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A Jewel for the Taking: Thieves of Desire Book 2

Page 2

by St. Clair, Ellie


  He shook his head to clear it as he stepped forward, lowering the tray between the baron and the woman. He knew he should keep his gaze demure, lowered, but he couldn’t help but lift his head to see what this woman might look like from the front. Would she be anything like the woman who insisted on haunting his dreams night after night?

  As her fingers curled around the glass and she lifted it to her lips, he looked up, meeting her eyes — and stilled in shock when their gazes collided, as the glass tumbled from her fingers, shattering all over the floor.

  * * *

  Juliet froze. She felt the smooth glass slipping out of her hand, heard it shatter across the marble at her feet, allowed the drops of liquid to splash across her dress, likely ruining it.

  But she couldn’t look away as she gazed into the eyes of the man she’d never thought she would see again.

  No, make that the man she vowed to never see again. The man who had taken everything from her. The man who had abandoned her. The man who had broken her heart.

  She likely would have remained there, a statue, had Lord Wilington not started bellowing at her.

  “Juliet! Look what you’ve done. And you,” he rounded his red, sputtering gaze onto Xander, who was the first to recover as he tore his eyes away from her, “what were you thinking?”

  “My apologies, my lord,” Xander said, dipping his head in a manner very un-like the Xander that Juliet had known. Or the man she had thought she had known. “I should have caught it.”

  “Yes, you should have. Now, clean this up.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  He turned around and began walking away, as Juliet finally looked down at herself. She needed to clean up, yes, but more importantly, she needed a moment to compose herself, to recover from the shock of seeing him. Here.

  “Excuse me, my lord, but I should retire for a moment.”

  She turned before the baron could say anything, practically running from the ballroom despite the many eyes that turned to look at her. Eyes that she was already used to. She knew how uncommon it was for a woman without title or noble blood besides the distant relatives she claimed, to be considered as a potential bride for a man like the baron. But her story was that her father was a wealthy merchant, which Lord Wilington seemed fine with. He cared much more for money than title. His wife had died years ago and he had no care for propriety. He liked to have a woman — a much younger woman — on his arm, to keep up appearances and to show off his vast collection of jewels, if nothing else. He enjoyed being envied, being feared.

  Which was exactly what Juliet was hoping for. She needed more time here. More time to finish her task, to find what she was looking for. The last thing she needed was complications.

  Complications like Xander Murphy.

  She hurried down the hall, around the corner to the stairway, where one of the maids eyed her with contempt. She understood. She was living the life of a woman of loose morals — even if she hadn’t actually taken part in the acts that granted one such a title.

  Not only that, but she was here — for tonight at least — in the house of a baron, being paraded around as his woman. He didn’t care much of what anyone thought, but told her that he preferred to have her close by.

  Even if it was only for her to show off his collection of jewels and take care of him, like a nanny would a young child.

  Just as Juliet rounded the corner and opened up the door to her room, a strong hand grabbed her arm, and she whirled around, ready to fight or to scream, she wasn’t sure which.

  But instead, she found her heart beating wildly for an altogether different reason as she was trapped within arms that were both familiar and all too welcome when she should have been cursing them.

  “Xander,” she practically whispered, unable to say his name in fill volume. “What are you doing?”

  “What am I doing?” he hissed, and it was then she saw the storm in his eyes, those eyes that were such a unique shade of blue they were near to purple and far too beautiful for a man. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  Not thinking about her actions, she took his hand in hers and tugged him into her bedroom, looking furtively up and down the hall before she closed the door behind him.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning up my glass?” she asked, cloaking her distress and placing her hands on her hips as she turned to look at him. He was dressed in the baron’s livery, although she most certainly would have remembered had she seen him around the house before.

  “Damien’s taking care of it,” he muttered.

  “Damien’s here too?” Juliet asked in surprise before she narrowed her eyes at Xander. “What are you two up to?”

  “What are we up to?” he asked incredulously. “Don’t tell me that you are actually here because you’re sleeping with that awful, decrepit old man.”

  Juliet placed her hands on her hips, shuddering at the thought of it. “If I was — which I’m not — but even if I was, what business is it of yours?”

  “I—” Xander opened his mouth to answer her, but shut it firmly, turning around as he ran a hand through his dark hair — which was far too long and was now beginning to curl around the ends — as he sighed. “I suppose it is none of my business. And yet,” he turned to face her now, his mouth twisted, “I hate to think of you resorting to such a thing, Juliet.”

  “Oh, do you?” she asked, the familiar ache of pain turned anger beginning to coil in her belly. “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you left me. Alone. Told that you wanted nothing more to do with me. That I should find my own way in life. Left, without anyone to care for me or see after me, recovering from a wound that was inflicted during one of your schemes.”

  And with a heart that was so broken she had thought that she would never recover.

  “Exactly,” Xander said, holding out a hand as if that was to explain everything, “you were hurt. And I didn’t want you ever to be so hurt again.”

  “Very well,” Juliet said, her shoulders dropping as the fight left her, and suddenly she was just tired. Tired and ready to move on from this. Ready to never see him again. She could only pray that he had been hired for this one night alone, for she didn’t think she could continue to see him day in and day out. “You left. I’ve moved on. Our lives have gone their separate ways. I just need to know something, Xander.”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you just here for this party?”

  Xander scratched his head in that way of his that she had always found most endearing, and she steeled her resolve against him.

  “I’m here for… awhile. Until we find what we are looking for.”

  “Which is?”

  “Ah… I’m not sure I can say.”

  “Of course you can’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to shield herself from him as dread began to grow deep in her belly. “I must change and return to the party,” she said, even as she wondered where Annabelle was. “You should go. You might be missed.”

  “Juliet,” he said in supplication, and she lifted her brows, inviting him to say something, anything. To apologize for the past, to tell her that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. To plead for her forgiveness and explain that he was here because he had to find her again and make everything right. Because he still loved her.

  And when he said all of that, she would laugh. Because she would never forgive him. Never. He had hurt her far too greatly.

  Her imaginings were just that, however — imaginings. It was as she thought. He had nothing to say. No explanation. No excuse. She walked across the room and wrenched the door open, holding it for him as a sign that it was time for him to leave. He lowered his head in resignation as he walked toward it, pausing in the frame, inches away from her. “I’m sorry,” he said, and then continued down the hall.

  Juliet shut the door behind him, leaning her head against it.

  She was sorry too. For she knew that as much as she told herself otherwise,
she had never gotten over him. And she knew that, despite her best intentions, she never would.

  Chapter 2

  “He is what?” Annabelle stared at Juliet, her mouth open wide in astonishment. Juliet’s gratefulness for the woman grew. The two of them had met when they began working at a jeweller’s shop together, where their unlikely partnership began.

  Of course, they had different intentions for seeking such employ, and when Annabelle had caught Juliet stealing from the man they worked for, Juliet was certain that she would be discovered and taken before the magistrate.

  She had been shocked when Annabelle had instead offered to help her.

  One of the best jewellers Juliet knew, Annabelle was integral to this plan and had joined Juliet in the role of her lady’s maid, although Juliet would never actually ask Annabelle to take on any required duties besides fastening a few buttons when needed. Besides, Annabelle had far more important things to do.

  “Xander is here. At Lochrich. Working as a footman.”

  “I can hardly believe it,” Annabelle said, and neither could Juliet, even though she had been there, seen him, and spoken to him.

  She sighed as she looked around them, astonished as always at the tranquility they found themselves in even through such a ploy. While Juliet had a room in the house, for matters of importance the two of them preferred to walk outside, where they could get as far from prying eyes and ears as possible. They were currently on the outskirts of the grounds, the hour long before Lord Wilington’s rising time.

  Annabelle’s normally calm, angelic face took on an expression that could only be described as vengeful. “I know I’ve never actually met him, yet I cannot help but hate him for you.”

  Juliet turned her head and smiled at Annabelle as they walked along the hedgerow. She plucked a blue berry off the blackthorn before tossing it into the air. The weather was beginning to turn from a somewhat cool spring to a warmer summer and Juliet appreciated the sun streaming down onto her face.

  “I love you for your defense of me, you know that. But I can take care of myself — and I can certainly manage Xander Murphy.”

  When Annabelle and Juliet had met five years ago, Juliet was still recently injured, broken-hearted, and completely alone. Annabelle had seen her at her worst, but it seemed something within her had compelled her to reach out to Juliet, providing her with a friendship that Juliet didn’t think she actually deserved — especially once Annabelle found out who she truly was.

  “You likely will come to meet him shortly, now that he is working in the household,” Juliet considered. “Apparently he isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “What do you suppose his aim is?”

  “Oh, I’m sure it is very similar to what you and I are doing,” Juliet said, raising an eyebrow. “Trying to steal Lord Wilington’s jewel collection. Xander would never stoop to a position such as footman unless there was something else to gain from it. He may be from the bowels of St. Giles, but there his family is royalty.”

  “Such a plot would make sense,” Annabelle said, before looking over to Juliet with her voluminous blue eyes. “Are you sure about this, Juliet? Can you go through with what we have planned, knowing that he is here, that you will have to see him rather often, that you likely even have the same aim that he does?”

  “Of course!” Juliet exclaimed, holding her chin high even as she realized the veracity of Annabelle’s words. For the truth was, as much as she told herself she had overcome her feelings for Xander, she would never truly be free of him.

  Annabelle seemed to understand this far better than Juliet did herself, for she placed a hand gently on her arm. “It’s all right if you can’t, Juliet. I know how much you loved him. You thought you were to be married and he left you as though what was between you didn’t mean anything. Told you that it was all part of some plan.”

  “You don’t have to be quite so honest,” Juliet murmured, the words hard to hear even though she was the one who had imparted the truth of the story to Annabelle. But Annabelle was as straightforward as anyone Juliet had ever met, which was something she had always respected about her, and Juliet appreciated the reminder, especially before she had to see Xander again.

  “It’s better to hear it from me than to have to face it all over again with him,” Annabelle said, to which Juliet nodded.

  “This is true. I know. And to be honest with you, Annabelle, there is too much between the two of us for me to ever be ambivalent toward him. But — I can do this. I have to do this. And now I have additional motivation, for I must prove that I can do this even with Xander attempting to take it all away from me. For once we are finished with this, we will be able to support ourselves for the rest of our lives. Imagine, Annabelle, not having to worry about whether or not we marry. Not having to work for men who make our lives miserable. Having the freedom to do as we choose, when we choose. To travel where we wish.”

  She turned to Annabelle, who was now wearing a dreamy smile to match Juliet’s own wide grin.

  “Can you see it?”

  “I can,” Annabelle said, before her smile slid away and she dipped her head. “I just hope I can do a good enough job on my end.”

  Juliet stepped toward Annabelle and placed a hand on each of her shoulders, looking her directly in the eye.

  “You are the best jeweller I’ve ever met,” she said fiercely, needing Annabelle to understand the truth of her words. “If you were a man, you would have the finest of shops that the wealthiest of people from all of England and even the Continent would come to buy from. Never doubt yourself, because I certainly do not.”

  Annabelle’s lips curved slightly, and Juliet wasn’t sure whether she was pleased or laughing at Juliet’s enthusiasm. “Thank you, Juliet.”

  “You’re welcome,” Juliet said resolutely. “Speaking of which, how is the bracelet coming along?”

  “Brilliantly,” Annabelle said, her eyes lighting up now as she spoke of her true passion. “The paste diamonds catch the light just as the true ones do. I should have it ready in a day or so.”

  “Wonderful.” Juliet beamed. “Remind me to ask Lord Wilington if I can wear it again.”

  Originally their plan had been for Annabelle to recreate new jewellery from what the baron gave Juliet as gifts, which they would then sell with, hopefully, far less suspicion. They would continue the scheme until Juliet would be forced to give the baron an answer as to whether or not she would marry him, at which point she would disappear.

  The baron, however, was smarter than they had given him credit for. One evening in London shortly after their courtship began, following a well-planned introduction in which Juliet had conveniently encountered the baron in the lobby of the theatre, he had informed her that he would most appreciate seeing his jewels adorn her body, but they would be on loan. She would have to return them at the end of each evening before they bid one another farewell.

  It was then she and Annabelle had concocted a scheme in which Annabelle would create replicas of each piece of jewellery that Juliet was given for the evening. Annabelle would meet her — at the opera, the theatre, whatever party Juliet found herself at — and she would do her best to make a quick sketch before recreating the piece as fast as she could. Juliet then just had to hope she would be given the same jewels again at another date — only at that point in time she would be prepared to return the replica and keep the original.

  When the invitation to attend the house party had arisen, with it came an opportunity better than any they could have imagined. For here, somewhere on the grounds, were all the jewels held together. If they could find them, then this could be over before Juliet had to do any more groveling or allow the baron’s hands to wander over her. She had managed to keep him at arm’s length thus far, but she could tell that he was growing impatient.

  In the meantime, this also meant that, quite fortunately, there were far more opportunities for her to be gifted jewels, even if it was just for a dinner or an afternoon
affair. Juliet and Annabelle were finding their small treasure of jewellery beginning to expand, as the baron’s collection grew to include nearly as many forgeries as legitimate pieces. Juliet was just beginning to worry that sooner or later they were going to be found out.

  “Is everything all right?” Annabelle asked as though reading her thoughts, and Juliet nodded smartly. Annabelle had enough to worry about with recreating the jewels. Juliet would take care of the rest. Especially if that rest included a certain tall, handsome thief with too much charm for his own good.

  * * *

  Xander and Damien stood to the side of the garden, ready to provide any service necessary as they watched the guests milling about during the outdoor breakfast.

  “Did you find anything last night?” Xander asked, to which Damien shook his head. While Xander had been busy trying to determine just what Juliet was doing at Wilington’s Lochrich Estate — and to keep his wits about him while doing so — Damien had been busy searching the corridors behind the house.

  They hadn’t been at Lochrich long when they had quickly realized, from years of experience, that the house was not all it seemed. The width of the rooms were too short and they had deduced that there must be secret passageways hidden behind the walls. They had discovered an entrance through the baron’s study, which had been the most likely place, for the door was always locked.

  Fortunately, due to Wilington’s love of spirits and the butler’s list of tasks, he had provided Xander with a key, and the duty of keeping the sideboard well stocked.

  From that entry point, however, they were disappointed. For while the passageway took them from one room to the next, most of the doorways were locked. Locks were not usually a problem for Xander, as he could pick the average one in seconds, but these were not average locks. He had written Arie, requesting him to send special tools from London, and could only hope they would arrive at the village’s post office quickly. The irregularity of their design only added to the intrigue of Wilington’s collection.

 

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