Chapter 9

Dressed once more in her black thief's garb, Tabitha crept down the corridor to the servants' stairs. With each step her ankle twinged, but living on the streets had made her a tough creature, and she pushed past the pain.

The oil lamps in the halls gave only a dim light, and she was able to stay close to the shadows along the walls as she moved. No servants were moving about. She cleared the servants' stairs and headed straight for the rear door. As she passed by the portraits of ancient Helston ancestors, she felt their silent gazes upon her, judging her for the crime she was about to commit.

This diamond will do much more good in our hands than being worn upon someone's head,she reminded herself. She tried to bury her increasing guilt. She couldn't let it stop her this time. She had to get the diamond. Tonight.

Tabitha turned the latch of the door and stepped outside into the night, breathing a sigh of relief. So far, everything was going according to plan.

The cold night air filled her lungs and cleared her head. Above her, stars winked and glittered like diamonds on black velvet, too far out of her reach to steal. She took the same path she had used the night before to reach the study window.

She raised her head slightly, peering into the darkened room. She saw no one inside. The room was half in shadow, but the desk and part of the room was lit with moonlight, enough that she felt confident she could search the room without lighting a candle. The darkness in the deepest corners of the room gave her momentary pause, but she knew nothing was there. The guards were outside the door, not within.

Feeling more confident, she reached up and tested the window. The large glass pane swung open slowly, making no sound. She'd tucked a small grease rag into the pocket of her trousers that had oil which could be rubbed on creaky hinges, but thankfully she wouldn't need it tonight.

Pressing the window open wider, she hoisted herself up on the stone ledge and slipped her legs over the sill and inside the room. Her soft-soled black slippers made no sound as she landed with catlike grace upon the floor.

Tabitha surveyed the room, noting the large cherrywood desk covered in letters and business ledgers, with newspapers at its center. She bent behind the desk and examined the back where Fitz would sit when he was working. There were seven drawers in the desk, three on each side and one directly in the middle. She carefully pulled each one open, her eyes taking in every bit of bright moonlight to examine the contents. A lit candle might be spotted by any servant outside in the gardens, and she couldn't risk being spotted.

She checked each drawer for a false bottom before moving to the cabinets along one wall. The desk had revealed nothing of consequence besides the usual things one would expect. Letter openers, wax seals, a few cigars and bottles of unused ink.

The rest of the room contained walls of bookshelves and one tall cabinet. Leaving the bookshelves for last, she tested the cabinet's door. It was locked, but it was of a make she had picked before. She removed a small set of hairpins, one straight and one with a bent end, and tucked them into the lock. She worked them deftly until she felt something catch against one and then twisted sharply. Then she found the next tumbler and did the same, and finally, a third. A satisfying click at the end told her the lock had turned. She tucked the pins back into her sleeve cuff and opened the cabinet door.

She grinned in triumph as she at last located a large velvet box, the perfect size to store the Helston tiara in. She opened the box and set it on the desk. Diamonds studded the surface of the impressive tiara. The stones sparkled and glinted at her. The piece was more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen in her life. Her hands trembled a little as she took in the visual poetry of these diamonds in the moonlight.

The large diamond at its center was the only thing she would be taking with her tonight. The gemstone was affixed to a silver setting that was tucked into the rest of the tiara. She neatly plucked the diamond from the setting and slipped it into her trouser pocket. She had just returned the tiara to the velvet box when she heard the sound of a pistol cocking behind her. Her stomach plummeted to her feet.

"Make one move and you're dead," a cold voice rumbled from behind her. A chill swept through her body. It was Fitz. He was here in this room. But where?

"Here's how we shall do this. You will put the jewel down, lift your arms, and face me."

Tabitha's breath stilled in her lungs, and her body froze. Everything she and her friends had worked for had been for nothing... because the man she'd grown to care about, the man she was quite certain she might be in love with, had a pistol aimed at her back.

"I said put it down and turn around," Fitz ordered.

She didn't dare speak, not when she knew her voice would betray her identity, just as his had. Protecting her identity was vital so that she could keep Hannah and Julia safe from prosecution for the thefts.

She could feel the weight of the diamond in her pocket. It was secure. If she could just reach the window, she still had a chance of escaping. The real trick would be getting into the house again safely without being seen, as Fitz would likely raise the alarm the moment she escaped. As they'd planned the previous night and would do again tonight: Julia's assignment was to keep an eye on Tabitha's chambers to give her the all-clear to return. She would no doubt be waiting with a nightgown and a robe to help Tabitha once she returned. Hannah's task was to monitor for servants and say she was in need of a glass of milk before bed if anyone spotted her in the corridors while she patrolled. It would also give Hannah the opportunity to claim she'd seen a figure running in the opposite direction of Tabitha's planned escape route if someone were to come in search of her.

It had all been so carefully planned between the three of them. Except for Fitz. She hadn't planned on him at all. How could someone plan for a man with burnished gold hair, stormy eyes and a voice that dripped like honey as he seduced her with the language of flowers? How could she have known that she would fall in love with her target? And how could she have been so bloody foolish to have ended up in that man's trap, as his prey?

"I will shoot you," Fitz warned in a hard voice.

She didn't doubt it. Tabitha took her chance and lunged for the window just as the crack of a pistol echoed across the room. Pain pierced her left arm, but she didn't stop moving until she reached the window. Suddenly, his arms were around her body as he tackled her to the floor. His hands tightened around her, and she had to swallow down her desire to scream. Instead, she fought, kicking hard at his shins and ramming an elbow into his stomach as she climbed to her feet.

Fitz tried to hold her, but she went limp in his arms, forcing him to drop her with a curse. She then leaned back and kicked him hard in the stomach with both her feet, sending him toppling over the back of his desk with a grunt of pain.

She almost ran to him, fearing she'd harmed him, but the need to survive kept her blood pumping and left her jumpy and panicked. She did what she had to do... and fled for her life.

Get out! Don't look back!her instincts screamed as she climbed out the window and ran across the garden path toward the back door closest to the servants' stairs.

By the time she slipped inside, she could already hear the faint echo of men shouting, "Thief!" throughout the house. She darted from shadowy alcove to shadowy alcove as she tried to reach the safety of her room. Tabitha clutched her injured arm, keeping the blood flow stanched as she stumbled the last few steps into her bedchamber.

"Oh my God!" Julia was at her side in an instant. "Tabby, what happened?"

Tabitha pulled off her black mask and drew in a deep lungful of air before she lifted her arm. Blood oozed from a deep gash along the side of her arm. The bullet had only grazed her, or so she hoped. They couldn't have a doctor look at her wound. If they did, she would be done for.

"He shot me," she gasped, still in shock.

"Come, sit by the fire. I'll find some bandages." Julia wet several cloths in a basin of clean water, then returned to her. Tabitha collapsed into the chair by the fire and winced as Julia pushed the sleeve of her blouse up to examine the wound. "Do you know who? Did they see you?"

"Fitz shot me." Tabitha closed her eyes, not wanting to see the blood as Julia cleaned the wound. "And no, I had my mask on the whole time."

Julia nodded as she applied pressure. "I think it's only a graze, but it will take time to heal. I'll put some salve on and then bandage it. We will have to leave immediately before breakfast. We will tell everyone that you are ill after the accident on the hill and that you need to see your doctor in London at once." Julia lifted her head as she seemed to finally process what Tabitha had said. "Wait a moment... you said LordHelston shot you? Not the footman guarding the door?"

"No, Fitz was waiting inside his study. There was a dark spot in the room, pitch black. I couldn't see him while he stood in that corner. It was a trap. He was expecting us." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the diamond, holding it up in the light. "But I still got it."

"Good God, Tabby. No diamond is worth your life! You should have left it and ran!"

"I already had it when he announced himself. And I assure you, I did run..." Tabitha sighed. "Think of all the good we shall do with it." She'd been thinking of the wounded and mentally sick veterans of the war and wanted to use Helston's diamond to care for those men. Men who'd served just as Fitz's father had. Fitz would never know the fate of his diamond, but at least it would benefit a cause she suspected would matter greatly to him. She curled her fingers around the diamond while Julia wrapped a bandage around her arm.

"We'd better get you out of these clothes and into your nightgown," Julia said.

Once Tabitha stripped out of the garments, they tossed the items onto the canopy over the top of the bed, where no one would look when searching the room. They tossed the diamond up there as well.

"We should burn the bloody cloth," Tabitha said as she handed the bloody shirt to Julia. Her friend cast the blouse into the fire, and for a moment both women watched the flames consume the fabric. It came not a moment too soon because someone knocked frantically at the door.

"Let me get it. Put your robe on and lie down on the bed," Julia urged Tabitha. "You're supposed to be feeling ill," she reminded her.

"I've been shot," Tabitha muttered. "It won't be hard to feign feeling unwell."

Julia opened the door to the bedchamber, and Hannah's face appeared.

"Helston just raised the alarm. Servants and gentlemen are searching the house for a thief. Did... did it happen?" she asked. Julia nodded and pulled her into the room and closed the door.

"We have a problem, Hannah." Julia nodded at Tabitha. "That beautiful bastard shot our Tabby."

"What?" Hannah gasped.

"I'm all right," Tabitha insisted. "It's only a light graze... I think. Hannah, we have the diamond, but we will have to leave first thing in the morning."

"Yes," Hannah said, a bit calmer now. "Yes, of course. Where's the diamond?"

Tabitha pointed a finger at the canopy of brocade fabric hanging over her head.

"Good. Leave it there until we are ready to go. Then someone will tuck it in their hair and pin it in place before we depart. No one will dare search our hair."

Tabitha sank back into the bed. "You should both return to your rooms. We should not be seen together until tomorrow morning."

"She's right," Julia said. "But, Tabby, if your arm gets worse, you must get one of us immediately."

"I will," she promised.

After her friends departed, she lay back in the bed and let out a deep sigh. She had done it. She'd taken Fitz's diamond, and he'd shot her like some common thief... which she was. She could have been killed, but that didn't erase the guilt she felt at having kicked him so hard or having stolen the gem. Whatever had been slowly growing between them, that delicate flower blooming in the hothouse of their hearts... had withered away from an unexpected frost. And that loss hurt her more than the bullet that had struck her arm.

Remember all the people it will help. It isn't as though you could have the duke and his diamond. This is no child's fairy tale.

* * *

Fitz heldthe candle up to shed light on the windowsill of his study. Crimson drops dotted the bottom of the sill, and a faint smear of blood shimmered in the light where the thief had brushed his arm on the window frame as he'd climbed out of the study.

Evan peered at the blood. "What did the fellow look like? Big chap or small?"

"Smaller than me," Fitz said. "But that won't help much. Most men are."

Aside from himself and his two friends, a few of the male guests had volunteered to help search the house for the thief. He'd carefully checked them over for signs of injury, of course, just to make sure the thief hadn't been clever enough to come back and pretend to offer assistance. But the guests who'd come down to help him had all been cleared of suspicion.

"You certainly winged the fellow," Beck said as he joined them. "I don't think he will die, but he will be showing an injury. That gives us something to work with."

"I was only trying to slow him down. I tried to aim for the man's leg. It would have been a better target, but I lost my balance during the struggle and my aim was off. Have Tracy fetch our brightest lanterns. I want to follow the blood trail through the garden, see where it leads."

At Fitz's direction, everyone began a careful sweep of the estate grounds, but the blood trail halted only a dozen feet away from the study window. The man must have covered the wound to stop the bleeding, and it had effectively terminated any easy trail to follow.

Fitz glowered into the darkness of the gardens.

"Search the house. Every room, servants and guests," Fitz ordered.

"Well, not every room, surely," Evan laughed. "We ought to let the ladies sleep."

"No, even their chambers. It's entirely possible the thief has hidden himself in a room while a lady lies sleeping."

Fitz and the servants he trusted divided up to cover the entire house. He slipped his pistol into a holster that he secured at his hip and began knocking upon doors. Each time he woke one of his guests, he explained the situation and made a quick search of their room. Thankfully, only a handful had heard the gunshot. The house was large enough, and given the chill, most windows were shut. Good stonework and English oak muffled most sounds in the house.

When Fitz reached Julia and Hannah's rooms, they waited imperiously for him to finish his search, silently chiding him for disturbing their sleep. Then he moved on to Tabitha's chamber. She didn't come to the door when he knocked at first. He tried the handle next, and it opened beneath his touch.

She was fast asleep in bed, the fire in the hearth burning low, but an oil lamp was still lit by her bed. Fitz hated to wake her. She was so beautiful as she slept. Her hair was a rich tumble of dark waves across her pillow. In the dim light, her face looked as smooth as alabaster, with a hint of rose in her cheeks.

Finally, he summoned his nerve to disturb her peace and placed a gentle palm on her shoulder as he whispered her name.

"Tabitha?"

She stirred and her dark lashes fluttered as she yawned. "What is it, Liza? Oh!" She tensed when she realized it was him and not her maid who had woken her. "Fitz? What's the matter? Why are you here?" She sat up in bed and pulled the coverlet up around her chest.

"I'm afraid I must search your room," he said.

"My room? Why?" She brushed her hair back from her face so that it fell in tumbling waves over her shoulders.

Lord, he wanted to touch her hair, to brush his fingers through the silken strands. But he couldn't. To touch her was to always want more. He'd never get enough of touching her. And right now, he had to focus.

"We have a thief in the house. They've stolen my grandmother's diamond from her tiara, and we're searching the house."

"And you think it was me?" Tabitha asked quietly, her face hardening a little.

He almost laughed, but she looked so serious that he didn't. "No, of course not. The thief was injured when I struggled with him, and he escaped. We have searched the grounds and found no one outside. It's our belief that the man snuck back into the house, so we are searching every room."

The tension bracketing her eyes and mouth eased. "Oh..."

"You may stay in bed while I search." He cleared his throat and turned away from her to check her suite of rooms, the tall armoire, and even under her bed.

"Good gracious. You don't really think he's under there with all those balls of dust?" Tabitha asked.

He was on his knees, peering under the bed frame, and he glanced up at her question. She was hovering on the edge of her bed, looking down at him, a bemused look upon her face. She was beautiful. Yes, he had seen prettier women—prettier to a sculptor or painter. But what made Tabitha irresistible was the animation of her face and body, the way her soul shone so brightly from her eyes that it made her infinitely more lovely than any other woman of his acquaintance. There would never be a moment where he would not want to watch her.

"Fitz?" She spoke his name as he let the bed skirt drop back down. He halted in his motions as he noticed a drop of red on the sleeve of her nightgown.

"Tabitha, are you hurt?" He got to his feet, certain it was blood that he was seeing on her nightgown.

"What? No—" She tried to draw her blankets up over her body, but Fitz caught them in his iron grip and prevented her from moving them.

A faint ringing started in his ears as he reached for her arm with his other hand.

"No, Fitz, don't!" She tried to scramble back from him, but he leaned forward, catching her by the collar of her high-necked nightgown. He released the bedcovers and grasped the elbow of her left arm, gentle but firm, as he stared at the darkening red spot. He slowly lifted his gaze to her face, his body cold as he spoke.

"Open your nightgown. I want to see your arm."

Tabitha shook her head in defiance, and he slid his hand up her elbow. When she flinched, he let go. The spot of blood grew slightly on the sleeve of her nightgown.

"It was you...," he said, still not wanting to believe what his eyes were telling him. This was not a truth he wanted. "I... shot you..."

He stumbled a little on the words, horrified by his actions. He'd shot a woman. He reached for Tabitha, his instincts demanding that he hold her safe in his arms and be sure that she wasn't gravely injured because of his foolish actions. But a moment later the heavy truth of her betrayal struck him like a blow.

She met his gaze with fire and pain.

"You took the diamond..." He could barely breathe, his chest was too tight. "Why?" None of this made any sense. How could Tabitha be the thief?

For a long moment he feared she wouldn't say anything. But at last, she spoke.

"I'm sorry." Her words startled him.

"Did you need money?" he asked, his tone quiet. But his mind was shouting with rage at her betrayal. He had opened his soul to this... thief. She had just tried to steal his diamond and in the process had betrayed his trust.

She cradled her arm and pulled away from him a little. "It's more complicated than that."

"Madam, you would be surprised at how very uncomplicated matters of a financial nature can be. You either needed the money or you did not." He braced one hand on the bedpost at the foot of the bed and kept his back to her. He was furious with her. So much so that he couldn't bear to look at her.

"I can't believe you are the Merry Robin thief." He stared unseeing at the flames in the hearth.

"If I admit to it, will you send for the investigators at Scotland Yard?" Tabitha's voice held a hard edge that infuriated him. He was the only one with any right to be angry, not her. He spun to face her, ready to tell her that he would contact the Yard at once. But the second their eyes met, he saw her fear. She thought he would hurt her. And that realization knifed through him. He wouldn't... couldn't hurt her.

He drew in a deep breath, his hands shaking as he tried to calm the rushing chaos of his thoughts.

"I should... but I won't. Lord knows why, but I can't do that to you. I could never hurt you."

She relaxed a little at his words, and he didn't miss the relieved exhale of her breath. He would keep his promise. He wouldn't do anything to cause her pain, but he had to understand why she'd done what she'd done... and why she'd done it to him. After everything they'd shared, the betrayal he felt was so profound, an ever-deepening black pool that threatened to drown him.

"But I will have answers from you." He was not going to let her get away from his questions. "Where's the diamond?"

She pointed above her head to the canopy.

"Tell me you're joking."

She shook her head. With a low curse, Fitz climbed up on the bed and punched the fabric from beneath with his fist, and something bright glittered as it fell to the floor by the bed. They both stared at it for a long moment. Then he got down onto the floor and retrieved it. Fitz curled his fingers around the stone. It was fake, but she didn't seem to know that yet. He almost gave it back to her. It would serve her right to try to fence a bit of glass.

"You should have asked me for the money you needed," he said as he closed his eyes. "I would have given it to you without a moment's thought." The chasm widening in his chest made it damned hard to breathe.

"You still don't understand," she replied.

Fitz opened his eyes. "Then make me understand. Tell me, what would drive a lady to steal?"

"That's just it, Fitz. As I told you before, I'm no lady. I'm a pickpocket. My father died and I had no one. A gang of female thieves took me in and taught me how to survive."

He snorted harshly. "Those other Merry Robins, I presume?"

"No!" she snapped. "I work alone. I only left those notes to suggest there was more than one of me to confuse the authorities."

"And how did you meet Hannah and Julia? I already knew you weren't actually cousins with Hannah."

"We aren't related," she admitted. "I tried to steal Hannah's necklace. That's how we met. She felt pity for me and let me come home with her. I think she sees me as some sort of charity project. She introduced me to Julia as a friend in need. Neither of them knows about any of this." Her pleading look dug into his heart, and he assured her with a stiff nod.

"So you steal to afford your life as Hannah's companion?" He had known many gentle-born ladies to become companions as an occupation when met with financial difficulties.

"No. I use the money from selling those jewels to help those who need it. Orphans, widows, wounded war veterans, the elderly. The money goes to charities."

Had anyone else fed him such a story, he would have called for a constable at once, but he actually believed her. From the moment he had met Tabitha, she'd spoken of the needs of others. She couldn't have known then that he would catch her stealing his diamond, so she wouldn't have thought to lie that early on when they'd first met. He stared down at the glass diamond in his hand and then tossed it into the fire.

"Oh no!" she cried out softly from behind him in surprise. When he turned to face her, he saw that more of her sleeve was dark red now. More blood was seeping through whatever bandage she had made.

"It wasn't real," he said, nodding his head at the paste jewel. "The real diamond is somewhere safe." He approached the bed, and she shrank back from him. He halted as, a fresh flash of pain in his chest making him wince. She still didn't trust him.

"I would never hurt you," he whispered. "You must know that."

"Do I?" she countered.

"Tabitha... From the moment we met, I've been my truest self with you." He held out a hand. "Please, let me look at your arm. The bleeding is growing worse."

He couldn't deny the small but very strong sense of relief he felt when she crawled to the edge of the bed and let her legs drop off the side.

"You'll have to unbutton your nightgown to let me see," he said gently.

With trembling hands, she undid the row of buttons down to the tops of her breasts and peeled the nightgown off her shoulder before carefully sliding her arm from her sleeve. He saw the makeshift bandage and cursed. It was soaked through. She must have reopened the wound when he'd woken her up.

She apparently seemed to notice what he had. "It wasn't so bad before. I think the wound has reopened."

"Christ... I can't believe this has happened. How bad is the wound?"

"I think it's only a graze. I didn't have time to make the bandage tight enough."

This was his fault. He had hurt her, though he hadn't known it was her. He never would have fired if he'd known it was a woman. He'd thought he was aiming at a man.

"Let me take a look." He reached for the wrapping around her arm. "But if I don't like the look of it, I am sending for the doctor."

"Please, Fitz, you can't?—"

"That is for me to decide. I will not have you die of an infected wound that I've caused in my house." He unwound the wrapping until he got a better look. He breathed a sigh of relief. The bullet had only sliced the edge of her arm, not even reaching the muscle. However, the blood was thick, and although it was clotting, it still was bleeding in places. He fixed Tabitha with a glare.

"Do not move. I must retrieve some supplies and I will be back. Lock the door behind me. Men are still searching the house for the thief, and I cannot let them know you've been found."

He exited the bedchamber, his mind racing as he headed for his butler's office belowstairs. Mr. Tracy kept a medical bag behind his desk to handle minor cuts and scrapes that the staff might acquire during the course of their duties. Fitz prayed that his tending to the wound would be enough. The sight of her blood had not only turned his stomach—it had fractured his heart.

His Tabitha was the most infamous thief in London... and he'd nearly killed her.