Chapter 1

The string of burglaries in Grosvenor Square and Mayfair have left authorities baffled. No suspects have been identified. The latest victim is Lady Ashburg, who had an emerald necklace stolen during a garden party at her home last Sunday. Scotland Yard has interviewed every guest and servant present at the time of the theft. Yet no arrests have been made. Rewards are being offered for any information as to the identity of the thief and the location of the jewels.

—Illustrated Police News, September 1876

Fitzwilliam Seagrave,the Duke of Helston, or Fitz, as his friends and family insisted upon calling him, folded up the illustrated newspaper that sat on his lap and frowned. The paper contained sensational, garish reports on crime and punishment in England. He set it on the reading table in front of him and sipped his brandy thoughtfully as he examined the frontpage illustration. It depicted a man in black clothing wearing a mask and gloves as he crept behind a beautiful young woman whose neck was bedecked with a large, jeweled necklace.

"Jewel thieves... Honestly, don't the poor wretches have anything better to do with their time than take things they have no right to?" he muttered to himself. For the last several months, the Police News and other papers had been carrying the story of the jewelry thefts as though it was a matter of national concern. As if a veritable wave of crime was crashing upon England's shores.

He stared around vacant chairs in Berkley's, his gentlemen's club. The reading room was usually empty this time of night. He was alone except for an elderly man asleep by the fireplace halfway between Fitz and the door. Most of the men were in the cardroom or the dining room at this time of night.

Normally, he would have been in the midst of that crowd, throwing himself into games of risk, but they had begun to bore him of late. The usual amusements he relied on had lost their appeal. He was too good at choosing the right horses at the derby, it was too easy to take a woman to his bed, and he had exhausted the pockets of most of the men in the cardroom one floor below.

Fitz studied the portraits of past members on the wall. Nearly sixty years ago, life in England had been vastly different. There had been no industry, fewer mills to turn the northern cities white with cotton from the factories, or coal turning the industrial cities black with soot. The men on these walls had never known the hum of gaslights, the rattle of trains, or the feeling of a steam engine in a ship that could power across the water faster than any sail.

Yet Fitz had the sense that the men who graced these canvases had seen and done much in their lives, whereas he had not. It was strange to think that in a world of invention and industry, his life was far less adventurous than the men who'd lived in the past.

A door crashed open at the far end of the quiet reading room, and a tall man slipped inside. His entry disturbed the older member asleep by the fireplace, who awoke with a muffled grunt and cursed at the interloper.

"What in the blazes? Watch the bloody door!" the man growled, his graying mustache twitching as his eyes searched the face of the newcomer. The man who had caused the ruckus was a familiar and welcome sight to Fitz.

"Evan, over here," he called out. The man spotted him and strode over, thunder brewing in his eyes. He slapped his own copy of the Police News down on the table in front of Fitz.

"Have you seen this?" Evan planted a finger on the article that Fitz had just been reading.

"Yes, quite unfortunate business, that."

Evan Haddon, the Earl of Brightstone, was one of his dearest friends. Evan's jet-black hair was slightly mussed, as if he was always dragging his hands through it. Given their long history of friendship, Fitz could tell when his friend was furious, though he was doing his best to hide it.

"Unfortunate business? Fitz, these thieves are a menace. My cousin, Lady Alice, had her diamond earbobs pinched in the middle of a bloody ball."

"You're sure she didn't leave them at home in a jewel safe, or perhaps misplaced them?" Fitz inquired. It wouldn't be the first time Lady Alice had had a complaint to make. Despite her beauty, she was not the most pleasant woman.

"No. Good God, man. They came right off her ears during a dance somehow. Everyone searched the floor after she realized they were missing, but no one found them."

Fitz pictured Evan's pretty cousin dancing, and in the midst of a twirl, he imagined seeing a pair of black-gloved hands plucking her earrings clear off. Fitz suddenly laughed.

"It isn't amusing, Fitz. This is serious business. These thieves left a calling card like street magicians. Alice found this tucked down the back of her evening gown." Evan threw himself down in a chair beside Fitz and tossed a card on the table.

"A calling card?" Fitz was roused from his state of ennui. "Color me intrigued. The papers made no mention of such a detail."

"They wouldn't. It would encourage other gangs of thieves to do the same. Cards would start showing up all over London," Evan predicted, his fury turning to glum resignation. "What's next? We'll see a calling card sitting where the crown jewels used to in the tower of London?"

"Let me see that." Fitz leaned forward and took the card from where it lay next to Evan's hand.

"The card says, ‘The Merry Robins,' and there's a little stamp of a bird. A card is left at the scene of each theft. That's what the detective from Scotland Yard told Alice when she filed her police report."

Fitz turned the card over, brushing his thumb over the emblem of the little robin. "Interesting." He was more than a little curious now about these thieves, given that they had robbed Evan's cousin of her jewelry. Wouldn't it be fun if he solved the mystery and caught these men? The thought spurred a fire in him that hadn't been there in a long time.

"More like infuriating. Someone needs to catch these bastards."

"The Merry Robins... You know who that reminds me of?" Fitz said softly, fighting off a smile. His and Evan's eyes met, and his friend's eyes widened with shock.

"You don't think..." Evan sat up, his face darkening. "Surely not. Beck retired from this sort of thing ages ago."

"I thought he had too, but he might know who these Merry Robins are." Fitz had a feeling Beck would know these men, or know how to find them, and the thrilling prospect of catching these thieves put him in the mood to act at once.

"Perhaps we ought to pay a call on our old friend," Evan agreed. "I swear, if he has Alice's earbobs..."

"Then I'm sure he will politely return them to you," Fitz said with confidence.

Evan checked his pocket watch. "It's nine thirty. Where do you suppose he would be?"

"Likely at the card tables." Fitz stood and Evan followed him out of the reading room. They descended a square-shaped staircase the cardroom one floor below. Cigar smoke formed a thick cloud above their heads, and the sounds of men wagering and cards fluttering filled the room as games were played. Fortunes had been won and lost in this room over the years.

It took a moment to find their boyhood friend, Walter Beckley, or Beck, as they called him. He was at a whist table with three other gentlemen. He and his partner had just finished a hand when he glanced up to see Fitz and Evan watching him. He calmly collected his half of the winnings, shook his partner's hand, and stood. Like Evan and Fitz, Beck stood over six feet tall and was handsome as the devil himself, which had always brought trouble in their younger days. His charming smile disarmed everyone he met.

Beck skirted around the table and gave his friends an inquiring look. Fitz returned the look with a tilt of his head toward an empty gaming table. The three of them crossed the room and seated themselves at the table where they could speak more freely without fear of being overheard or disturbed.

"Haven't seen either of you in a while," Beck mused. He placed his winnings into a leather trifold wallet and then tucked the wallet deep into his breast pocket.

Fitz felt the dig of his friend's words a little too deeply. It was true he had not spent much time with Beck in the last year. They'd nodded at each other in passing when in the club or out at social gatherings, but the long nights of talking over glasses of brandy and playing billiards or cards had fallen by the wayside for them all recently. Fitz realized he'd missed both of his friends more than he wanted to admit.

"I had affairs in Edinburgh most of this year. Business." Fitz had been seeing to his newly acquired book publishing company to make sure everything was running smoothly. It had demanded much of his time to get the offices and the employees up to scratch.

Evan shrugged. "Sorry, Beck. I was busy with an affair of a different sort, one who has since moved on to greener pastures."

Fitz frowned. "Lord Fairton's widow?"

A nod. "She left me for Lord Woolsey when I refused to buy her a bigger townhouse."

Beck snorted and pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. "I see not much has changed after all. So, what is the reason for this call between old friends?"

Evan gave Fitz a nudge with his elbow. "You ask him."

"Oh dear, Evan is too embarrassed to ask it himself? Whatever it is must be dire. Just ask me," Beck replied, clearly amused by Evan's discomfort.

"You heard of the recent jewel thefts?" Fitz asked.

Beck nodded, his gray eyes dimming a little, his amusement fading. "I have. What of them?"

"It has nothing to do with you, has it?" Evan asked. "These Merry Robin fellows?"

Beck puffed out a breath of cigar smoke and then calmly snubbed the tip in an ashtray. He glared at Evan as if his smoking had been completely ruined.

"I meant no offense, Beck." Evan's tone was sincere. "You're the only thief we know."

"Former thief," Beck emphasized.

"Yes," Evan echoed. "Former."

Beck raised a brow. "You assume it has something to do with me simply because I used to steal shiny, pretty things?"

"We made no such assumption," Fitz hedged carefully. "We merely thought you might have an idea as to who these fellows are, seeing as how they might run in your old circles."

"And if I did, what does it matter?" Beck asked. "Neither of you are listed as victims, at least according to the papers."

"Well, poor Evan's cousin would like her diamond earrings back. And me? I'd like to catch these thieves. I have been so bored of late, and these Merry Robins have been running circles around the Yard. Wouldn't it be fun to hand them over to Scotland Yard and see the faces on those clueless detectives?" The more Fitz thought about it, the more he wanted to do exactly that. He wanted to catch a thief.

Beck gazed at Fitz a long moment and then slowly leaned forward. He smiled that charming smile that had distracted many a woman, and more than a few men, as he parted them from their jewels or money without them being any the wiser.

"It's no use hoping to track them down the way a proper detective would," he confided. "You're simply not equipped for it. No offense, you are both bright men, but it's not something one does on a lark. Have you read Criminal Man? Have you studied criminal anthropology?" He saw the dejection on their faces and then added, "For you, a different approach is required. If you want to catch a thief, you'll need to set a trap. Something big, something irresistible."

"Such as?" Evan asked.

Beck was still staring at Fitz, and Fitz realized suddenly what his friend was thinking.

"You can't mean...," Fitz began.

Beck met his gaze. "Oh yes."

"But my grandmother hardly lets that diamond out of her sight. It's not even my diamond yet," Fitz protested.

The jewel in question was the Helston Diamond, a massive gem that could be inserted into a tiara by affixing it to a cleverly placed silver setting in the center. The tiara was a beautiful piece made of a graduated line of cushion-shaped and old-cut diamond clusters alternating with diamond-set scroll motifs. It had been in the family for more than a century, and it was meant to be a wedding gift from Fitz's grandmother for Fitz to give his bride whenever he married.

"We can't use that, Beck," Fitz argued.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, old friend," Beck replied. "If you want these thieves, hold that diamond out as bait and make the task of taking it appear deceptively easy."

"Does this mean you'll help us?" Evan asked.

"Do you want me to help you catch this thief?" Beck asked in return, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

"Yes," Fitz said honestly. "It will be like old times. The three of us up to our old nonsense."

"Very well." Beck smiled somewhat sadly, as though the mention of their past brought a bittersweet fondness to his heart. "Come closer. Now, here is what we must do..."

* * *

Julia wavedthree invitations in her hand. "We have our way in!"

Tabitha looked up from the newspaper she'd been reading. Hannah paused in her letter writing at the nearby desk. They had been resting in Hannah's parlor after dinner while Julia had been at her parents' home for dinner. Julia didn't live at Hannah's residence but she spent nearly half her time there rather than at her own home. She was one of the few ladies of her status who traipsed about London without a chaperone and yet her parents didn't seem to mind. They were a loving, indulgent couple that Tabitha had taken a liking to instantly when she'd first met them.

Hannah chuckled. "Dare I ask what you've gotten us into?"

"It is a legitimate invite, I assure you. My aunt is a friend of the Dowager Duchess of Helston. The three of us are attending a musicale this evening at the duke's home." Julia flashed the invitations in the air with a cheeky grin.

Tabitha almost smiled. Today, like most days, seemed like a wonderful sort of dream. She had moved into Hannah's townhouse shortly after that fateful encounter in the marketplace.

She had placed her trust in Hannah and Julia, and so far, she'd not come to regret that decision. Over the past six months, they had transformed her life from a street pickpocket to a gentle lady.

But what mattered more was that they had held true to their promise. She had helped them steal more than twenty pieces of jewelry, and every piece had been sold, with all of the proceeds given to those in need. Orphans, war veterans, single mothers, and widows fallen on hard times. She'd gone with them to deliver the funds to the very relieved and grateful people who ran the charities.

The children selling flowers now had new coats, pants, and dresses. They also had hats, mittens and gloves. She knew those children would continue to sell things on the street to support their families, but if she could keep them warm, keep them fed... that was enough for now. In the meantime, she was working on a better solution to keep those children from being on the streets in the first place.

Their secret work was on everyone's lips, it seemed, and the whisper of the Merry Robins brought a smile to Tabitha each time she heard it ripple through the markets. It had become a beacon of hope for those who had so few things in life. If her father could have seen her sitting like a fine lady wearing a lovely gown while in a fancy parlor, drinking tea and knowing that she was the one to help these less fortunate people, he would have been proud of her. He would have loved to have seen her feeding the poor and helping teach children to read and write, just as he'd taught her. She spent most of her days visiting the charities they helped with the profits from the stolen jewels; a quiet afternoon like this was rare.

"What time is the musicale?" Tabitha asked Julia as the other woman draped herself gracefully onto a chair by the fire.

"Eight o'clock."

"Eight! I must change at once!" Hannah leapt from her chair in a panic. Tabitha had only a moment to dive forward from her seat to catch the bottle of ink Hannah knocked over before it spilled all over Hannah's letters. Tabitha's quick reflexes often came in handy in such moments.

"You need not change your dress. You're perfectly fine," Julia argued and winked at Tabitha.

Since becoming a part of Hannah and Julia's lives, she'd learned that Hannah, a young widow of only twenty-three, was always polite and perfectly dressed for every occasion. Julia, who was the same age, was almost Hannah's opposite in every way. Julia was a headstrong, wild, risk taker compared to Hannah's compassionate, gentle soul. They had been friends since they were young girls, and Tabitha envied their closeness. Their friendship had been built over years of trust. But luckily for Tabitha, they had been openhearted enough to let her into their circle of friendship and become a fellow Merry Robin.

"Tabby, do you wish to change too?" Hannah asked, using the nickname that they'd given her. Julia had said it was because Tabitha reminded her of a very brave and clever cat she'd once rescued from the streets. That cat was now an ancient, chubby, spoiled feline who rested in sunbeams and chased the occasional mouse. Once Tabitha had met the cat, she'd found it strangely endearing rather than annoying to be named after the old cat.

"I think I'll be fine with this." She waved at the blue-and-cream satin gown that she wore. They had only had dinner an hour ago, and she was dressed suitably for a musicale. More than once, she'd marveled at the change not only of her circumstances but of herself. The dirty-skinned, starving, thin-limbed young woman was gone.

Now she was a woman with softer curves from a healthy diet, and her once dull brown hair was lustrous. Her blue eyes seemed far brighter than they ever had been before. She wore clothing in the height of fashion, spoke like a fine lady, and walked as though she were on a bed of clouds.

But deep down, the fierce street urchin was still inside Tabitha. She felt she was fully of two worlds instead of one. It was not easy to feel like that, but she far preferred it to being trapped in the world she had been born into. She frequently had to face that she was becoming too complacent and accustomed to luxury. She often reminded herself that things could change at a moment's notice if something happened to Hannah or Julia, and she could be back on the streets again.

"Come keep me company while I change," Hannah said with a grin, and Tabitha agreed.

"I'll collect a notebook. We'll need to sketch Helston's house to remember where everything is," Julia called out to them while she searched Hannah's desk.

Tabitha followed Hannah upstairs. Her friend paused as she always did in front of the portrait of her deceased husband, Mr. Jeremy Winslow. He had been a handsome young man, and his face held a deep kindness that always made Tabitha's heart ache at the thought of him being gone. She would have liked to have met him.

Hannah kissed the tips of her fingers and touched the frame, then continued up the rest of the stairs. Hannah had only been married to Jeremy a few months before he perished in a railway accident. Julia said that Hannah and Jeremy had known each other for years and their marriage had been a true love match. It had been two years since he'd died, and Hannah, while still mourning him, had reemerged in society in the last year.

Over the past few months, Tabitha had grown protective of Hannah, just as Julia was. Hannah was too kind, too good to suffer such grief and loneliness. Tabitha had heard her weeping at night sometimes. The helpless feeling had left Tabitha guilt ridden, but how could she offer comfort to Hannah? What could she possibly give her friend to ease her pain? She'd seen her father mourn quietly at night the very same way after Tabitha's mother had died. She had been too young to know what to do then, and now she felt too beaten by life herself.

As Hannah entered her bedchamber and her trusted maid Liza helped her change, Tabitha pressed her with questions about their intended target. She leaned against the bedpost as she listened to Hannah from behind the changing screen.

"This Lord Helston, what is he like?" They'd spoken of the infamous Helston Diamond as one of their most important gems to steal when they'd first met, but it seemed so far away then. Now they were finally ready to take on a true challenge. Stealing little earbobs, rings, and necklaces from women had proved easy enough, but the Duke of Helston would be a far different matter. The diamond they sought technically still belonged to his grandmother, the one hosting this evening's musicale, but it would be his one day, as his grandmother intended it to be a gift for his future bride, and that had been enough for Julia and Hannah to put it on the list.

"Infuriating. Arrogant. He believes he knows everything better than anyone else. He wrecks the lives of others because he must always be right," Hannah said, her tone icy. Liza huffed in agreement as she began to lace Hannah's dress up in the back. Liza was loyal to a fault when it came to Hannah and helped the Merry Robins keep their secret. She's grown up in a poor house as a child and knowing that her mistress was finding a way to help children who lived in such conditions like she did had further solidified her loyalty and silence as to the identifies of the Robins.

"I get the sense he must have done something specific, or are we pursuing him for being generally unpleasant?" Most of their targets had done terrible, cruel things, while others were simply horrible people who dismissed the suffering of others as the price one paid for a civilized society.

"Helston is a tad more personal than the others," Hannah admitted as she came around the other side of the curtain.

She'd chosen her favorite silk reception dress made up of a dark-blue bodice and overskirt with a cream satin flower-embroidered pleated underskirt. Her deep square neckline was reminiscent of the fashion a century ago, with lace at the edges concealing her breasts enough to make the gown appropriate for a musicale, while still reminding any man present that she was young and beautiful, even though she was widowed. Not that Hannah ever seemed to think about gentlemen or marriage or her own beauty. She was far too modest for all of that.

"How is it personal?" Tabitha asked curiously.

"When we were in finishing school, Julia and I had a friend, Anne Girard. She was the sweetest girl, and quite brilliant in her studies. She was very lovely, though not vain at all. She was nouveau riche, her father earning his money through business rather than birth. Some of the girls were quick to judge her, but Julia and I adored her. The year after our debuts, Anne met a gentleman named Louis Atherton and they became engaged. She was quite happy, and we were happy for her. Julia and I knew Louis. He was a good man." Hannah frowned. "Then Helston whispered in Louis's ear and poisoned him against her."

"What did he say?" Tabitha asked, intrigued.

"He said that Anne was beneath him. Unsuitable for marriage. When Louis broke the engagement, Anne's life was ruined by the scandal."

Tabitha's face must have shown her confusion.

"It isn't done, you see. A gentleman doesn't break off an engagement. When a lady breaks it off, there is no social cost, but for a man to throw a lady over..." Hannah winced. "It raises questions as to why, and people always think the worst. Anne was no longer eligible in the eyes of society, and so not only did the man she loved toss her aside, but now no other man would court her."

"What happened to her?" Tabitha's heart tightened for this woman she'd never met. How could someone do that to her?

"Her family became desperate enough to send her to America to find a husband. She sailed for New York. She lost the man she loved, her reputation, and is now cut off from her family, an ocean away—all on the word of that bastard Helston."

"How horrible!"

"I suppose he's a wretched-looking old man?" She couldn't help but picture a villainous man with a leer who used a cane to beat small children he passed on the street.

Hannah sighed as she collected her reticule and gloves. "Tragically, Helston is handsome, far too handsome."

Tabitha rarely thought of male beauty, or any type of beauty, really. She had been focused on survival for so long that beauty in any form escaped her notice. At least until she'd been pulled into Hannah and Julia's glittering world. Now she was starting to see the beauty in so many things... the rain that she'd once cursed, the petals of the flowers that the little girls sold and the smell of freshly baked bread. When given the chance to live, not simply survive, one could finally start to see the beauty in a great many things. It was why she was so determined to help anyone she could by stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

"That won't bother me," Tabitha said as she and Hannah went downstairs to meet Julia and wait for the carriage.

"You say that now, Tabby, but there are quite a few handsome men in this world. One day your head will be turned by one of them, and you will be lost in love."

"Tabby's lost in love, is she?" Julia asked with a grin.

"No, I'm not."

"Not yet. I was warning her about Helston, Julia."

"Oh yes." Julia's smile vanished. "He's a bastard, but a beautiful one."

Hannah gasped in shock at Julia's colorful language.

"Well, he is." Julia lifted her chin, offering no apologies.

Tabitha rolled her eyes. No man was attractive enough to rob her of her good sense, no matter how beautiful a bastard he might be.