallowed, remembering that day. “Well, he despises Lord Coleridge for a very specific reason.” She kept her answer short, her eyes lingering on the young woman seated beside her, wondering how well Miss Palmer truly knew Pierce.
The young woman nodded. “Because of poor Daphne.” The look in her eyes grew sad, and Caroline could see that the thought of the little girl’s sufferings truly touched her heart. There was something utterly genuine about Miss Palmer, and Caroline felt herself relax.
“Still,” the young woman continued, another delicate smile tugging on her lips, “his hatred of Lord Coleridge was not the only reason for his reaction. I hope you know that.” Her brows rose teasingly before a soft chuckle crossed her lips. “Do you love him?”
Caroline flinched in shock at such a direct question.
“Do not worry,” Miss Palmer chirped happily, “I asked him the very same thing.” Caroline held her breath. “And the way he refused to answer was very telling.” Miss Palmer’s grin widened. “As is yours.”
Caroline’s mouth went dry as she stared at the young woman.
“Well, to answer your question,” Miss Palmer continued undeterred. “I sent the note in his name because I feared that otherwise you might not come, and I do need your help.”
“My help?” Caroline croaked, wondering how many more surprises this evening had in store for her.
A wicked gleam came to Miss Palmer’s eyes. “To tell you the truth, I intend to sneak out of the house tonight and I want you to come with me.”
Utterly dumbfounded, Caroline stared at the young woman with those adventurous brown eyes. “Sneak out of the house?” she mumbled, wondering how much Miss Palmer truly knew about her. “To go where?”
“A masquerade,” the other woman answered without hesitation, her hands clapping together in excitement before the look on her face slowly dimmed and she
sighed. “I’m well aware that London society is not all that fond of me—apparently, I’m not the kind of woman they would welcome into their midst—and I must admit I’m growing tired of their pointed stares and hushed whispers.” She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “But I refuse to let their animosity dull my spirits.” She sat up even straighter, raised her chin and declared, “Tonight, I want to enjoy myself. I want to dance and laugh and be looked at without judgment, and I think a masquerade is the perfect place to do so.” Smiling, she leaned forward, her brown eyes seeking Caroline’s. “I thought you might feel the same.”
For a moment, Caroline could not form a coherent thought. Indeed, Miss Palmer was a highly unusual woman in every way, and yet, Caroline could not deny that she admired her strength, her daring as well as her honesty. “What if we’re discovered?” Caroline whispered as her blood began to hum in anticipation.
Miss Palmer shrugged. “What if we’re not?”
Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Caroline tried to keep the smile off her face, but couldn’t seem to manage it.
“I can see that you want to come,” the other woman observed joyfully before reaching out to grasp Caroline’s hands. “Please, do!”
“What about Pierce? Will he not realize that you’ve left?” Caroline asked, feeling her pulse speed up as she realized she was truly considering Miss Palmer’s request.
“Oh, he’s already at the masquerade,” Miss Palmer replied without a hint of concern.
Caroline stilled. “But…but then we’ll surely be discovered.”
Miss Palmer leaned forward, grinning. “Well, it is a masquerade.” Her eyes narrowed in thought, and yet, the teasing smile remained on her lips. “Still, are you not curious to see if he will recognize you?”
It was madness, to be sure, but Caroline’s heart longed for it. For a night of reprieve from the life she’d forced on herself. To be someone else. Someone she’d never allowed herself to be. To be free.
To meet Pierce with a mask of her own.
Her thoughts were drawn back to the dark alley where Pierce had first kissed her. In that moment with him, she’d felt liberated from the shackles of her life and the feeling had been exhilarating. She’d been daring and bold, and she’d loved every second of it.
But it had not been enough.
Miss Palmer nodded eagerly. “I think it’s about time the two of you spoke to each other.” Her grin widened. “I have the perfect gown for you. I swear it will not fail to catch his attention.”
Caroline’s breath shuddered past her lips at the thought of wearing anything but the high-collared, grey dresses she’d been hiding behind all her life. Her hand moved upward and tugged on the high collar around her neck, for it suddenly felt too tight, almost suffocating. She remembered the night Pierce had ripped her dress and then kissed the bare skin on her neck, demanding she never again wear such a high collar.
A smile teased her lips at the thought of what he might say seeing her in an altogether different gown. Would he truly recognize her? Or would she need to help him along?
“Will you come then?” Miss Palmer asked, correctly interpreting the expression on Caroline’s face.
Caroline nodded. “I cannot believe I will, but, yes. I’ll come with you.”
Surging to her feet, Miss Palmer clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is wonderful! And if we’re to be the best of friends, you must call me Charlaine.” She pulled Caroline off the settee and looped her arm through hers as she drew her toward the door. “Everything is prepared. We’ll change and then we’ll be off.”
Overwhelmed, Caroline allowed the young woman to guide her feet. “How did you know where to find me?” she asked belatedly, wondering what Pierce might have told Miss Palmer—Charlaine!—about her.
Charlaine laughed. “I enlisted Albert’s help,” she whispered, casting a watchful look around the hall as they proceeded toward the stairs. “He, too, wishes to see Pierce happy, and he is very fond of you as well, dear Caroline.”
Caroline couldn’t help but smile. Never would she have expected the turn this night had taken. And more were to come. She could only hope Pierce would be happy to see her.
She, at least, had missed him dearly these past few weeks.
And she couldn’t wait.
Not after what Charlaine had told her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
No Expectations
The moment Pierce handed Mr. Caswell the simple black mask, the other man stilled, an incredulous expression coming to his sharp features. “What is this?” he asked, reluctantly taking a hold of the item in question. His blue gaze narrowed before he turned to look out the carriage’s window. “Where are we going?”
Leaning back against his seat, Pierce chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m taking you to a masquerade.” He lifted his hands in appeasement as Mr. Caswell’s head whipped around to face him. “On your brother’s orders, I swear.”
Mr. Caswell’s jaw tensed. “I appreciate your efforts. However—”
“Why?” Pierce interrupted, curious to see in what ways Pembroke and his brother differed from one another, especially since they shared the same outward appearance.
Mr. Caswell frowned. “Why what?”
“Why did you come to England?”
The man’s jaw worked as he leaned back, distancing himself from the world around him. “I came to see my brother, to meet his wife, to wish them well.” By the time the last word had passed his lips, the man’s teeth were ground together so tightly that Pierce feared his jaw would snap in half.
Pierce sighed. “Pembroke told me what happened.”
Mr. Caswell’s eyes snapped up, a sense of betrayal in them. “He shouldn’t have,” he gritted out, then held out the mask to Pierce.
Shaking his head, Pierce refused to take it. “He’s a good friend, and he worries about you.”
“I know,” Mr. Caswell muttered, his posture tensing with each word spoken between them.
“He asked me to help,” Pierce admitted, certain that Mr. Caswell would appreciate his honesty, “because he feared seeing him with his wife would only cause you distress.”
Holding Pierce’s gaze, Mr. Caswell pressed his lips together before swallowing hard. “He’s right,” he muttered then, resignation coming to his voice before he brushed a hand over his eyes, his thumb and index finger pinching inward as he closed them. “I should return home,” he finally said, then his lids fluttered open once more and he looked at Pierce. “I apologize for—”
“There is no need,” Pierce assured him. “I understand the pain you must be going through and—”
“Do you?” Mr. Caswell snapped, then all but flinched at the sound of his own voice.
Pierce sighed, realizing that, of course, Mr. Caswell was right for although the thought of losing Caroline to another was crippling, he could not imagine the pain of knowing that it would be so. “Perhaps I do not,” he finally admitted. “However, I do understand the fear of rejection.”
Mr. Caswell held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. “I do hope she accepts you,” he said then, compassion in his voice, “and that she means it when she does.”
Pierce paused at the sight of the man’s turmoil and suddenly remembered how Charlaine had spoken to him about loss and the chances life offered. “How long has it been?”
“Almost two years.”
Still, the man’s anguish rang loud and clear in his voice, not lessened by the passing of time. “Has she married another?”
Mr. Caswell’s jaw tensed further. “No.”
“Do you want her back?”
The man flinched at the thought of seeing the woman who’d broken his heart returned to him, and Pierce could see that his heart and mind were at war about it. Clearly, he still longed for her, wishing that life had taken a different turn. Another part of him had to know that her betrayal was not something one ought to forgive.
“Then you need to let her go,” Pierce said gently.
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Mr. Caswell closed his eyes. “How?”
“One step at a time.” Lifting his own mask, Pierce put it on, his gaze on the man seated across from him. “One step at a time.”
Pembroke’s brother inhaled an agonizingly slow breath, and it was obvious that the effort to move on was exhausting. His eyes lingered on the simple black mask in his hands for a long moment. Then a muscle in his jaw twitched, and his hands rose to fasten the mask to his face.
“Tonight, you’re not you,” Pierce told him as the carriage drew to a halt outside the Whithertons’ townhouse. “Tonight, you’re not Nathanial Caswell.” They stepped from the carriage and proceeded up the few steps to the large entrance. “There are no expectations here tonight, no identities, either. Tonight, you can be whoever you choose to be. Say what you wish, do as you please, and forget about tomorrow. Perhaps in doing so you will remember the man you once were.”
Mr. Caswell drew back his shoulders, his hands tense at his sides, before he stepped across the threshold and into a world unlike his own.
Pierce remained at his side, ready to offer assistance or encouragement when needed, all the while thinking of Caroline and the future he would face if she refused him. Still, before thinking about her rejection, he first needed to contemplate addressing her.
Telling her how he felt.
What she meant to him.
And he would do so.
Tomorrow.
He needed to know.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Another World
Caroline could not help but think she was most indecently dressed. And indeed, by her standards, she was. Never before had she worn a gown that revealed as much skin as the one Charlaine had selected for her.
And it was a sparkling ruby red!
Staring at herself in the tall mirror, Caroline felt her breath lodge in her throat as her eyes swept over the smooth fabric, holding her body in a tight embrace. White gloves ran all the way up to her elbows as her gown possessed barely enough fabric for rather delicate-looking puff sleeves covering her shoulders. Her hair had been swept up on top of her head with only a few soft tendrils dancing down her temples, their tips tickling the bare skin on her neck. Her curls shone in a full, vibrant brown, appearing even darker with the tiny, white pearls woven into it.