How to Steal a Thief's Heart - Bree Wolf Page 0,10

noblest titles in England. His fortune he had used to restore Pembroke Hall to its former glory after the late earl—his uncle—had squandered away the family’s wealth. And on top of that, the man was exceedingly good-looking!

A fact that—as it seemed—had not escaped Rebecca’s attention, either.

Caroline grinned at her cousin. “Before long, all the matrons will be pushing their daughters into his path, fighting for his attention.”

Rebecca chuckled, though it did sound a bit strained. “Perhaps he ought to consider returning to America. He might be safer there.”

Caroline noted the way her cousin’s gaze darkened at the thought. “Perhaps he has a reason for staying.”

Rebecca sighed as she continued to look at the man across the room. “Perhaps.” A deep longing rested in that one word, and Caroline could not help but wonder what it would feel like to be enamored with a gentleman. After all, from her perspective, a severe case had all the markings of a dreadful sickness!

Loss of cognitive abilities.

Stuttering and unintelligible speech.

Sweaty palms and flushed cheeks.

Looking across the crowded ballroom, Caroline tried to glance over the rim of her spectacles in order to see better. Indeed, Lord Pembroke was still staring at Rebecca—at least their sickness seemed to be mutual!—while the dark-haired man beside him wore a smug smile on his face, uttering the occasional remark that never failed to earn him an annoyed look from Lord Pembroke.

“Ah, Miss Hawkins, there you are.”

Caroline blinked, noting the way her cousin all but flinched when Lord Coleridge suddenly came upon them. It would seem neither one of them had noticed Rebecca’s boring suitor sneak up on them.

“Will you grant me the pleasure of the next dance?”

The look on Rebecca’s face spoke not of pleasure but, instead, of pure torture as she agreed and took his proffered arm, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

Caroline sighed, wishing there was something she could do. However, her father was adamant in his desire to see her wed to the dull viscount, threatening to disown Rebecca should she not do as he demanded. Still, Caroline could not shake the feeling that her cousin was merely playing along while following a plan of her own.

A plan that perhaps involved Lord Pembroke!

Curiously, Caroline peeked over the rim of her spectacles, satisfied to see the young American’s face darken almost thunderously as he stared at Rebecca walking onto the dance floor on Lord Coleridge’s arm. Perhaps there was hope yet!

And then Caroline’s gaze caught on another’s.

It happened quite by accident.

She couldn’t even say how.

However, one moment she’d been observing Lord Pembroke’s fascinating reaction and in the next, Caroline found herself looking into a pair of decidedly amused brown eyes—as far as she could tell from this distance away!

Blinking, Caroline straightened and her gaze cleared, noting the rather smug smile that claimed the dark-haired gentleman’s face as he looked at her with rather daring perusal. There was something knowing in his gaze, as though he’d just discovered something utterly fascinating and now prided himself on said discovery.

Annoyed, Caroline lifted her chin and shifted on her feet, turning more directly toward the dancers in the process. Still, out of the corners of her eyes, she noted that his smile deepened, amusement coming to his face as though her reaction pleased him.

How annoying!

Indeed, men were nothing but a nuisance and not worth her time. Once more feeling vindicated to have made the right choice, Caroline wondered what to do next. How to procure the necessary funds to restore the building housing the children’s home. The allowance she possessed would not be enough. It had barely been enough to bribe Mr. Wolsey. Should she approach another lady in her needlepoint circle so soon? Or perhaps fabricate a little white lie and obtain the money from her father?

Sighing, Caroline tugged on her tight collar. If only she knew what to do!

Chapter Four

A Curious Observation

“Stop huffing and puffing like a dragon,” Pierce chided his new friend. “You should not have addressed Cavendish directly, and you know it.” The two men had known each other barely a few weeks and, yet, Pierce could not deny that Pembroke had proven to be a decent man throughout that time, enough to warrant Pierce’s trust and goodwill.

As well as his support.

Apparently, a rather notorious English peer had swindled Pembroke’s family out of an heirloom and then gotten himself killed in a duel before anyone—namely Lord Pembroke—could persuade him to reveal what he had done with said heirloom. At present, it was somewhere in

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