her heart jumped into her throat as shock slammed into her.
For it was none other than Lord Coleridge!
And the look on his face told her that Daphne’s nightmare had not been a mere nightmare, after all. Oh God, what had he done?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Answers Given & Received
Running his fingers through his hair, Pierce stopped pacing and braced his hands against the mantel, slightly hanging his head and inhaling a deep breath. He well remembered the viscount’s anger at having his prize snatched away from under his fingers. Still, what Pierce remembered even better was the cold detachment in the man’s eyes.
Something was deeply wrong with how Coleridge saw the world around him as well as those in it. He was a calculating man, who knew how to play a role to perfection. The anger Pierce had seen in him tonight had been a first. Never before had he observed even the slightest sign of a temper in the otherwise dull man. Pierce had always known that that boring façade was just that, a façade. After all, the more than proper gentleman enjoyed his gambling, enjoyed trips to the more scandalous areas of Town, enjoyed doing as he pleased when no one was looking. Pierce had observed so more than once. And he had never seen the man lose control.
That, in and of itself, was worrisome.
From experience, Pierce knew that those who easily lost their tempers were nowhere near as dangerous as those who knew well how to contain it.
How to fool others.
How to pretend to be someone they were not.
Pierce knew he’d do well to keep an eye on Coleridge. Who knew what the man was capable of? Would he try to harm Pembroke and Miss Rebecca Hawkins out of spite? Would he—?
“My lord!”
Rapid footsteps echoed down the stairs, and Pierce spun around at the sound of alarm in the voice drifting to his ears. Something was wrong, and the little hairs on the back of his neck rose, sending a gripping cold down his back.
In the next moment, Miss Glass burst into the room, her face ash-white and her eyes wide as she rushed toward him. “Daphne’s gone! She’s not in her bed! She’s gone!”
Pierce felt the blood drain from his face as he grabbed her by the shoulders, trying his best to remain calm. “Did you look through her chamber? And Susan’s? Perhaps she didn’t want to be alone.” With every fiber of his body, Pierce wanted to believe that there was a reasonable explanation, that Daphne was not truly gone, that she was somewhere in the house, hiding. Still, deep down, he knew it to be a false hope.
Miss Glass shook her head strongly, sending her blond curls flying. “No, I looked everywhere. She’s gone! Where could she be?” Tears formed in her pale eyes, and he could see his own fear reflected in her eyes.
Pierce swallowed hard, then lifted his chin and forced his panic back down. “Wake Albert,” he told her as he strode toward the foyer, Miss Glass on his heels. “Have him wake the whole house. Look everywhere. I will head out and—”
His voice broke off and his feet jarred to a halt when his eyes fell on none other than his little, grey mouse, standing in the middle of his foyer, a large bundle clutched in her arms. Her eyes were wide and her face looked pale, not from cold, but fear instead.
“Caroline,” Pierce whispered, for a moment unable to do anything else but stare at her. Then his gaze wandered to the small head lying in the crook of her arm and he immediately shot forward, relieved beyond measure to find Daphne sleeping peacefully in her arms.
“She talked about her papa,” his little mouse whispered, her blue eyes, unobstructed by those hideous spectacles, lingering on his face, a question burning there that needed no words.
Pierce nodded, then reached out to retrieve his child. “Yes, she’s mine,” he told her, knowing that despite everything he’d thought and said to the contrary before, it was the truth. Daphne was his daughter, and he loved her beyond reason.
Caroline swallowed, her jaw tensing as she glanced behind him. “I see,” was all she said. Her eyes, however, spoke volumes as they swept over Miss Glass.
Pierce exhaled a slow breath. Then he took a step forward, his eyes not veering from hers. “No, you don’t,” he told her, hoping she would hear the sincerity in his voice. He glanced down at his sleeping child and his hold