When a Rogue Falls
Page 11
Liam let his arm fall, but Bathsheba didn’t step away. If anything she pressed closer, her palm on his chest, over his heart. “You’re a fine one to complain, Daniel Crawford,” she told her brother. “Not saying a word about Mrs. Brown until you were betrothed to her!” She looked up at Liam. “He’s marrying a widow from Greenwich. He told me she hired him to rebind her library—”
“What? No, she did!” protested Crawford.
“Just this morning he confided that he’s marrying her. He won’t need me to look after him anymore, though goodness knows, I hope Mrs. Brown understands what she’s getting into with him—” She broke off and shook her head, looking stern.
Liam had to bite back a laugh at the expression on the other man’s face as his sister dressed him down. “Felicitations, Crawford.”
Daniel was no fool; he knew when he was routed. His posture eased, but his frown lingered. “I suppose you’ve accepted him, Bathsheba?”
“I didn’t have a chance, before you burst in without invitation,” she said. She turned to Liam. “Yes, Mr. MacGregor, I accept your offer of marriage.” As if it were a business proposal they had negotiated.
“I’m delighted to hear it, Miss Crawford,” he replied politely, and then he kissed her, not caring what Crawford thought. Dimly he heard the sound of the door, and when he finally raised his head to smile into Bathsheba’s flushed, glowing face, they were alone. “This is not a business arrangement,” he told her.
“No?” She beamed at him. “What sort is it?”
“Obviously marital; possibly including children, who, I expect, will require your keen oversight if they take after me. But primarily . . .” He slid one hand around her nape as she gave a little laugh. “Primarily it’s one of love and passion.”
“That is the only sort of arrangement I want,” she whispered, and he kissed her again to seal the bargain. Not once, but several times.
About the Author
Caroline Linden was born a reader, not a writer. She earned a math degree from Harvard University and wrote computer software before turning to writing fiction. Since then the Boston Red Sox have won the World Series four times, which is not related but still worth mentioning. Her books have won the NEC Reader’s Choice Award, the Daphne du Maurier Award, the NJRW Golden Leaf Award, and RWA’s RITA Award, and have been translated into seventeen languages.
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Join her newsletter at carolinelinden.com to get advance previews of new books and a free short story exclusively for members.
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Website: www.carolinelinden.com
Also By Caroline Linden
~THE WAGERS OF SIN~
MY ONCE AND FUTURE DUKE
AN EARL LIKE YOU
WHEN THE MARQUESS WAS MINE
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~THE SCANDAL SERIES~
LOVE AND OTHER SCANDALS
IT TAKES A SCANDAL
ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND SCANDAL (NOVELLA)
LOVE IN THE TIME OF SCANDAL
A STUDY IN SCANDAL (NOVELLA)
SIX DEGREES OF SCANDAL
THE SECRET OF MY SEDUCTION (NOVELLA)
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~THE TRUTH ABOUT THE DUKE~
I LOVE THE EARL (NOVELLA)
ONE NIGHT IN LONDON
BLAME IT ON BATH
THE WAY TO A DUKE’S HEART
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~THE REECE TRILOGY~
WHAT A GENTLEMAN WANTS
WHAT A ROGUE DESIRES
A RAKE’S GUIDE TO SEDUCTION
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~OTHER NOVELS~
WHAT A WOMAN NEEDS
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~ANTHOLOGIES~
WHEN I MET MY DUCHESS (NOVELLA) FEATURED IN
AT THE DUKE’S WEDDING
WILL YOU BE MY WI-FI? (NOVELLA) FEATURED IN
AT THE BILLIONAIRE’S WEDDING
A FASHIONABLE AFFAIR (NOVELLA) FEATURED IN DRESSED TO KISS
MAP OF A LADY’S HEART (NOVELLA) FEATURED IN
AT THE CHRISTMAS WEDDING
SCANDALOUS LIAISONS (NOVELLA COLLECTION)
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~SHORT STORIES~
WRITTEN IN MY HEART
LIKE NONE OTHER
Stealing the Rogue's Heart
USA Today Bestselling Author Erica Monroe
Preface
WHEN AN UNDERWORLD PRINCESS…
Beautiful, innocent Mina Mason has led a sheltered life as sister to London’s most notorious crime lord. Her family’s wealth and expectations keep her in a gilded cage, never able to act on her true desires. Like kissing—and far more scandalous behavior—Charlie Thatcher, her childhood best friend. As a member of a rival gang, Charlie is distinctly off-limits.
FALLS FOR THE WRONG MAN…
Charlie Thatcher has known since he was a boy where his loyalties should lie: with the Chapman Street Thieves, who saved him from a brutal death in the dark alleys of the Ratcliffe rookery. As a bartender for the Three Boars public house, he protects his fellow brothers with his mind and his fists. But when one of those members threatens Mina’s safety, Charlie’s primal, protective instincts are triggered—and his defense of her puts them both in danger.
PASSION MAY BE THEIR DOWNFALL.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
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STEALING THE ROGUE’S HEART
Copyright © 2017 by Erica Monroe
Excerpt from A Dangerous Invitation copyright 2013 by Erica Monroe
Cover design by Teresa Spreckelmeyer/The Midnight Muse
Cover photo copyright © by Hot Damn Stock
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Quillfire Publishing
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All rights reserved. The author has provided this book for personal use only. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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For information, address Erica Monroe at ericamonroe.com.
To Gaylin
For being there always, offering your unwavering support. Love you, my twin.
I swear all the creepy questions I’ve asked you are for book research.
(Except maybe that one about the teeth…just kidding!)
Glossary
Bedlam = slang for Bethlehem Hospital, an insane asylum for the poor. Also used as a
general term for “madness.”
Blackguard = a despicable man with no honor
Blighter = contemptible person
Blue ruin = gin
Blunt = slang term for money
Bounder = contemptible person
Chit = a young girl
Colt-bowler = a raw or inexperienced man
Cove = a thief
Cub = a young thief
Devil/devilish = used for general emphasis
Dimber = pretty
Diver = a pickpocket
Dolly shop = pawn shop
Figger = a little boy put in a window to hand out goods to a diver
Filch = to steal
Foxed = drunk
Go to the devil = go to hell
Hog-grubber = a miserly, sneaky fellow
Loblolley boy = a surgeon
Mantua-maker = dressmaker
Merry-begotten = a child born out of wedlock
Met, the = short for the Metropolitan Police Force
Modiste = dressmaker
Mill = a boxing match
Old Toast = a brisk old man
Peelers = slang for the Metropolitan Police Force, started by Robert Peel
Rag and bones shop = store for secondhand clothing
Ragged school = charity schools set up in the rookeries by parishes
Six and tips = a drink of whisky mixed with small beer
Toff = a rich person, aristocrat
Wipe = silk handkerchief
/> Chapter 1
Ratcliffe Rookery, London, England
1833
Mina Mason perched on a barstool in the Three Boars public house. Every Friday night for the past four years, she’d sat on this seat, her slipper-clad feet barely reaching the bottom rung. For Mina, this stool—a dilapidated oak with three legs that had long ago seen better days—was more welcoming than any of the plush, absurdly expensive armchairs in her brother’s sprawling townhouse. Here, deep in the heart of the Ratcliffe rookery, she wasn’t a princess locked in a tower.
She was simply Mina, a woman with her own desires and life.
And so every week, for three hours, Mina would come here and escape from her sheltered existence. She’d pretend she was like everyone else here, even if one of Joaquin’s men sat across the room, watching her every move. His gang, the Kings, were such a constant presence in her life that most of the time she ignored them. It was easier than arguing with her brothers.
She darted a glance toward Joaquin’s man, Isaac, in the back of the room. He’d been her guard for the last year, though his presence was largely unnecessary. The guard before him had insisted on sitting next to her. Isaac, however, agreed she didn’t need such close observance.
She liked Isaac for that reason.
She’d never run into trouble here. While the Three Boars was considered a meeting house of the rival Chapman Street Gang, she didn’t have anything to do with her brother’s organization. Surely, there’d be no reason for the men to think she was a threat. According to them, she was a mere chit who did not need to know the business of important men.
But she did understand enough of the world for a slow smile to form on her lips when a strumpet sidled up to Isaac, whispering something in his ear. In a flash, Isaac pulled the strumpet onto his knee, where she balanced with practiced ease. Mina’s smile turned into a full-fledged grin.
That was the beauty of Isaac—he was easily distracted.
Maybe she’d get some time away from Joaquin’s control, after all.
“Evening, Mina.” Coming to her side of the counter, Jane Putnam greeted her with a smile. “You want something to eat?”
“No, but thank you.” Mina returned Jane’s smile.
The petite barmaid was one of the few true friends she had. Most people viewed Mina as an opportunity to curry favor with either one of her brothers: Joaquin managed several gaming hells and Cyrus was a renowned pugilist. But Jane didn’t care about that. Even after she’d broken up with Cyrus, she’d kept in contact with Mina.
Jane had said no one could pick their family. Mina shouldn’t be held accountable for the sins of her brother. If only Jane believed that about herself—an air of sadness clung to her since her brother had been imprisoned in Newgate. He’d been caught trying to break into a house by a Metropolitan Police officer.
“Have you heard from Penn recently?” Mina asked.
“Went to see him last week.” Jane turned around, pouring an ale for another customer. She slid the tankard to him across the bar and then returned her attention to their conversation. “Nothing much ever changes. I suppose that’s good? Zacharias keeps telling me to have patience. Says that when the time is right, Penn will be freed.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mina reached for Jane’s hand, squeezing it. “I know how hard this has been for you both.”
“Another day in Ratcliffe.” Jane sighed, her eyes narrowing as another customer waved her down. “I wish I had more time to stay and talk, but the drink orders are never-ending tonight. I’ll send Charlie over.”
Mina tried to keep the excitement out of her voice as she thanked Jane. Though it was well-known she’d been friends with Charlie Thatcher since they were children, she didn’t want anyone to know how much she truly cared for him.
For the next few minutes, she watched the crowd. She recognized a few of Charlie’s friends, but mostly the gang was unknown to her. Over in the corner of the room were Kate and Daniel O’Reilly, laughing as Jane stopped by with their plates of mutton. Mina knew them by reputation only. Kate had been one of Chapman’s best fences before marrying O’Reilly, and she was good friends with Jane.
“Minnie!” Charlie called, hurrying over to the bar. He slid behind the counter, smiling at her and making her stomach flip precariously.
He’d changed so much over the years, transforming from a lanky boy to a tall Corinthian, all lean muscle and strength. But the one thing that remained the same was that boyish smile.
“Six and tips, right?” He waited for her to nod, though he knew her drink better than she did. After all, he’d been the one to introduce her to the whisky cut with small beer.
She loved that about him.
He was the only man who ever bothered to ask what she wanted.
He filled a tankard and passed it to her. “So I see you’ve got Isaac guardin’ you again tonight. He’s back there pawin’ at Becks.”
“Thank you.” She accepted the drink, wrapping her fingers around the tankard’s handle and taking a small sip. The whisky glided down her throat with the dangerous slink of irresistible temptation, slow and steady. She allowed herself one more sip before setting the tankard back onto the counter top. “Is Becks all right? Should I go over there?”
Charlie shook his head. “Saw him pay. Becks will be furious if you interrupt her while she’s workin’. Once I asked her if she wanted another drink, and she threw a bloody plate at my head.”
“Did it hit you?” Mina raised the tankard to her lips, drinking.
Charlie tapped the left side of his head, right above his ear. “Damned if it didn’t bleed, too. Thought I was gonna need a loblolley boy.”
Mina shuddered. “Don’t you dare go to the ‘doctors’ in Ratcliffe. If you need medical attention, Cyrus knows a man.”
In the rookeries, any man could trawl the streets with a cart claiming to be a surgeon. The idea of Charlie being operated on by any of those quack doctors terrified her.
Charlie flashed her another grin. “Look at you, worryin’ about me. Makes a man feel wanted.”
She swallowed, his words setting tremors off in her belly. She did want him—more than he knew—and in ways that she wasn’t supposed to know about as an innocent maid.
But they could never be.
She did the only thing possible: she changed the subject. She looked back from Charlie to Isaac, who had his hand halfway down the prostitute’s shirt. “At least somebody enjoys Isaac being here.”
“Don’t know why Joaquin keeps sendin’ him.” Charlie frowned. “You’re safe here. I’ll protect you, always.”
Mina pursed her lips, staring into the six and tips as though it could provide all the answers. “Even with the peace between the gangs, he says he doesn’t trust anyone but a King to watch over me.”
“Because his men are so much better than us.” Charlie’s frown deepened, becoming that scowl she knew all too well—the one he wore any time they talked about her brother’s rival gang.
A precarious truce had held for the last two decades between the three East End gangs: the Chapman Street Gang of Ratcliffe and Wapping; Joaquin’s Kings of Whitechapel, Bethnal Green, and Stepney Green; and Jasper Finn’s Tanners of Jacob’s Island and Bermondsey. Members could travel throughout London without fear of attack, as long as they refrained from doing business in rival territories. But the execution of resurrectionist Finn a few months prior had upset the balance of power—without a clear leader to take his place, both Chapman and the Kings were chomping at the bit to seize his holdings. From the snippets of conversations she’d overheard at home the last few weeks, she guessed the Kings were going to make a move soon for Finn’s most profitable enterprises.
She was supposed to care about the Kings. Supposed to believe that they were the best, always justified in their actions, because a member of the Mason family had led the gang for the last forty years.
Yet Mina had never felt at home among Joaquin’s men, and she certainly didn’t find any of t
hem appealing. How could she, when she’d grown up with Charlie by her side? From the night they’d first met thirteen years ago, he’d been there by her side through every trial and triumph of her life. Her father’s death. When she’d fallen climbing the big oak tree outside her bedroom window and broken her arm. When Cyrus was unfaithful to Jane, ending their engagement and any hope she had of having a sister.
So while she didn’t care about the gangs, she cared about Charlie. She wanted to run her thumb across his lips, smooth away those frown lines until the boy she’d known reappeared. That boy could always make her laugh, even when the situation was dire.
Maybe that boy had died long ago, and the man left in his stead was Chapman through and through, loyal to his thief brothers.
They meant more than she did.
Chapman had taken Charlie in, given him a home when his father passed. Mina was tolerated here because of Charlie, but she never, ever forgot where Charlie belonged.
At the opposite end of the bar, a patron waved at him, trying to get his attention. Charlie nodded swiftly, but instead of helping the man, he grabbed a threadbare towel from behind the counter. He swiped at the surface, even though it already gleamed from his earlier efforts. He continued cleaning as the patron made a rude gesture and stood up, leaving the bar area.
“You can take care of the other customers,” she told him, her voice soft yet firm. “I don’t need to be watched.”