Mrs. Colden, the cook, warmed them thoroughly and put eagerness back onto the girls’ faces. They spent the rest of the afternoon decorating not only the drawing room, but also the entrance hall, the salon and the nursery.
Later that night, Pierce even found a small branch decorated with a red ribbon set upon the desk in his study. Dear Daphne, she was always looking out for him in her own sweet, little way!
As the snow continued to fall outside his window, Pierce’s thoughts were drawn back to London, for this year, for the first time, he’d quit the city with regret in his heart. After all, his little mouse had remained, and he could not help but worry about what she would feel compelled to do next should an emergency arise. When it came to the children of the orphanage, it seemed her dedication knew no bounds.
By now, and with the help of his young footman, Jacob, Pierce had put most of the puzzle pieces together, finally able to understand why the woman sneaked around town in the middle of the night. To be on the safe side, he’d left Jacob behind, instructing the young man to look after her and interfere should the need arise.
Just in case.
After all, with Caroline Hawkins, one never knew what to expect.
The only thing that still did not make any sense was her odd sense of dress. Clearly, it was a disguise, a mask. She had no need for those spectacles and, yet, she wore them. Why? Whenever he’d observed her at a societal event, she’d kept to the corners, conversing animatedly with the harpies of the ton, all but shying away from the men. Did she not seek a husband as so many young women did, matrimony their only purpose in life?
The thought of suitors following her about, asking for a dance, trying to steal a kiss had him clench his teeth as a deep sense of apprehension settled in his bones.
Inhaling a deep breath, Pierce leaned back in his chair, his right hand running over his face to chase away the gloom that lingered at the thought of his little mouse pawed at by other men.
Sorry, fellas. The lady is mine.
His own words kept echoing in his head, and Pierce wondered what that meant. He clearly liked her, enjoyed her company. He’d also developed a certain amount of concern for her. However, did that mean he cared for her? Or was it simply the chase? The challenge she presented? Would she hold no more allure once he’d figured out the last piece of the puzzle that was Miss Caroline Hawkins?
All Pierce was certain off was that, for the first time since he could remember, he longed for the Season to begin. He longed to return to London. To see her again. To see those sharp blue eyes shoot daggers at him. To tease her mercilessly. To taste her lips again.
Pierce chuckled. She still did not know who he was, and he would seek to keep it that way for as long as possible. Still, he knew he would not be able to deny himself the joy of seeking her out at the next opportunity. Perhaps he could coax her out of her self-appointed shell. After all, the first time he’d addressed her at the Cavendish ball out on the terrace, she’d met his challenge with an unwavering gaze. She’d tried to evade him, but when he’d cornered her, she’d accepted his challenge and issued one of her own.
Don’t cross me, my lord. Believe me, you wouldn’t win.
Pierce smiled, the need to be off pulsing in his veins.
Soon, he told himself. Soon, he would see her again.
Chapter Fourteen
An Undeterrable Man
The moment Caroline looked up to find her cousin descending the stairs to the entrance hall of her father’s townhouse, her jaw dropped.
Dressed in a stunning emerald gown, her fiery hair arranged in gentle waves on top of her head, Rebecca glistened like a star in the night sky. Her cheeks shone rosy with excitement, the same that lingered in her dark gaze, a delicate contrast to her pale skin. Still, it was the unusually low neckline of Rebecca’s gown that made Caroline think that tonight’s ball held a deeper meaning for her adventurous cousin.
For days now, Caroline had suspected that Rebecca was up to something.
Oddly enough, her beloved cousin had sought out a jeweler to have a ring fashioned, a delicate golden band holding a good-sized emerald flanked by a slightly smaller diamond