London.
Most likely.
That was about all they knew, which—granted—wasn’t much. Unfortunately, each clue seemed to lead to a dead end which, in turn, explained Pembroke’s rather insufferable mood.
“I suggest you calm down,” Pierce said, raking a hand through his dark hair in annoyance, “for there is nothing to be done about it.” His gaze drifted unobtrusively across the ballroom to the two women eyeing them with interest while, of course, feigning disinterest. “Go and dance with the pretty girl you’ve been staring at for the better part of the evening.” Unfortunately, Pembroke proved to be equally inept at hiding his true intentions as were those two misses across from them.
“What girl?” the man beside him croaked.
Pierce grinned. “I’m not blind, nor am I a fool as I believe I’ve informed you already. She’s the one you were gawking at in Hyde Park the other day, isn’t she?”
Pembroke tensed. “I don’t gawk. I…I observe.”
A chuckle rumbled in Pierce’s throat at the absurdity of that statement. “If your eyes had opened any wider, I’m certain your eyeballs would have fallen out of their sockets.”
Gritting his teeth, Pembroke remained silent. His demeanor grew almost painfully tense when Coleridge asked the girl to dance. For a few moments, Pembroke continued to watch them before he excused himself and wandered closer to the dance floor, his eyes never leaving the fiery-haired woman who seemed to have caught his interest.
Oddly enough, Pierce himself found his attention return to the little, grey mouse the fiery siren had left behind. There was something…peculiar about her. Something that didn’t quite fit, like a puzzle with the pieces put together wrong, giving a contorted image of the item depicted.
With his thoughts occupied by either his concern for Daphne or his desire for retribution, Pierce rarely sought the company of the fairer sex, for the night Daphne had lost her family had changed everything for him. It had opened his eyes to the true character of his peers, men and women who cared for useless trappings and nothing else. In truth, the only reason he mingled in society at all was because he needed to uphold his reputation—as dark as it was. He could not risk for anyone to get suspicious and connect him to his nightly activities. Additionally, he could not deny that he felt a certain sense of satisfaction upon teasing the men he’d robbed.
Unfortunately, Kearsley had not yet made an appearance!
Still, tonight Pierce found his attention returning time and time again to the little, grey mouse standing by the refreshment table across the ballroom. Her colorless gown buttoned all the way to her chin, which looked downright uncomfortable and apparently was as she continued to tug on the collar as though it were a noose around her neck. Her presumably brown hair looked strangely dull, almost greyish and had been pulled into a tight chignon, giving her an oddly stern expression. And then there were the spectacles that rested upon her nose…
Angling his head, Pierce observed her more closely when her gaze suddenly moved and met his.
For a second, she seemed to freeze, her lashes fluttering as though to clear a speck of dust that had settled in her eye. Then her chin dropped a bare fraction, allowing her to peek over the rim of her thick spectacles.
Pierce paused as a triumphant smile claimed his features. How odd, indeed! Why on earth would she peek over her spectacles? Generally, they were used to aid one’s eyesight, were they not? And if so, why would one peek over them? One wouldn’t if, indeed, one needed them in order to see. However, why would anyone wear spectacles if they didn’t need them?
What a curious little mouse!
Apparently, she did not care for his interest in her for she lifted her chin in that haughty fashion women of station often employed and turned away, pretending to be observing the dancers. In truth, Pierce noticed her glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes.
His smile deepened, and he wondered what secrets hid behind that innocent-looking face.
So far, he’d never met a woman who’d purposefully taken steps to reduce her appeal. Was she not looking to snare a husband? Why would she wear these hideous spectacles if she didn’t need to? Again, his gaze wandered over her attire. Was there a reason for the way she dressed?
Intrigued, Pierce moved to lean against the marble column at his back, his gaze still trained on his grey mouse. However, she no longer shifted uncomfortably from