My Favorite Thief

Chapter One London, England Summer 1875 He hoisted his leg over the window sash and dropped heavily into the dark chamber, barely stifling a groan. I am getting too goddamn old for this. Cursing silently, he rubbed the muscle spasm gripping his shoulder. He should have known better than to climb that tree. Since when had they started growing with so few bloody branches? He had thought he would ascend it with the agility of an acrobat, easily shifting from branch to branch. Instead he had dangled from it like a frantic puppy, legs swinging and scrambling, arms quivering. At one point he had lost his grip and nearly crashed to the ground. That would have been fine entertainment for the ladies and gentlemen attending Lord and Lady Chadwick's dinner party on the main floor, he reflected darkly. Nothing like having a masked man plummet from the sky just outside your dining room window as the servants are heaping your plate with stringy mutton and greasy peas. He stood unmoving, giving his eyes a chance to adjust to the dark. It was quickly apparent that Lady Chadwick liked gold. Everything within her bedchamber fairly shimmered, from the heavy brocade coverlet upon her gilded bed to the garishly carved commode that towered like a throne beside it. No doubt in her private moments she imagined herself the consort of a magnificent prince or duke, instead of the bloated, sniveling fop she had elected to marry. He supposed every woman was entitled to some fantasy in her life. His gaze shifted to the bureau at the opposite end of the chamber, which boasted a profusion of richly decorated bottles and jars. Stealing silently across the shadows, he reached for the jewelry chest rising amidst the clutter. Locked. He eased open the uppermost drawer of the bureau and rifled through the layers of undergarments folded within. The key lay nestled beneath the armor of Lady Chadwick's formidable corsets. Why did women always presume thieves would never think to look there? he wondered. He supposed they preferred to believe that most men were either too modest or too gentlemanly to rummage through a woman's lingerie. As it happened, he was neither. Carefully inserting the key into the jewelry case's tiny lock, he turned it once, then raised the lid. A glittering collection of precious stones lay gleaming upon the dark velvet within. In addition to her penchant for gold, Lady Chadwick also enjoyed the sensation of large diamonds, rubies, and emeralds against her skin. He supposed that was fair compensation for enduring the tedium of marriage to Lord Chadwick for so many years. He lifted a magnificent emerald necklace to the thin moonbeam filtering through the window, watching in fascination as its color shifted from near-black to the clear green hue of the river he had played in for so many years as a lad. The chamber door opened suddenly, flooding him in a wash of light. "Oh, I beg your pardon," the young woman standing in the threshold quickly apologized. "I didn't realize anyone was in here--" Harrison watched with grim resignation as understanding swept through her. Ultimately, he had no choice. Even so, guilt weighed heavy in his chest as he grabbed the girl and jerked her toward him. She stumbled forward and he caught her, then kicked the door shut. He clamped a gloved hand against her mouth and twisted her around, imprisoning her slender form against him. Her fear was palpable, he could feel it in the rapid pounding of her heart against his arm, could hear it in her soft, desperate little pants of breath. Self-loathing welled within him. For God's sake, focus. "If you scream, I will kill you," he whispered harshly into her ear. "Do you understand?" Her body stiffened. He was acutely aware of the scent of her as he held her close. Not roses or lavender, or any of the otherMonk, Karyn is the author of 'My Favorite Thief' with ISBN 9780553584417 and ISBN 0553584413.