masked man had said?
Again, Caroline felt her head spin as her eyes swept the large ballroom and disappointedly came up empty. He wasn’t here.
At least not yet.
Seeking to distract herself, Caroline decided to refocus her attention on her cousin. Rebecca had been acting very strangely and—to be precise—rather scandalously these past few weeks, which had resulted in a week-long banishment from London. What, exactly, had led to that Caroline did not know. But it was no doubt Lord Coleridge’s interest and the promise of a proposal that had recalled Rebecca from exile.
Curiously enough, Lord Coleridge was nowhere to be seen.
Rebecca, however, was far from bothered by that fact, her eyes following a particular young American lord around the room. His eyes, too, seemed strangely glued to her that Caroline could not help but smile. “It seems you’ve made your choice.”
Rebecca’s head snapped around to look at her cousin. “What?”
Glancing over her cousin’s shoulder, Caroline once again spotted the handsome young lord. “He’s been following us ever since we arrived.” Most likely, that was even true! Not that Caroline would have noticed. However, it was a well-informed guess. “Are you telling me that doesn’t mean anything?”
Fighting the grin that threatened to reveal all she felt, Rebecca shrugged.
“You look happy,” Caroline observed, a tinge of envy settling in her heart, but she quickly pushed it away. Rebecca deserved happiness; if only her father would not interfere, she thought, glancing at her parents not far off. “Has he stated his intentions?” she whispered carefully.
Rebecca sighed. “He has not.”
“But you’re hoping he will?” Caroline inquired, wondering about the depth of her cousin’s feelings for the young lord. How could one truly be certain what lived in one’s heart?
A deep flush came to Rebecca’s cheeks and the glow that lit up her eyes said more than a thousand words. Unfortunately, their intimate conversation was interrupted by Caroline’s parents, robbing her of the chance to probe further into her cousin’s life.
Their faces looked taut, their eyes wide with concern. Caroline felt a deep chill grip her bones. “Mother, Father, is something wrong? You look distressed.” She grasped her mother’s arm, fearing the woman might faint so hard was she swaying on her feet.
“It is quite horrifying, indeed,” her father exclaimed as he wrung his hands, his gaze slowly shifting to Rebecca, suggesting that whatever news he was about to share with them somehow affected her the most.
Rebecca’s face paled.
“I just heard that Lord Coleridge was set upon on his way to the ball.”
Her cousin’s jaw dropped. “What?” Shock marked her features, and yet, a hint of relief sparked in her eyes. Of course, she was not overly concerned for Lord Coleridge and had probably feared worse news than what they’d just now received.
“Do not worry, my dear,” Caroline’s father implored as he grasped his niece’s hands, misinterpreting her reaction. “Fortunately, he suffered no lasting ill effects. However, he won’t be attending the ball tonight.”
“How awful!” Caroline exclaimed, thinking that at least one of them ought to show a certain measure of shock at such news, and Rebecca seemed currently incapable of portraying any other emotion but relief. “What on earth happened?”
Glancing at her, her father shrugged. “That is still unclear. Apparently, his carriage was attacked by highwaymen. They struck him down and stole his belongings.”
Caroline’s heart ceased all movement as she stared at her father. “Highwaymen?” she croaked, praying that no one would notice how close she was to losing her mind. “More than one?” Her hands began to tremble and she clamped them together as her own encounter with a masked stranger rose before her inner eye. Could it have been him?
Her gaze once more swept the crowd, and once more she came up empty. Lord Markham was not in attendance. Was he delayed for a perfectly understandable reason? Or was he absent because he’d set out to once more rob one of his peers? If that was indeed the case, Caroline could only hope that Lord Coleridge had not recognized him.
The thought struck her as odd for how could she feel protective toward…toward…
“That I cannot say for certain,” her father droned on, “but surely it would take more than one common man to subdue a lord like Viscount Coleridge.”
More than a common man? Caroline mused. Indeed, the masked stranger had always seemed somehow…larger than life, had he not? But were he and Lord Markham the same man?
A thousand questions surged through Caroline’s mind, but she clamped her mouth shut, knowing that anything more would