by Wolf, Bree
“Someone saw you,” Pierce whispered and watched with satisfaction as Mr. Ruthledge nearly fainted at the shock. “Someone saw what you did.”
“No!” the man exclaimed, wild panic now in his eyes. “I did nothing. It was him. It was—” His lips clamped shut, and he covered his mouth with his hands for good measure, afraid the truth would fly from his lips.
Pierce felt every muscle in his body tense. “Who?” he snarled into Mr. Ruthledge’s face. “Who shot the doctor? Who raped his wife?”
Mr. Ruthledge blinked before his brows drew down, confusion showing in his gaze. “You…you don’t know?” He stared at Pierce. “You said…you said there’d been a witness.” His jaw hardened. “You’re trying to trick me!”
Straightening, Pierce inhaled a deep breath. “There was a witness,” he whispered, his voice soft. “A three-year-old girl. She was in the carriage with her parents when you attacked them.”
Mr. Ruthledge’s jaw dropped and his eyes filled with tears. Something resembling compassion sparked in his eyes, a vague memory of the man he’d once been. “I didn’t know,” he mumbled, his voice so low it was barely audible. Then he buried his face in his hands and wept. “I didn’t know.”
“She deserves justice for what she’s suffered,” Pierce said gently, afraid to push the man beyond his limits. “And the monster who stole her parents needs to be punished.”
Slumped in his chair, Mr. Ruthledge looked up at Pierce with a tear-stained face. “He is my cousin.”
Pierce sighed. “And you’re her last hope.”
*
Suppressing a yawn, Caroline sipped her tea after adding more sugar than she cared for. The previous night had exhausted her in many ways, making it hard for her to stay awake.
Her mother’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly from across the breakfast table, and Caroline quickly gave herself a painful pinch under the table to appear more awake. Then she smiled at her mother. “It is a beautiful day,” she exclaimed, adding a longing sigh for good measure. “I believe a stroll would be wonderful.”
After another second, her mother finally nodded, her gaze returning to her own teacup. “Indeed,” she agreed. “However, do remember to rest before the Hawthorne ball tonight.” Her gaze connected with Caroline’s father’s as he peeked over the rim of the paper he was reading before it returned to her. “Lord Coleridge is sure to attend, and I do believe you still owe him an answer.” Her mother’s brows rose, enforcing on Caroline the importance of giving the right answer.
Caroline swallowed, but held on to the soft smile she’d managed to force upon her lips. “Thank you for the reminder, Mother,” she said sweetly, then took another sip from her tea.
Again, her parents exchanged a meaningful look. “I do hope you will not keep the poor man waiting much longer,” her mother then remarked in a nonchalant tone as though she’d merely commented on the weather and not urged her daughter to make a life-altering decision.
Exhaustion and no small amount of annoyance washed over Caroline in that moment, and she finally found the courage to admit to herself that she was sick of the life forced on her. She was sick of the lies, the pretense, the strategies. She was sick of acting against her nature, of being someone she was not, of silencing herself at every turn.
She was sick of it all!
Now more than ever for the past night had shown her all that could be, all she was missing out on, all she wanted. Always had Caroline possessed a daring spirit, however, she’d never dared to use it for herself. For amusement’s sake.
For love.
In that moment, as Caroline sat at the breakfast table with her two parents, dressed in another mouse-grey dress, her spectacles upon her nose and her vision slightly blurred, she realized that she did not want to continue like this. That she could not continue like this without going mad.
Again, she recalled the previous night, the way her pulse had thudded in her veins as she and Charlaine had arrived at the ball. She remembered the dim lights, the vibrant colors, the sense of audacity that had lingered in the air. She remembered how Lord Coleridge—as she now knew—had all but forced her into a dance…and how Pierce had interfered, not even aware that it had been her at the time.
Indeed, he was a good man, a truly good man in every sense of the word. The thought made her smile for he was a thief and a highwayman as well. A true knight of the road.
It would seem the world was far from black and white, and Caroline no longer wanted to see only the small corner she’d been born into. No, she wanted more. She wanted to explore the world, make her own decisions and come to her own conclusions. After all, in a world where a highwayman was a good man and a lord was the devil, what else was possible? What else did she not know?
And she wanted Pierce.
A small sigh escaped her as memories resurfaced of how he’d kissed her the night before. At first, she’d thought him furious with her presence at the masquerade because he deemed her incapable of taking care of herself. That, of course, had riled her. However, as the evening had progressed, Caroline had more and more become aware of his lingering gaze as well as the longing behind it and she’d come to realize that his anger had stemmed from an altogether different emotion: jealousy.
Taking another sip from her tea lest she sigh again, Caroline did her best to hide her smile behind the teacup in her hands. Still, her heart thudded wildly in her chest and her lips began to tingle with the memory of his kisses.
Would he attend the Hawthorne ball tonight? Would he find a way to kiss her again? Caroline desperately wished it would be so. And still, she knew that it would never be enough…not until she finally stood up and told him and the rest of the world what she wanted.
And what she wanted was freedom.
The freedom to choose.
To choose the life she wished to live and the man she’d come to love.
And she did love him.
As incapable as Caroline had been to say the words the night before, they now seemed the only things on her mind. Still hidden behind her teacup, her lips moved and silently whispered those three little words she ought to have said to Pierce. Caroline could only hope it was not too late, that she could still say them and have them received with the same joy she had felt at hearing his declaration.
Well, there was only one way to find out. She needed to step out into the world as the woman she was and not the woman she pretended to be and declare herself. It was as simple as that, was it not?
With impatience suddenly pulsing in her veins, Caroline set down her teacup and lifted her head. Then she removed the spectacles from her nose and met her mother’s gaze. “I promise I’ll have an answer for Lord Coleridge tonight,” she declared, eagerness in her voice. “First, however, I do believe I need a new dress.”
Astonishment rested on her parents’ faces as they absorbed their daughter’s words. “That is marvelous, my dear,” her father beamed as he lowered his paper. “Truly marvelous.”
Her mother nodded eagerly, a large smile on her face. “Indeed, it is.” Pushing to her feet, she rounded the table and then grasped Caroline’s hands as she, too, rose from her chair. “I know just where to find the perfect dress for you.” Smiling, she brushed a curl behind Caroline’s ear. “You’ll look beautiful.”
Squeezing her mother’s hands, Caroline returned her mother’s smile and nodded, ignoring the small stab of guilt at deceiving her parents thus. However, it would be the last time, she promised herself. Of course, she would give Lord Coleridge an answer as she’d promised. It would not be the one he’d want to hear.
Chapter Forty-Three
A Butterfly
With Charlaine on his arm, Pierce walked into the Hawthorne townhouse. His mind was elsewhere, of course. He hoped that Caroline would attend tonight as well. He needed to see her.
He definitely did.
Or he feared he’d go mad.
“You seem distracted,” Charlaine commented with a knowing look in her brown eyes
, her gaze focused on him alone, ignoring the hushed words and pointed stares exchanged behind her back.
While some things could be hidden behind a mask, others simply stood out no matter what one did. It was unfair and cruel, but it was the way of the world. Men like Coleridge could conceal their true nature, evil and dark, behind smiles and good manners while women like Charlaine, good-hearted and genuine, had no way to be acknowledged for who they were, unable to hide their exotic appearances even if they should wish to try.
Clearly, Charlaine did not for she never used powder to hide the bronze glow of her skin or sought to cover up the unusual shape of her soulful eyes. She always walked with her head held high, and yet, every now and then, Pierce thought he saw exhaustion in her eyes as well as the desire to be accepted for who she was. Did Caroline feel the same way? He wondered, remembering her words from the night before. Was that why she’d reacted so harshly to his words of caution?
Of course, it was no stretch to imagine it to be so. After all, Caroline had been hiding her true self all her life. Such an effort had to have taken its toll.
The thought riled Pierce, and he vowed that, tonight, all that would change. Tonight, he would speak to her. He would tell her he loved her—not with a passion-crazed mind, but with a clear and level head. He would ask for her hand and they would both step into a future free of the restrictions of the past.
If she were to accept him, that was.
“Now, you look worried,” Charlaine observed as she held out a glass of lemonade to him. “I do believe it wise you keep a clear head tonight.”
Pierce frowned, taking a sip and trying to hide a grimace at the sweet taste. “What makes you say that?”
Her brown eyes lingered on his face. “I cannot help but wonder if…” She cocked her head thoughtfully before her lips curved into a knowing smile. “Will you finally ask her to marry you?”
Shaking his head, Pierce laughed, awed by her perceptiveness. “I assume you would not object to such an endeavor?”
Smiling at him, she squeezed his hand. “I want to see you happy,” Charlaine whispered, her eyes misting ever so slightly, “and she is perfect for you.”
“How would you know?” Pierce demanded, trying to ignore the somersault his heart did at hearing her observation. “You barely know her.”
“I’m a good judge of character, or have you forgotten that?” Sighing, she glanced over her shoulder to where Mr. Caswell stood all but glaring in their direction. Pierce had urged him to attend earlier in the week. He could not help but wonder why the man was, indeed, in attendance after the shock he’d received the previous night.
Pierce sighed as he took note of the tension hiding behind the soft smile lingering on Charlaine’s lips. “He looks furious,” he observed. “I assume you did not introduce yourself last night.”
Charlaine frowned at him. “Of course not, it was a masquerade.”
“And yet, he holds it against you.”
Her head bobbed up and down. “It would seem he does,” she stated matter-of-factly. Still, a second later, the seriousness vanished from her eyes and a large, dreamlike smile claimed her face.
Pierce frowned. “What, exactly, happened between you two?”
Turning back to look at him, Charlaine batted her eyelids innocently, her smile deepening.
Pierce scoffed. “Do I need to be worried?” Stepping closer, he held her gaze, a slightly teasing tone to his voice as he asked, “Do I need to call him out?”
Charlaine laughed, and her eyes glowed with utter exuberance. “You’re sweet to worry about me,” she told him, “but you need not. Mr. Caswell is a truly honorable man, and I assure you it took all of my ingenuity to breach those defenses of his and see him forget his troubled past.” She sighed. “If only for a moment.”
Pierce regarded her curiously. “I assume you have plans of your own for the evening as well as the weeks beyond tonight, am I right?” Charlaine put on an all too innocent smile that told Pierce all he needed to know. “He doesn’t know yet, does he?”
Charlaine laughed. “Oh, dear goodness, of course not. The poor man would no doubt have an apoplexy.”
“And yet, you’re undeterred,” Pierce chuckled, shaking his head at her.
Her gaze sobered as her brown eyes looked into his. “We must always fight for what we believe in,” she told him imploringly before her gaze drifted past him toward the entrance hall. “I do believe your own chance for happiness has just arrived.” An appreciative smile tickled her lips. “And it would seem she’s already made a decision of her own.”
With a quick squeeze of his hand, Charlaine darted away in pursuit of her own plans. Pierce hoped with all his heart that after all the losses she’d suffered, happiness would not make her chase it for too long.
Then he turned around…and his heart stilled.
Flanked by her parents, Caroline stood under the arched doorway leading into the ballroom. Her golden-brown hair had been swept up on top of her head, revealing her graceful neck. Pearls glistened in its dark curls, reminding Pierce of the night before. Her gown, however, shone in a soft pink, perfectly complementing the warm tones of her hair as well as the deep blue of her eyes. She looked radiant, breathtaking, magnificent…
…and yet, that which had caught Pierce’s attention, which he’d noticed first and foremost, which made his blood sing and his heart dance with joy, was the fact that she wore no spectacles.
Her blue eyes shone free and unencumbered, her gaze clear and focused and meeting his own in a way that Pierce thought he’d strayed into a dream. Was this truly happening?
Hushed whispers went through the crowd around him as more and more people noticed her, their eyes widening in surprise and confusion alike. He dimly heard whispered questions as people wondered who she was, finally concluding that it had to be Miss Caroline Hawkins.
Not because they’d recognized her, but simply because they’d recognized her parents at her side. Otherwise, no one would have known who she was. No one but him, and Pierce felt the pulsing need to right that wrong. No longer would he allow her to hide from the world, and the thought that she, too, had made that very decision on this very night meant that they were, indeed, perfect for each other. Did it not?
A deep breath shuddered past his lips as Pierce stared at her, still feeling as though he’d been caught in a dream, unable to move, barely aware of his surroundings. He no longer noticed the whispers around him or paid any attention to the rising music drifting over from the corner where the orchestra was playing. He barely took note of the crowd moving around him, pressing closer to see. He felt an arm bump against his own, heard a mumbled apology, but could not bring himself to turn his head.
All he saw was her.
*
Like a beehive, the voices of the assembled guests buzzed in Caroline’s ears. She felt their stares, their surprise, their shock like pinpricks on her skin and, for a moment, she wanted to bolt, wishing she hadn’t done this, wishing she could hide behind her large spectacles and her mouse-grey dresses and become invisible.
Like before.
And then her eyes found him.
Standing amongst the crowd, Pierce looked at her with such awe in his eyes that her throat closed up and her eyes filled with tears as she saw the reaction she’d been hoping for the night before.
He saw her. He truly saw her. He saw not only the gown and the hairdo and the missing spectacles. He saw her trembling nerves and her misting eyes. He saw the courage it had taken her to do this, and he saw the meaning this moment held for her.
Pierce saw all that and more. It shone in his dark gaze as he looked at her, his eyes holding hers as though something connected them, something that could never be broken, something she could no longer live without.
Oh, yes, she wanted him.
Him, and no other.
And then her gaze jerked sideways—why, she couldn’t say—and landed on a familiar face. A face that had given new meaning to the phrase
the devil incarnate.
With a sly smile, Coleridge moved closer to Pierce from behind, finding his way through the crowd, his cold green eyes focused like a predator circling its prey. He walked swiftly, and before Caroline could form a clear thought, he accidentally bumped into Pierce.
Caroline froze, aware that Pierce had not even taken note of the other man, his eyes still glowing as he looked at her.
And then Coleridge suddenly moved away, cutting his way through the crowd and toward the entrance, his cold green eyes rising to look at her. She saw his lips curve into an appreciative smile as his gaze swept over her changed appearance. Still, where Pierce’s look of awe had sent a warm tingle through her body, Coleridge’s chilled her to her bones.
“Ah, here comes Lord Coleridge,” her father exclaimed beside her, joy warming his voice, which sent a sickening feeling through Caroline’s stomach. “He looks most appreciative.”
Caroline tried to swallow the lump in her throat as her teeth ground together in anger.
“This is it,” her mother whispered from her other side, excitement lending her voice a youthful note. “This is it. Soon, you’ll be a viscountess. There’s no doubt about it. Mark my words.”
When Lord Coleridge eventually reached them, glancing behind himself for a quick moment as the crowd reluctantly began to disperse, still casting eager eyes at the new arrivals, he greeted them with manners that were all but flawless. His green eyes shone attentively, and his smile was dazzling…or would have been if it were not for the black soul lurking underneath. “You look quite changed tonight, Miss Hawkins,” he complimented her, his gaze raking over her form with obvious approval. “Stunning, to be precise.” He turned to look at her mother. “No doubt it was your patience and encouragement that sees her now blossomed from a caterpillar into a butterfly.”