How to Turn a Frog into a Prince (Happy Ever Regency Book 5)

Home > Romance > How to Turn a Frog into a Prince (Happy Ever Regency Book 5) > Page 4
How to Turn a Frog into a Prince (Happy Ever Regency Book 5) Page 4

by Bree Wolf


  Befriending not only Albert, but also Mrs. Colden, the cook, Jacob, the footman, as well as Miss Glass, Susan’s mother, Charlaine had learned that Pierce blamed a man by the name of Lord Coleridge for the murder of Daphne’s parents.

  Only he could not prove it.

  Not yet.

  Had this been the man? Lord Coleridge?

  Pierce gritted his teeth, but finally answered her. “Yes.”

  “Why was she with him?” Charlaine asked, by now certain that the woman on Lord Coleridge’s arm had been Caroline, the one who had stolen Pierce’s heart. “Does she know?”

  His jaw shifted forward and then back. Then he nodded.

  Charlaine sighed. “She looked sad,” she observed, aware that in his anger Pierce had failed to notice. “She looked frightened.” Her arm slipped back through his, and he finally looked at her.

  His gaze was still distant, but Charlaine thought she saw a spark of recognition as though he were replaying the moment in his mind and finally saw something that had eluded him before. “I’ll take you home,” he muttered then, guiding her back the way they’d come. “There’s something…I need to look into.”

  Charlaine chuckled. “You should tell her you love her,” she told him with a smile. “You’ll feel better, I promise.”

  Pierce squeezed her hand, and a wistful look came to his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told her with an affectionate smile.

  “As am I,” Charlaine replied as her heart recovered a little more from the loss it had so recently suffered. It still hurt, but it could heal.

  If she let it.

  As they returned home, Albert welcomed them with his usual stiffness. “My lord. Miss Palmer.” He gave them a courteous bow, awaiting orders. Pierce, however, immediately excused himself and disappeared in his study.

  “My dearest Albert,” Charlaine addressed the man, ignoring the way his cheeks grew pale. “You should’ve come with us. A bit of sunshine would do you well.” She smiled up at him. “I admit I was thoroughly tempted to take off my shoes and feel the fresh grass under my feet.”

  The man swallowed hard.

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  “No,” was all he said.

  “Not once?”

  “Not once,” he confirmed.

  “Why not?” Charlaine pressed, wondering what it would take to get him to loosen his posture.

  “It’s not proper,” Albert remarked, then paled, his eyes going wide. “I didn’t mean to suggest that—”

  “I’m not offended, Albert,” Charlaine assured him with an easy smile. “I know your heart is in the right place and I would never believe that you’re thinking ill of me.” She chuckled. “No matter how much I offend you with my…oddities.”

  Although Albert refrained from saying another word, Charlaine did not miss the amused twinkle that came to his eyes before he bowed to her and then turned and left.

  “What a dear man,” Charlaine mumbled as she climbed the stairs to the upper floor and proceeded down the corridor to see the girls. She found them sitting over their letters, their little heads bent and deep frowns on their faces as Miss Glass showed them how to hold the quill and move it across the parchment.

  “Is this right?” Daphne asked, holding up her rendition of a P.

  Miss Glass smiled. “Very good, Daphne. You’re halfway to writing your name.”

  Daphne beamed, then glanced over at Susan. “It’s not fair that your name only has five letters.” She shook her head, looking appalled. “And two are even the same.”

  Susan grinned mischievously.

  “Challenges are good,” Charlaine remarked as she stepped into the room. “For otherwise, we would never know what we’re truly capable of.”

  Thinking about that for a moment, Daphne then sat back down and returned her concentration to the parchment before her.

  “Well said,” Miss Glass replied as she came to join Charlaine by the window. “Are you all right? You look thoughtful?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she cast a careful glance over the two girls, lost in their task.

  Miss Glass—or Emma as Charlaine had come to call her—was a slender, delicate-looking, young woman with pale blond hair, but brilliantly blue eyes that shone like sapphires when she laughed. She was rather shy, her voice seldom louder than that of a small bird. Still, her dedication to the girls spoke volumes about her character, even if her voice did not. Charlaine adored her. “Pierce and I saw someone at the park,” she whispered to Emma. “I suspect the woman was Caroline.”

  Emma nodded, knowingly.

  “And the man was Lord Coleridge.”

  All color drained from Emma’s face.

  “He is the one people have been whispering about, is he not?” Charlaine asked, remembering the calculated coldness in the man’s gaze.

  Again, Emma nodded. Then her eyes moved to Daphne, who was still working on writing her name, her little tongue stuck out in concentration. “He came to the house the other night.”

  Charlaine’s hand grasped Emma’s without thought. “He did?”

  Emma swallowed hard. “It was not long before you arrived.” A shiver gripped her. “I didn’t see him, but I heard his voice.” She shook herself. “There’s something truly evil about him. It was the night Daphne ran away. She had to have heard him as well and recognized his voice.”

  Charlaine stared at the other woman.

  “Fortunately, she didn’t get far,” Emma continued in a hushed voice, remembered horror clinging to every word she spoke. “She ran into Miss Hawkins—Caroline—just outside the door.”

  A small smile curled up Charlaine’s lips despite herself. “Miss Hawkins was outside the door? At night?”

  Emma blushed. “I cannot say why she was there, but…”

  “But?” Charlaine pressed, curious to learn more about Pierce and Caroline.

  “Lord Markham and Miss Hawkins seem to know each other well,” Emma continued, a hint of reluctance on her face, “even though they never seem to socialize.”

  Charlaine chuckled. “How do they know each other?”

  Emma shrugged.

  “Pierce is very tight-lipped about her,” Charlaine mused, “which usually means there’s an interesting story there.” She met Emma’s gaze. “He clearly cares about her.” Emma nodded. “I wonder why he does not court her. Ask for her hand. He seems head over heels in love with her.”

  “That, I cannot say.”

  Charlaine sighed, remembering the way Caroline had been unable to meet Pierce’s gaze when they had come upon her and Lord Coleridge in the park. “Pierce told me of a friend’s wedding celebration we are to attend,” she told Emma. “I wonder if Miss Hawkins will be in attendance as well. I admit I’m curious to see the two of them interact.”

  Perhaps all Pierce needed in order to reach for what he wanted was a little encouragement, and who better to provide it than an old friend, who knew only too well what lived in his heart.

  Perhaps there was a way for her to repay the kindness he had bestowed upon her.

  Perhaps his friend’s wedding celebration was the perfect opportunity.

  Chapter Five

  Alone Among Many

  Pembroke Hall was swarming with people and, aside from his brother and sister-in-law, Nathanial did not know a single one. Many eyed him with interest, however, it was Zach and Becca who drew most people’s attention. Their unconventional elopement to Gretna Green had had the gossips of London whispering for weeks.

  At least, that was what Nathanial had heard.

  The sun shone warmly upon the garden festivities, and Nathanial wondered at the almost idyllic scene before his eyes. With his wife on his arm, Zach moved through the crowd, accepting well-wishes here and there. The smile upon his face was genuine, and every time he turned his head to look at Becca, it deepened in a way that made Nathanial’s heart ache.

  It was not that he begrudged his brother the happiness he had found, but the stark contrast between their li
ves only served to pick at the wound that simply would not heal.

  Sighing, Nathanial straightened, determined not to dwell on these gloomy thoughts when he found his brother greeting a petite, dark-haired woman and a tall, bearded man of the same coloring. The man seemed like a giant next to her, a scar snaking down the right side of his face, giving him a menacing expression. His grim exterior, however, was offset by the small babe sleeping peacefully in his arms.

  “Nathanial.” Zach waved him over before he met his wife’s gaze and, again, something unspoken passed between them. Then Becca stepped back, her head leaning closer to her cousin, Miss Caroline Hawkins, whom Nathanial had been introduced to earlier in the day. Whispered words flew back and forth, and meaningful glances were exchanged.

  Willing a smile upon his face, Nathanial moved toward the small group, determined not to ruin his brother’s wedding celebration with his dark mood.

  “Nathanial, this is our cousin, Eugenie,” Zach introduced the petite woman before he turned to the hulking giant, “her husband, Adrian, as well as their daughter, Emmeline.”

  Although Becca had informed him that their cousin would be in attendance, Nathanial was overcome by the notion of meeting someone who was family. All his life, it had only ever been him and Zach as well as their parents. Never had there been cousins or aunts and uncles or anyone beyond their small circle.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Nathanial told her, giving a courteous bow as he was suddenly overcome by the deep desire to have her look at him favorably.

  “Nathanial, I’m so happy to meet you,” Eugenie exclaimed, her soft, gray eyes looking into his with such kindness that Nathanial felt his heart reach out to her. “Zach has been telling us so much about you that I feel as though I’ve known you forever.”

  Nathanial’s heart warmed at her words and, all of a sudden, prolonging his visit to England didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. She looks like an angel.”

  The hulking giant laughed, a low rumble in his throat. “Don’t be fooled by that innocent smile upon her face.” He gazed down lovingly at his sleeping child. “She’s a fierce one, stubborn and loud and—”

  “Just like her father,” Eugenie remarked with a teasing grin as she met her husband’s gaze. “Just like her father.”

  Envy once more reared its ugly head as Nathanial noted the same connection between Eugenie and her husband that also existed between Zach and Becca. The kind that withstood time. The kind that could bring down empires. The kind that warmed the heart in the deep of winter. Why was it that all the world found love with such ease while it was denied him?

  While Nathanial enjoyed conversing with his newfound family, he somehow always felt like an outsider. Merely a guest, but not a part of the whole. Was it simply that they all had known each other for a while and he had only met them recently? Whatever the reason, this sense of not belonging increased with each passing minute.

  Constantly teetering on the brink of indecision slowly drove Nathanial mad. Always had he had a plan. Always had he known what he wanted. Always had the path ahead been clear.

  Now, even the next step seemed shrouded in fog.

  What was his course? What was he to do? Stay in England? Or return to Boston? Here, the sight of others in love would be a constant reminder of what he had lost. Back home, the reminder of the past was of a different kind, but it was also there.

  Ought he to run to the ends of the earth in order to escape it? And if he did, would it help? Or was he simply fooling himself?

  What was he to do?

  Chapter Six

  A Sunny Day

  Charlaine was curious to see Caroline again, and as Fate would have it, the moment Pierce led her onto the terrace of Pembroke Hall, she spotted the woman in question standing off to the side within a group of friends or family.

  Dressed in mousy gray, with thick spectacles upon her nose as before, she seemed inconspicuous. Pierce’s gaze, however, found her without delay, and Charlaine could not help but smile, for the moment their eyes met, it seemed like lightning struck.

  Indeed, there was something tangible between them, something that reminded Charlaine of that moment at the marketplace long ago when Amancia and Peter had first met.

  Caroline’s face paled as she beheld them. Then she quickly mumbled an excuse to her companions and disappeared inside. It seemed for all intents and purposes that she was fleeing the scene, pain etched into her eyes.

  “You should go after her,” Charlaine told Pierce as he stood beside her like a stone column, his dark gaze staring after Caroline. “You clearly want to. Don’t let her get away.”

  His chest rose and fell with a slow, deep breath before he followed after her.

  Returning her gaze to the guests around her, Charlaine belatedly realized that by sending Pierce away, she now found herself alone in the arena facing hungry lions. Frowned expressions greeted her, disapproval and distaste sparking here and there as judgmental eyes swept over her from head to toe.

  Of course, Charlaine could have changed her appearance in an effort to hide the differences that made her stand out. That revealed her as an outsider. Emma had kindly offered her help. However, Charlaine had refused.

  After all, she was proud of who she was, and she would not dishonor herself or her family by hiding a life she had loved. No, she was who she was, and those who disliked her were simply not worth her time.

  With her head held high, Charlaine made her way through the crowd until she came to stand on the edge of the terrace, overlooking the green lawns. Children raced up and down a small slope, their faces aglow with joy and effort. One little girl waved to her, and Charlaine waved back, cherishing the way children saw the world.

  With kindness and curiosity.

  Indeed, it was a beautiful day, and Charlaine determinedly pushed away all dark thoughts and decided to enjoy it. Her skin warmed under the sun’s rays, and she felt its effect deep within her soul. The lawn beckoned to her to lose her shoes, but she refrained, not wishing to embarrass Pierce. And besides, she had promised Albert.

  Thoughts of Pierce’s ancient butler brought a deep smile to her face for he reminded her of her own father, always trying to teach, to impart wisdom, to counsel and protect. Pierce had told her that Albert had lost his own daughter a few years back and still grieved her loss.

  Perhaps it was Fate that they had come into each other’s lives.

  After a small eternity, Charlaine glimpsed Caroline return to the terrace, her face taut and her eyes filled with sorrow. With a look over her shoulder as though afraid that someone might be following her, she approached an elderly couple—presumably her parents.

  Sighing, Charlaine marched across the terrace and neared the French doors the second Pierce stepped through, his gaze tense as it swept over the assembled guests, clearly looking for someone.

  For Caroline.

  Apparently, whatever had happened had not gone well. “I assume you didn’t tell her you loved her,” Charlaine remarked, unable to hide that hint of reproach that came to her voice. “Otherwise, she would not be so furious.” She tugged on his arm, urging him to look at her. “What did you say to her?”

  Swallowing, Pierce finally met her gaze. “I will not discuss this with you,” he growled, frustration written all over his face.

  “Well, you should discuss it with her,” Charlaine pointed out, pained to see two people apart who should be together. She reached for his hand, and his eyes returned to hers. “Sometimes loss cannot be remedied,” she whispered, feeling a catch in her throat as she remembered the moment Peter had closed his eyes for the last time. “Sometimes it is final, and there is nothing we can do about it.” Her eyes darted to Caroline. “This is not one of those times, and you’d do well to remember it.”

  Pierce’s gaze softened, and she could see that her words had reached him. “You’re right,” he whispered, gently brushing a tear from her cheek she had not e
ven been aware of. “I will speak to her again.” A smile tugged on his lips. “Thank you for wearing shoes today.”

  Charlaine laughed, loving him for always knowing what to say. “Albert convinced me.”

  “Did he now?” Pierce asked, incredulity in his gaze. “How on earth did he manage that?”

  Charlaine could not help but grin as she recalled the mischievous twinkle in Albert’s gaze when he had spoken to her earlier that day. “He said it would hurt less if I ever needed to step on someone’s toes, and it would be more effective.” She had read concern on Albert’s face and wondered how much he knew about how she had been received by the ton. She loved him for not urging her to change, but to stand tall and proud.

  “Whose toes do you intend to step on?”

  Charlaine shrugged. “I have no immediate plans. But a woman always needs to be prepared.” Her eyes swept over the assembled guests, unwilling to allow anyone to intimidate her. Eyes met hers here and there, but Charlaine did not drop her gaze.

  In her mind’s eye, she could see Albert nodding to her encouragingly.

  “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves,” Lord Pembroke greeted them with a wide smile as he strode to their side.

  Pierce nodded. “It is a splendid celebration, however, I cannot help but be surprised by it.” He regarded his friend with teasing interest. “I thought you detested the ton.”

  Lord Pembroke laughed. He was a young man with laughing eyes and an honest countenance. Charlaine liked him instantly. “I cannot say my opinion has changed in that regard. Now, however, I have a wife to consider and she has a cousin very dear to her.” When he said cousin, Charlaine thought she heard a deeper meaning behind that one word and couldn’t help but wonder if Lord Pembroke suspected that there was something between Pierce and his wife’s cousin, Caroline.

  Then he cleared his throat and his gaze moved to her. “Would you grant me a moment alone with my friend?”

 

‹ Prev