Behold the Thief (Rich Man Poor Man Book 4)
Page 19
Lily took the pouch, knowing from the size and feel of it that her own brooch lay inside—the brooch her father had commissioned to honor her birth. The brooch that he might have hoped would build a bridge between his daughter and the woman he had loved.
Was she ready for this? Was she willing?
Lily watched fear bloom in her mother’s eye, and for the first time she felt an urge to know the woman.
With trembling fingers she drew open the pouch and removed the brooch. It shown in her hand, glittering with promise. Could she do this?
The small pin on the back of the brooch pricked her palm as if nudging her to put it in its place.
And when she did, her mother drew her into a crushing embrace.
“I have so much to make up for, Lily. And this will be a start.”
She thrust a small invitation into Lily’s hand, gave her father a kiss on the cheek, and moved to take her place in the line.
Between greetings Lily ventured a peek at the card and gasped.
“Jack!”
He turned at her shocked whisper.
“Jack!”
“What, my love?”
Slowly she held the invitation up so he could read it.
“We have an audience with the Queen!”
Lily’s heart pumped wildly. Nothing would legitimize her efforts in Whitechapel more than having the queen’s approval. And her mother had arranged it. Lily stood in stunned silence, contemplating this unexpected gift.
All around her she saw people chatting amiably with her mother and grandfather. Just as Lily began to compose herself, to recover from the shock of receiving an invitation from the queen herself, a nasty, clipped voice rose above the others.
“I suppose I must,” the person said.
Lily heard the voice and recognized it immediately. She looked to the side and caught the eye of the woman who had spoken, watching as her pursed lips spread into a less than genuine smile.
Lady Rallings swept in and positioned herself directly in front of Lily.
“Ah, there you are, my dear. How lovely to see you.”
They were the right words, but couched in a bruising tone.
“Lady Rallings.” Lily found it difficult to do anything more than merely greet the woman who had brutally insulted her the night of Jack’s auction.
The buxom woman promptly eyed the card in Lily’s hand, clearly recognizing the royal insignia. In a flash her face transformed, giving her the look of a cat about to snatch the canary from its cage.
“You simply must come for tea, my dear. Shall we say, tomorrow?”
Lily saw her eagerness to be the first to entertain the Duke of Marlborough’s newfound granddaughter. Especially one who held in her hand the coveted invitation to an audience with the queen.
Lily smiled to soften her words. “I shouldn’t wish to bring unpleasantness into your drawing room, Lady Rallings. So thank you, but no, I believe I shall be otherwise occupied tomorrow.”
The woman leaned closer. “Now girl, I thought we could put that trifling bother behind us.”
Trifling bother? She’d banished Lily in front of half the ton and she called it a trifling bother? And had she really just addressed Lily as girl? That alone was reprehensible.
“I am a forgiving person, Lady Rallings, and I shall always make myself available to those whose welcome is genuine. Which clearly yours is not.”
Lady Rallings thrust her fan open and fanned furiously. “Well, I never—”
Lily was thinking madly how she could dismiss the woman without embarrassing the dear men who stood on either side of her when she heard Jack quietly snigger. She looked up quickly to catch him smiling, even though her eyes beckoned him to help.
“You’re managing just fine on your own…girl.”
In the same moment, her grandfather turned toward them. “Ah, now we dance. Lady Rallings? May I have the dubious pleasure?”
Without awaiting her response, the Duke of Marlborough swept Lady Rallings into a waltz, faster than he ought, and twirled just often enough to have the scion of Society stumbling about like an ingénue who’d failed to pay attention to her dancing tutor.
Lily could not contain her laugh. Her grandfather was a wicked, wicked man, and in a most unexpected burst, her heart turned toward him with love.
“I don’t believe this,” Lily whispered to Jack as he, too, swept her into the waltz. “What a different reception I’m getting compared to the night of your auction.”
Jack smiled and held her scandalously close. “Society is no different than any other predator,” he whispered. “They sense vulnerability when staring down a single adversary. But tonight, the army opposing them was too large and too powerful for them to bare their teeth.”
He nodded toward the dancing crowd and she turned her head in time to see Lady Rallings swatting her grandfather with her fan as she made her escape. The Duke of Marlborough merely stood where he’d planted his feet, hands clasped behind his back, a victorious smile spreading across his face.
“He’s one of Her Majesty’s most trusted advisors, you know.”
Lily took in a sharp breath. No, she hadn’t known. But she was not surprised. “I need air, Jack. Now!” She turned and all but fled, only allowing Jack to steer her by the elbow to the nearest door.
Just beyond the glass-paned doors they came upon Matthew Cleary and the dowager countess who stood near a large potted pear tree.
“What a glorious night, daughter. Don’t you agree?”
Lily caught the blush on her mother’s face and realized the cause. Matthew was standing far too close for casual conversation.
“I do. Mother.”
It moved the countess visibly to hear her daughter address her in that way.
“Oh, Lily, can you ever forgive me for leaving you alone?”
Lily smiled as her heart opened further still. “I was never alone, Mother.” She looked up at Matthew. “Never.”
Her mother looked into Matthew’s eyes. “How can I ever thank you for taking care of my daughter?” Her voice was soft, her words clearly coming from her own heart.
“The pleasure was mine,” he said in a voice breaking with emotion. “Just as Lily could have been mine.”
“Yes,” Lily’s mother agreed. “She should have been yours.”
Lily felt the tears in her throat as she watched the long overdue reunion unfold. Her mother the Countess gazed up at Matthew, and his eyes were fixed on her, making it a simple thing for Jack and Lily to slip away into the garden.
All the turmoil of recent days had focused her hopes on an outcome that would resolve Jack’s business aspirations. But the evening had turned into so much more. For the first time in her life, Lily watched family draw around her, felt family bolstering her, felt family loving her simply for who she was.
What would her future look like if the dowager Duchess of Camden hadn’t scolded her that first day? What if she’d foolishly bumbled on, hiding herself in her costumes—one day as Bonnie, the next as Calista—instead of coming to know who she truly was. She needed to thank Jack’s godmother, to let her know how grateful she was for the life she would have at Jack’s side. Simply as Lily.
She turned to Jack. “There’s something I need to do.”
Jack grimaced. “Don’t tell me. Bonnie needs to make a run to Whitechapel.”
Lily lifted her hand to caress his cheek. From today forward she had no need of disguise. Bonnie would now lie forgotten in the bottom of her trunk, along with Mrs. Downey and Calista Cavendish.
“No, my darling. I shall never again be anyone other than Lily.”
He drew her close, and she rested her cheek in the curve of his chest that had come to feel like home.
“Your Lily,” she added.
“Yes. My Lily. Granddaughter of a duke, daughter of a countess, on her way to meet with the Queen of England.”
She swatted him on the arm. “You forgot the most important part.”
Jack
pushed her slightly away and looked deeply into her eyes. “What part is that?”
Lily reached to cup his face in her hands. “Lily. Wife of Jack, the greatest treasure at Broadmoore’s.”
She felt his chest expand as if he were about to speak, and gently drew his face to hers to steal his words with her kiss.
“What a little thief you are,” he said when at last she let him speak.
Lily’s smile faded as she struggled to understand his meaning. She leaned back to study his face.
“What exactly did you mean by that?”
“Only the truth, dearest. I’m afraid you’ve stolen my poor replica of a heart and replaced it with the genuine article.”
That brought a smile as she indulged herself in another kiss.
“I promise to always keep it safe, my love,” Lily whispered.
Jack touched his forehead with hers, blocking out the night and the stars and the world beyond.
“Then go ahead,” he said softly. “Steal me, sweet thief.”
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About Laura Landon
Laura Landon enjoyed ten years as a high school teacher and nine years making sundaes and malts in her very own ice cream shop, but once she penned her first novel, she closed up shop to spend every free minute writing. Now she enjoys creating her very own heroes and heroines, and making sure they find their happily ever after.
A vital member of her rural community, Laura directed the town’s Quasquicentennial, organized funding for an exercise center for the town, and serves on the hospital board.
Laura lives in the Midwest, surrounded by her family and friends. She has written thirty Victorian historicals, eighteen of which have been published by Prairie Muse Publishing and are selling worldwide in English, one in Japanese, and several in German. Two are Scottish historicals.
Always beautifully set and with a mysterious twist or bit of suspense, Laura’s books average a million pages a month read by her loyal readers.
LAURA LANDON IS A PRAIRIE MUSE PLATINUM
KINDLE PRESS AND AMAZON MONTLAKE AUTHOR
WWW.LAURALANDON.COM
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See all of Laura’s books on Amazon.com
COMPANION BOOKS (series)
by Laura Landon
THE BROTHERHOOD
When Love is Enough | Broken Promise
RANSOMED JEWELS
Ransomed Jewels | Jaded Moon
Dark Ruby | Deception in Emeralds
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Cast in Shadows | Cast in Ruin
Cast in Ice | Cast in Scandal
THE TRAITOR’S CLUB
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RICH MAN POOR MAN
Beware the Rich Man
Bewitched by the Poor Man
Betrayed by the Beggar Man
Behold the Thief
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BEHOLD THE THIEF
Copyright © 2019 by Laura Landon
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may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
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Prairie Muse Publishing
Lincoln, Nebraska 68520
www.lauralandon.com