Chapter Twenty-Four

Lily fussed with the high neckline of her dowdy gown, peering at her reflection in the small shaving mirror. She had sold Mama’s vanity mirror at long last to pay for the materials to forge the armband. She looked wan and pale, her mouth drawn tight even when she tried to turn up the corners in a smile.

I can’t go through with this.

“I can. I must.”

She wished Adam were here, ached for him. Every other time she had readied herself for a fraudulent outing, he had been nearby to bolster her courage. She crammed the spectacles onto her nose, hoping to don the competence of her persona. It never came.

As much as she missed Adam, she had best grow accustomed to his absence. Ten days ago, she hadn’t thought him serious when he’d told her that night would be their last together. Yet, the next night when she’d slipped into his room, he hadn’t been there. She’d lain in bed waiting for him, but he’d come up to bed only long enough to leave a note on the pillow with three short words: I love you. Since then, she hadn’t tried to return to his bed.

Still, she could use his humor and his confidence now. Every time she shut her eyes, she pictured the evening turning toward disaster. No matter the outcome of the theft, the evening couldn’t end happily. Once she turned over the stolen armband to Reid, Adam would leave her. Again.

She swallowed hard. How had the last month flown by so fast?

Busying herself to keep from worrying about the inevitable, she checked the bag containing her tools. The false bottom flipped up at her touch to reveal the forged armband. She replaced it, laying her tools atop the seam. She was ready to play the role of scholar.

The thought made her queasy. She pressed a hand to her stomach, waiting for the feeling to subside. Worry had been making her violently ill this week.

Still unsettled, she stepped into the corridor alone. Tentatively, she made her way down the stairs, lingering over each one. Every step felt like a battle.

What reason did she have for doing this? Mama, Willa, and Sophie.

What if she was caught in the act? Surely Reid cannot fault my family for that…

Did she dare do this when Willa had been so vehement in her censure?

“I must.”

Since overhearing the conversation between her and Adam, Willa hadn’t said a word to her. It wasn’t unlike her younger sister to throw tantrums, but she shouted, she railed, she hurled heavy objects. She didn’t utterly ignore her sister. The weight of Willa’s disapproval was smothering.

Is there another way?

No. Willa didn’t know the facts. The fact, plain and simple, was that Lily wasn’t doing this for her own pleasure. She wasn’t doing this to recover her dowry. She was doing this because Reid had offered no other recourse.

The front door came into view. Adam waited in front of it, his arms clasped behind him. She had barely seen him in the past week, aside from their continued lessons in knife fighting. During those, he was so detached, she might as well have hired a tutor. He was a master at manipulation, at shielding his true self from view. Did he ache to stay with her?

She’d fancied that he did, but perhaps she’d misjudged him.

As she reached him, Adam held up a sealed letter. “This arrived for you. It’s Chatterley’s handwriting.”

Her hands shook as she found the erasing knife to lift the wax seal. As she unfolded the letter, it was simple, crosshatched over what appeared to be a letter to a friend. She swallowed as she read the words.

“He wants to meet tonight at midnight. At the shop.” She crumpled the letter. “He wants the item immediately.”

Adam nodded, sullen. “We knew he would. Now is your chance. You’d best retrieve it.”

If she did, her sister might never forgive her. But if she didn’t…

I must.

…

Keep him talking.

Once again, Adam played second fiddle to Lily as she engaged the other scholars at Lord Granby’s dinner party in conversation. From across the room, he drank her in. Her eyes sparkled behind her spectacles as she discussed the finer points of the gems used in Egyptian antiquities and the methods that might have been used to cut them. In this, she was in her element, playing the part in a far more confident way than she had last time, even if she cast frequent glances toward the door.

Patience.

They had agreed before arriving that the best time to replace the armband would be after the item had been passed around following dinner. They had an hour or more of idle conversation yet to make.

As Lily returned her attention to the conversation, she looked radiant. Animated. At least, until the host offered her a glass of sherry. She took one sniff and turned a bit green around the gills, clenching it in her hand as her cheeks drained of color. She hadn’t noticed Adam relocate the case with her tools.

They had agreed to wait until after Lord Granby’s collection had been circulated, but Lily had been adamant on performing the theft herself. If they were caught, he didn’t want her to pay the price. He didn’t want her to mourn him, either, when he left. Better they part angry, to spare her any heartbreak.

Adam’s heart was already shattered irreparably. He didn’t expect to find peace without her. And if he wasn’t to have peace, he might as well risk hanging. One moment stretched into another as he watched his wife, committing the image to memory. I’m sorry. While she distracted the host, he hefted her case and slipped out of the room.

He was doing this for her benefit.

…

Whether due to anxiety or some mishap in the kitchen, the meal didn’t sit well with Lily. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to smile and make polite conversation with her dinner partner. The thick, cloying smell of roast beef still filled the air, turning her stomach. She fiddled with her wineglass but didn’t drink.

The host scraped back his chair as he stood, a jovial look on his face. “Gentlemen, Mrs. Darling. Shall we adjourn to the study?”

Thank heavens! Lily lurched to her feet, steadied by her dinner partner.

“Are you feeling quite all right, Mrs. Darling?”

She mustered as genuine a smile as she was able, under the circumstances. “Perhaps I overindulged with dinner. Thank you for your concern.”

He glanced at her still-full wineglass, frowning, but didn’t say a word. Since he was next to her and Adam was across the room, she accepted his arm as he escorted her down the corridor. The entire length, her mind was whirling. Despite sitting next to him all evening, she couldn’t recall his name nor the particulars of his interest in antiquities. Her heart drummed an executioner’s beat in her chest as the impending heist approached. What if she was caught?

Remain calm.

If she drew the slightest attention to herself tonight, this endeavor might be forfeit. Butterflies winged in her stomach. She kept her smile by force of will, searching for Adam. She needed him to anchor her, needed his confidence and faith in her. Never once had he made her feel as though she was incapable of succeeding in this or anything else. Her sinuses ached with the threat of tears, but she breathed deep until the feeling passed. When she reached the study, she thanked her escort and separated from him.

A ring of armchairs carefully calculated to allow only the number present and no additions surrounded an oval table upon which a collection of closed boxes had been set. The cases were carved with ornate, fragile designs of long-dead fantastical scenes. Laid out between them were waiting tumblers of amber. The men waited for her to sit. Lily folded her hands on her lap, hoping to camouflage their trembling.

When Adam chose the seat next to her, she fought the urge to lean closer. Lord Granby opened a long, narrow case to reveal a neat row of cheroots. With a chorus of, “Do you mind?” the gentlemen passed around the box. She shook her head, even though she wasn’t certain her stomach would take well to the stink of smoke. Once the men were puffing away, aided in lighting their cheroots by the footman who toured the circle, Lord Granby raised a hand.

“Geoffrey, would you pass out the collection? Be gentle with it, mind.”

The footman bowed. “Yes, milord.”

Lily’s knee bounced with her nervousness. Stop that. She quelled the tremor. A restless energy rose in her, relentless. “I require my case.”

“Here you are, darling.” Adam pressed the case into her hand, his warm eyes catching hers and holding them a moment. His fingers wrapped over hers as he folded her fingers over the handle.

He cocked one eyebrow, his message plain. Can you do this?

She took a breath and nodded once. “Thank you.”

With reluctance, he drew his hand away, giving her a sidelong glance as if wishing to bestow some other sign of affection. Perhaps she was imagining it. Yes, she must be. After all, he’d shown her no such inclination in the past week.

Clearing her throat, she turned her attention to the host. “I’d like your leave to examine a few of the jewels, if I may. You have an extraordinary collection, my lord.”

Lord Granby beamed, motioning with his hands for Geoffrey to serve her the first box. “By all means.”

The artifact stowed inside was not the one she had forged. She and Adam had agreed that it would look too suspicious for her to pay it close attention. As she removed her spectacles and replaced them with her jeweler’s monocle, she battled another bout of nerves. The wings in her stomach felt more like sparrows than butterflies.

She focused on an amethyst in the gold bracelet, naming its characteristics. Medium color, good transparency with minimal clouding. In the right setting, perhaps a pendant or a brooch with a spray of smaller, colorless gems, she would sell a piece with these qualities for sixty or seventy pounds.

But you aren’t selling it, nor assessing it. Biting her tongue, Lily replaced the bracelet in its box and let the footman carry it to another guest.

She inspected the next piece to settle onto her lap, then the next. Some held no gems at all, though she used her monocle to examine the metal more closely. The pottery she passed along without looking closer. When the armband Reid desired was passed to her, she resolved to pay it no more or less attention than the other pieces in the collection. She held her breath, counting in her head until she reached an appropriate time to send the item on its way.

However, as she lifted the piece in her hand, it felt familiar. She used the monocle to examine the gem. Her breath left her lungs in an audible whoosh as she recognized the slightest crack marring the pattern of the lapis lazuli.

“Is something amiss?”

The light chatter of the men as they puffed on their cheroots seemed to fade away. She drew several stares. Apparently, she had acquired a reputation for finding serious faults with antiquities. She feigned a smile and gestured for the footman to retrieve the armband.

“Of course not.”

Blood roared in her ears. The edges of her vision faded.

Adam touched her knee, an anchor in the moment. He leaned closer, his breath ruffling a strand of loose hair on her neck. “Act as if nothing is amiss. We’ll make our excuses soon. It’s done.”

He needn’t tell her. She had recognized her forgery the moment it had rested in her hand.

Her pulse pounded with accusation. Thief-thief, thief-thief.

This is nearly complete. She pressed her lips together. The cloying smell of smoke only added to her uneasiness. She examined another item, but she couldn’t concentrate.

“Mrs. Darling, are you certain you’re well?”

Lily mustered a wan smile. “I’m afraid I have a headache, my lord. Would you forgive me if I took my leave early?”

“Of course,” he said, rising. The signal brought the other men in the room to their feet.

Ears ringing, Lily accepted Adam’s help to stand. She kept her fingers in his, letting him make their excuses and lead her out, where a maid fetched her shawl. The humid night air, smelling of more rain to come, did little to dispel the mantra chipping away at her sanity. By the time Adam found them a hackney cab to take them home, the inner voice was too much to bear. She pressed her lips together, keeping her dinner where it was as the flicker of streetlamps passed in front of her eyes, making her dizzy. On her lap, her bag of tools felt as though it contained boulders.

When they alighted in front of her townhouse, she numbly accepted his help to disembark. Clutching her case, she led the way into the house. The moment he stepped in after her, Adam shut the door and caught her by the hand. He tugged her away from the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed.” Her voice emerged as a croak.

Adam stepped in front of her. He pried the case loose from her fingers and set it at her feet. Someone, likely Sophie, had left a rushlight burning on the table next to the door. It highlighted the concern in Adam’s eyes as he bracketed her shoulders with his palms.

“You can’t retire yet. We aren’t finished. Chatterley expects us in less than two hours.”

The bitter taste of bile rose in the back of Lily’s throat. If she handed over that stolen artifact…

“I can’t. I can’t do it.” She pulled away. Tears flooded her eyes. She trembled like a leaf in the wind. More than ever, she craved Adam’s strong arms around her. Instead, forbidding, he stepped away, severing the connection between them with his crossed arms.

“We’re on the cusp of giving him what he wants. You’ll be free.”

Would she? Reid had promised that the documents recounting the debts would be turned over, the sum forgiven. But in order to take that weight off of her family’s shoulders, Lily had to cross a line she hadn’t heretofore considered. Reid had cornered her. Now, she seemingly had only one choice.

It was the wrong choice. “I can’t hand the relic over to him. It’s wrong. It doesn’t belong to him, no matter what he thinks.”

Adam watched her with dark eyes, his expression impassive. If anything, his composure shoved her over the precipice. Tears dripped down her cheeks, fueling her anger. Anger at herself, at Reid, at Adam.

“Don’t you think stealing brings no good?”

The words rang between them, washing off of him like rain on a stone. She swallowed hard, recalling the way they’d met. Recalling what he was, at heart. A confidence man. A thief.

Quietly, she whispered, “You don’t agree, do you? You are a thief.”

Adam dropped his arms. Every bit as quiet, he answered, “I’ve stolen. Stolen from many people.”

She clenched her fists, frustration welling inside her. “Don’t you regret any of it?”

He raised his eyes to hers, his gaze snapping. “Yes. I regret stealing from you.”