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Category:
Historical Fiction
Alicia doesn't want to be married, but nor does she want to spend the remainder of her life tied to the old man who pulled her out of the gutter, educated her and has her stealing from his aristocratic friends.
When he sells her off in marriage to one of his gambling buddies to pay off his debt, Alicia is infuriated, but powerless to stop it.
After Alicia marries, a relationship grows between them until it is discovered that, sue to the interference of her former guardian, he has lost all his money. Can this be solved? Are they finished?
Thief by Moonlight is a historical fiction/romance. It takes place in 1890's London. It is available on Amazon Kindle.
Excerpt
THIEF BY MOONLIGHT
“No!” Alicia shouted. The small paper bag of special blend tobacco she’d carried home for Garrett slipped from her nerveless fingers to scatter it’s contents on the hardwood floor before the roaring fire. Alicia’s hands knotted into fists, tightly clenching the folds of her skirt of their own accord, rather than remaining splayed toward the fire.
“This is no time for histrionics, Alicia,” Lord Garrett announced, picking up the book he’d set in his lap when she’d arrived home, his hands pale even in the dim firelight. “I’m your guardian and you shall do as I see fit. And mind the material of your gown. You’re rumpling it dreadfully.”
“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?” Alicia charged, stamping her foot on the dark, wide floorboards. “Things. Gowns, houses, gems. . . if you marry me off, the income I’ve brought in for years will be gone. No more homes cased, or treasures stolen and sold for you.”
“Can’t be helped, my dear,” Garrett said briskly. His eyes strayed to the tobacco spilled on the floor. “Have a care, Alicia, you’ve spilled my tobacco, and you know how dear it is! Pick it up!”
“Why are you doing this?” Alicia cried, her back to him as she knelt in front of the fireplace, hastily gathering what she could of the tobacco shining in the early morning sun before handing the bag to him. The remainder she blew into the fireplace, rewarded immediately with the aroma of fragrant tobacco leaves. She stood, whirling to face him as a new idea struck her. “You’re in debt, aren’t you?”
Garrett glared, his eyes and attention straying to the book he held. “I don’t wish to discuss the matter further. It’s settled.”
“I don’t consider it settled,” she stormed, pulling off the expensive kid gloves to hurl them at him. “I suspect you not only owe him money, you owe him a great deal. You offered him me to settle the debt, didn’t you?”
“Open that window a crack for me,” he requested, pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve to dab delicately at his forehead. “So hot in here. I hate these wet spring days. A fire is too hot and opening the house is too cold.”
“Stop changing the subject!” Alicia snapped through clenched teeth as she strained against the warped old window, amazed the old reprobate would consider releasing her. She’d wanted out for years, but not sold into marriage. The swollen wood finally yielded with an agonized squeal, a damp chilly draft rushing in.
Garrett shivered, pulling his jacket closer. He glanced up at her resentfully. “I picked you out of the gutters of London when you were eight, educated you, sent you abroad, gave you fine clothing and jewels. . . All I’ve asked is that you liberate a few excess items for me. I have to recoup my investment somehow, don’t I?”
Alicia spun on him, taking a good look for the first time in years. Garrett’s faded blue eyes gazed at her, the whites slightly yellowed and bloodshot from years of excess. His gnarled hands gripped the stout oak cane he used when, as now, he suffered from attacks of gout. His purple tongue snaked out to moisten bluish lips, then retreated behind decaying teeth.
How she hated this man! “You dissipated old lech! I’ve recouped your investment in me a thousand times! Without me, you’d have ended up in debtors prison or the poorhouse long ago. You’d be a pauper.”
His ice blue orbs blazed disgust at her before he retreated again to the book now laying unopened on his lap. “Rubbish! Any one of the hundreds of street urchins that day would have suited my purposes. It just happened to be you I caught picking my pocket.”
“I wish that day had never happened,” she shouted, grabbing his book to wing it across the room, where it landed, the pages whispering their distress as they settled.
He smiled at her, obviously relishing her pain. “No, you don’t. Your precious, club-footed brother would have died years ago had I not provided for him.”
“Provided for him!” her voice rising in tone and pitch, desperately wanting to plant her hands round his fleshy, wrinkled throat. Maybe she should marry, anything would be better than an eternity of this. “You gave him a menial job in the stables and allowed him to sleep with the horses.”
“Kept one more of London’s trash from freezing to death on the streets, didn’t it? Now, enough of this silliness. Fetch my book and then run along. Amuse yourself! You have a whole wedding to plan. Be comforted by the fact that this event will probably cost me a small fortune.”
“I hate you!” she shouted, pacing furiously.
“Yes, dear,” Pale, thin lips stretched into a tight parody of a smile. “I’m certain you’d much rather have grown up on the grimy, rat-infested streets of London and become another diseased trollop like your mother. You’ll marry this man, Alicia, like it or not. I’d hate to see your dear brother put out.”
With a wordless cry of frustration, Alicia stomped her foot, fled the room and raced up the wide, curving oak staircase to her suite at the head of the stairs.
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Adam was admitted at the slam of Alicia’s door at the top of the stairs. “Quite a little hellcat, isn’t she? Didn’t take it well?” he grinned.
“I still can’t understand why you’ve set your sights on her,” Garrett muttered, coughing as he eased his bloated body back into an overstuffed chair after shutting the window, “There are many attractive women in London who’d give anything to marry you.”
“Their uncles don’t owe me a small fortune,” Adam grinned, settling into a chair beside his host.
“You have my bond,” Garrett wheezed. “I’m good for it. Leave the girl where she is, a comfort to me in my old age.”
“No, I’ve decided,” Adam stood restlessly, donning hat and gloves, “I’ll return later this evening. My aunt and solicitor will accompany me. Do try and behave as if you were agreeable.”
Adam left. In the relative privacy of his coach, he leaned back against the rich cool leather seats, smiling. Things were progressing according to plan.
He thought about Alicia, the young woman to whom he’d just become engaged. From the look on Garrett’s face when Adam entered, they must have had a furious battle. From the slam he’d heard, Alicia had certainly been infuriated. He didn’t blame her. He’d have been angry too, in her position.
He’d been attracted to Alicia the first time he’d laid eyes on her. Her slim figure appealed to him. He’d never cared much for the overblown, tightly corseted, hourglass figures currently in vogue.
He’d first seen her at a ball last season. In her simplicity, she stood out among her bejeweled, bedecked, beribboned counterparts. He enjoyed her ingenuousness of dress and economy of movement. Unlike other ladies, Alicia didn’t simper or cluster. He watched as she and her uncle, whom he’d met and disliked, argued. Her uncle had won, and she’d gone reluctantly to do his bidding. Adam’s heart went out to her.
That had been when the first vestiges of his plan had been born. Garrett was the man accused by society of engineering the incident that had forever altered Adam’s life. Finally he’d have his revenge.
Adam began seeking Garrett out. He’d come round regularly, playing cards until the old codger was heavily in debt. Learning of Garrett’s poor judgment and bad instincts for gaming, Adam went to the gambling dens of London, buying Garrett’s markers until he essentially owned the man, then presented him with his proposition.
His first motive had been revenge, to take away from Garrett something the man valued, his niece. But after watching them, he realized she almost hated the old rake. He grinned, imagining the temper tantrum she’d thrown upstairs. She’d not be a quiescent obedient wife. Life with Alicia would be fire and ice.
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