his hands, Pierce had begun to follow his little mouse. A part of him was worried that she’d place herself in danger again and leave the house in the middle of the night. After all, he was not the only dubious character to roam the streets of London at night. Still, another part of him simply wanted to know where she’d gone that night.
And why.
And what the money had been about.
After all, her father was a wealthy merchant, and Pierce had not heard talk of failed investments or the like. If his daughter desired something, it seemed there would be no sensible reason for him to deny her.
Frowning, Pierce remembered her odd style, her simple gowns and lack of jewelry. It would seem Miss Caroline Hawkins did not desire much. What need would she have for such a sum? Had it been her father’s money? But then why had she been carrying it about town in the middle of the night?
Nothing made sense, and Pierce could not deny that it riled him.
So he followed her, enjoying the few moments she would turn and glimpse him nearby, her blue eyes narrowing in confusion.
And perhaps a hint of distaste.
Pierce chuckled at the memory, knowing that she did not know it had been him that night in the hackney coach.
Dressed in her familiar grey frock, those hideous spectacles back on her face and her hair pulled back so tight it had to hurt, Miss Caroline Hawkins went about town, her maid in tow as she called upon various ladies.
Or as Pierce liked to call them, conniving harpies.
After speaking with his butler, Albert, Pierce learned that apparently his little mouse was part of some kind of embroidery circle, which met about three times a week at Lady Brockton’s townhouse. However, since she was wintering in the country, the remaining ladies now met at Lady Woodward’s home instead.
This news was rather disappointing as Pierce could not deny that he’d expected…more? At least something other than embroidery. However, when Albert let it drop that said circle generally lasted throughout the entire afternoon, Pierce knew that she was hiding something.
For although Caroline did attend, she always left after about an hour.
Following her, Pierce had seen her venture across town to a children’s home, where she always remained until shortly before darkness fell. Was this what she was trying to keep hidden? That she was helping out at a children’s home? Perhaps her father would not have allowed her?
Pierce smiled, knowing that her concern for the welfare of others pleased him and only served to stoke his curiosity.
After rocking Daphne back to sleep one night after another one of her nightmares, Pierce was stepping from the nursery when one of his young footmen came bounding up the stairs. His face was flushed, his hair disheveled and wet from the rain. “My lord!” he gasped, then drew in a deep breath, the pulse in his neck pounding.
Closing the door, Pierce put a finger to his lips, then hurried toward the young man. “Jacob, what’s the matter?”
Swallowing, the young man tried to breathe and speak at the same time, which resulted in a coughing fit. When he’d finally recovered sufficiently, his hands flew through the air in wild gestures accompanying his rushed words. “She left, my lord! She’s left the house.” He gulped down another lungful of air.
“When?” Pierce gritted out, cursing his little mouse for her foolish behavior. Why on earth would she leave the house in the middle of the night? Again!
“About an hour ago,” Jacob replied. “She sneaked out the servants’ entrance and then hurried down the street, turned a few corners and then hailed a hackney coach.”
Pierce scratched his chin in thought. Quite obviously, she didn’t want anyone knowing what she was about! “Where did she go?”
“A children’s home on the other side of town on—”
“I know where it is,” Pierce interrupted, already halfway down the stairs. “She was still there when you left?”
Jacob nodded, rushing to keep up. “Yes, my lord. I came as fast as I could.”
After thanking the young man and sending him off to find his bed, Pierce saddled Sport and was off immediately, hoping his little mouse would not leave before he got there.
*
“That is nonsense!” Mr. Wolsey snapped, his eyes bloodshot and his hair sticking up in all directions. “It’s merely a cold. There’s no need to waste the home’s tight finances on a doctor. It’s ludicrous!”
Caroline could have throttled the man! After all, the only reason he was still