A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  “Anyway …” Renata sighed, drawing her curls behind her ears. “William! It feels like ages since we’ve seen you. I don’t suppose you have any tales to draw up?”

  William swung his head in her direction, furrowing his brow. His lips parted. Before he knew what he was doing, he said, “In fact, I did have something quite strange happen just the other day.”

  Thomas’s teacup clattered on its saucer. “I don’t suppose you’ve told me …”

  “No. It’s only just occurred to me,” William said. He felt Harriet’s eyes burning into him. “You must have heard about this thief, the one robbing from the—the Baron Vanderbilt and the others.”

  “Absolutely,” Zelda chirped. “It’s all anyone can talk about.”

  “Well, in fact, I think I—William Abernale—am one of the only people in the world who has come into contact with the thief.”

  There was a heavy silence. Harriet dropped her saucer to the table and gaped at him, her lips parted and glistening. William’s heart bolted. Had he gone too far?

  “I think you have to tell us a bit more than that,” Tatiana said, chuckling. “You can’t leave us in a lurch.”

  “Well …” William continued. “I was out for a walk rather late about a week ago. It must have been after the last garden party, in fact.”

  “Oh?” Thomas demanded. “It can’t be. I spent the evening with you …”

  “I slipped out whilst you were passed out,” William said, which sent Thomas’ eyes to the ground.

  “Regardless, I was out for a walk, and I spotted something rather strange. A dark figure, lurking around the trees of this enormous estate. I only spotted this—this figure due to the moonlight. And the moment the figure disappeared beneath the shadows of the trees, she disappeared.”

  “She? How on earth do you know it’s—the thief, I mean—is a she?” Renata blurted.

  “Well, that’s just the thing,” William continued. “I snuck up on her and frightened her. Her hood fell back, revealing these beautiful curls. Any one of you should be jealous of this head of hair this girl has.”

  “What—what happened next?” Zelda demanded, her eyes like daggers, digging into him.

  He’d fully captivated the table. “Well, I wanted to grab her, to keep her there. To demand what she was doing and what her mission was,” William continued.

  “What did she SEEM like?” Renata asked. “Like, did she seem lower class? You can usually smell them …”

  “Renata!” Zelda said, scolding her.

  William proceeded as though he hadn’t heard. “But honestly, I was so shocked that she was, well, a she, that I allowed her to escape. She ran off from the estate and immediately got on horseback. There was no way I could keep up with her.”

  Zelda, Renata, and Thomas’ lips formed enormous Os. William’s cheeks burned red with embarrassment, as though he’d gone too far in his tale. Harriet’s hand shook as she returned her teacup to its saucer.

  “Did she seem dangerous?” Thomas asked, his voice hushed. “Did it seem like, if you had gone after her, she might produce some sort of weapon?”

  “Gosh, William. You really could have been killed!” Renata said. “It’s horrendous to think what this person is capable of. Out at all hours of the night. Breaking into homes. It’s as though she—and I really cannot believe it’s a she!—hasn’t a single regard for the rules of this land …”

  “To counter you, Renata,” William said, “I’ve been quite impressed with her. She seems to hand-select some of the people in London who deserve to have another think, so to speak, about the ways in which they earn their fortunes. Besides. You’ve heard, I’m sure, that much of what has been taken has been found on the black market? It seems as though this thief—if there really is only one, which is unclear—is robbing from the rich and giving back to the poor. It’s not a simple matter of stealing for her own personal gain.”

  The entire table seemed to ponder this. William again found it curious that Harriet hadn’t yet spoken. He wondered if she was swimming in anxiety, thinking about how that had been the night he and she had shared that kiss beneath the moonlight, in Renata and Zelda’s very garden.

  Perhaps that was a distant memory to her, now. Admittedly, William had had his own kiss with that ravenous thief that evening—although this was information he’d fully snipped from the tale.

  “I’m terribly glad you’re all right, William,” Zelda said.

  “Quite,” Harriet said, her voice almost quivering. “I really cannot believe you would put yourself at the mercy of the night—and so late! Perhaps the next time you walk past the estate of the Marquess, it would be best to have some sort of protection. Perhaps Thomas can come along with you.”

  “That’s right, William,” Thomas said, his eyes enormous orbs. “Do tell me if you’re going to go out on one of your night marches again. I will bring a weapon. Perhaps we can track this woman-thief down, once and for all!”

  Renata and Zelda burst into laughter, exchanging warm glances. But William kept his eyes steady upon Harriet. A creeping realisation came over him. Throughout his entire tale, he hadn’t once mentioned that he’d encountered the thief at the Marquess’ estate.

  It seemed Harriet had added this bit of correct information herself, without his assistance.

  Which meant …

  Harriet’s eyes found William’s over the table. Immediately, her entire body grew tense. She blinked at him like a wild animal, on the brink of capture. William couldn’t help it: his lips crept into a crooked smile.

  This girl. This impossibly beautiful, spit-fire girl.

  This was the girl who’d been stealing from the rich? The girl who’d given him the idea to begin his own operation, as well?

  The girl who’d gripped him in the midst of the Marquess’ estate, kissing him to distract him before darting out into the night?

  He swung his head back and forth, his smile broadening. All the while, Harriet’s cheeks burned bright red. She looked like a child who’d just been caught not doing her work in school. Whilst Renata dove into another diatribe, trying to guess who this strange woman was in the world, Harriet tugged her chair back, nearly toppling into the trunk of the tree. Zelda snickered, casting Harriet a strange expression.

  “What’s gotten into you? Have you eaten today?”

  Harriet pressed her lips together tightly. She blinked at William, seemingly unable to look at anyone else. “I just need to step out for a moment. I’ll join you shortly.”

  “Darling, do you want someone to come with you?” Zelda asked. “You really do look deathly pale. And your mother asked that I keep my eye on you. She said you’ve hardly been sleeping…”

  “Really, she worries too much. You all do,” Harriet said. She spun on her heels and marched through the garden gate, sliding her hands across her lower back. Her brown curls swung back with the breeze. Within moments, she disappeared, leaving a huge, gaping hole in William’s heart.

  “She’s been acting so strangely,” Renata said with a sigh.

  Zelda’s eyes again burned into William, seemingly demanding an answer. It was true that Zelda yearned for William to be with Harriet, to court her, to ultimately free her from her parent’s expectation that she marry him. In Zelda’s eyes, William hadn’t followed along with the plan in an appropriate manner. In her eyes, he’d been slacking.

  Yet of course, it was impossible to tell them all what he’d really been up to. He hung his head for a moment, his thoughts swirling. He could somehow feel the chaos in Harriet’s mind, just outside the walls of the garden. If he didn’t act now, she would get away from him for good. He simply couldn’t handle that.

  Chapter 25

  When Harriet had been younger, she’d relished breaking the rules—up to a point. At six, perhaps seven years old, she’d made it a part of her mission to steal biscuits from the kitchen, sneaking on all fours around the corner of the cabinets, noting the position of the current maid or cook on-hand, and t
hen darting at the last moment to rob the biscuit jar of a hefty selection of biscuits.

  When she was discovered by her mother, covered in endless amounts of crumbs, Harriet felt awash in panic, in guilt. Suddenly, in her mind, all the rule-breaking felt reckless and idiotic, nothing she yearned to do again. Yet, in the weeks after the event, she always felt the itch once more, hungry not just for biscuits but for the adrenaline of fighting for what she wanted, regardless of the rules.

  Now, Harriet felt similar to how she had when her mother had discovered her covered in biscuit crumbs. She’d been caught, and she fully regretted everything.

  She stumbled down the stone pathway between the gardens, her chin bobbing against her chest. The bright summer day cast its rays across her neck, making sweat bubble up. She swatted at it, drawing back a damp hand.

  When William’s eyes had burned into her, she’d understood a kind of panic that she couldn’t fully verbalise. And it had been all her fault. When he’d started into his story about the Marquess’ estate, her heart had thumped so loudly, she thought it might drop out of her chest.

  She’d focused on her breathing—inhale, exhale, inhale, praying to get out of the conversation soon. Yet, when Renata, Thomas, and Zelda had each fired their own questions and comments, Harriet had felt it looked odd that she, too, hadn’t anything to say.

  And thus, she had blurted out the most reckless thing imaginable, adding to the story in a way that proved she’d been the thief.

  Luckily, the others hadn’t caught on. They’d been far too busy listening to the aimless drivel of their own conversation to note that Harriet had brought herself to the chopping block. But William, being ever intelligent and ever aware, had noted it immediately. That smile he’d sent her over the table, it had chilled her to the bone.

  What on earth would William do with this information? How would he choose to ruin her?

  Harriet drew herself away from the edge of the gardens towards the forest, feeling herself cast in a darker, deeper shadow. A tear trotted itself down her cheek, marking itself on the top of her dress. The bottom of her dress grew dark and soiled from her walk, yet she didn’t bother to pull it up.

  After walking a few minutes in the forest, she collapsed in a thick patch of green grass, crossed her legs beneath her, and hung her cheeks in her hands. Her shoulders shuddered with panic. This life she’d chosen to lead—this life of hope for a brighter future for all—could have fully ruined her future forever. Hadn’t she considered that, on the brink of that first thieving at the Marquess’? Or had she blazed straight ahead, without thought for this moment—when everything came crashing down?

  At first, Harriet thought she was imagining the footsteps. After all, the inner part of her mind was such a chaotic whirlwind, not to be trusted.

  But soon, one of the footsteps crunched against a twig. Harriet pulled her head up, blinking into the lush green of the forest. Someone was certainly coming up behind her. And the footfalls were heavy, surely made by a man.

  Her stomach clenched, and her heartbeat felt like a rabbit’s. She hadn’t the energy to rush away, to whip through the trees. Besides, the man was coming from the direction she needed to go for safety. If she proceeded in the opposite direction, she would surely grow lost in the woods.

  When the footsteps grew closer, so close that she heard someone else’s breath, Harriet stood up. Unsure of what else to do, she prepared herself to scream—inhaling sharply. This was her only tactic. Perhaps Zelda or Renata or Thomas or William would hear her. Perhaps they would know well enough to come to find her—if she wasn’t taken first.

  Or worse.

  But just as she begun to erupt into the scream, an enormous hand wrapped tightly around her mouth. Harriet’s eyes nearly popped from her skull as a mighty form overtook her, drawing itself tight against her. Through her back, she felt the man’s heartbeat, monstrous and charged. His smell overtook her. Despite her fear, her knees nearly gave out. She quivered against him.

  Slowly, the hand loosened. A familiar voice whispered, “I’ll only let go if you promise not to scream.”

  It was William. He’d followed her.

  Now, Harriet’s heart beat wildly for reasons that felt entirely different than before. She nodded tentatively, not really wanting his body to fall away from hers. After a pause, he brought his hand from her lips and she turned to look up at him. He stood, formidable, his black curls wafting in this breeze and his eyes penetrating, stern. Why had he followed her? What was he going to do to her, now that he knew her secret?

  Harriet forgot to breathe. She wavered a bit, her hands hanging on either side of her.

  “I’m glad you aren’t going to scream,” William whispered. He reached a hand up and tucked a curl around her ear.

  “Why did you follow me?”

  “I couldn’t not. Not after what I learned.”

  “They’ll know you’ve come after me. There will be a scandal …” Harriet murmured, unable to believe her own words fully.

  “Not if you don’t make a sound,” William said.

  Harriet pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. Her eyes held onto his. She felt she’d never been able to look at anything else.

  William took a slight step forward. Harriet could feel the heat of his breath across her cheeks.

  “I’ve always admired you, Harriet. I’ve admired you since those early days, when you were such a wild creature on the moors, playing in a manner that demanded the rest of us to uphold morality above all things. A rather enormous thing for a child of, what, 11? And yet it’s been at your core, perhaps, since you were even younger. I would have given anything for that kind of passion at that age. I had to grow mine myself, over many years abroad.

  “But this—this enormous task you’ve taken on. This is far more than I would have dreamed you could do alone. Certainly, standing up for morality is one thing. But thieving? From some of the most important families in London? That is another thing entirely. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harriet whispered. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else entirely.”

  Of course, both knew what lies she spoke. William gave her that crooked smile again; the one that told her he knew everything, that she could never fully escape. Again, he brought his hand towards her cheek, caressing it.

  “Don’t worry, Harriet. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I don’t have any secrets,” Harriet said. “I’m really so boring. So normal …”

  “Let me be clear. Your secret is safe with me—only if you tell me everything. And I mean everything,” he said.

  Harriet felt she’d been backed into a corner. For reasons she couldn’t fully comprehend, she didn’t mind it. She drew her tongue over her lips. Still, William’s hand draped across her cheek. Slowly, he drew his lips towards hers, closing his eyes. She kissed him back with a drive, a horrendous need that made her again weak at the knees.

  Her breasts pressed hard at his chest, bulging. His hands wrapped around her lower back, slipping towards her buttocks. The dark space between her thighs had its own heartbeat. How she yearned to wrap her legs around him, to shove him against the tree …

  But it was up to him to be the strength, the muscle. He drew her tighter against him and then lifted her. His tongue rolled between her lips and she parted them wider, allowing him full entrance. He turned quickly and braced her against the tree, breaking the kiss and gazing down at her perfect, bulging breasts.

  With a quick, animal-like motion, he tore at her gown, bringing it beneath her breasts. The smooth skin, the dark brown nipples popped out. He reached forward, drawing his lips across them. From Harriet’s lips, a moan escaped.