Thief of My Heart (Hearts of Stoneleigh Manor #2)

1. Chapter 1

Andrew Blakely Langdon, Duke of Gilchrest, stared up at the blue velvet canopy of his large four-post bed.

Even though the room was dark and cool—perfect for sleeping, he lay wide awake, unable to quiet the constant rumble of his thoughts.

A soft rustle came from the curtains hanging in front of the French doors.

Then a shadow slid into the room. It walked along the carpet soundlessly.

The intruder ran one hand over the back of a leather wing chair, then along the edge of his washbasin as they wandered across the room.

Andrew kept still, tense, waiting for the man to wander closer to the bed, ready to seize the culprit who dared violate his home.

Dear God, what if the man had entered into his sons’ room or his sister’s?

The muscles in his shoulders bunched as the silhouette paused not three feet away.

In one fluid motion, he vaulted out of the bed and grabbed hold of a thin arm.

He pinned the man against the nearest wall and pushed one forearm against his throat.

“You should have picked a house where the owner sleeps more soundly, young man. You dare to steal into the ducal mansion?”

He squinted down at the shadowed, dirty face of a lad who couldn’t be more than a boy of fourteen based on his slight frame.

Wide dark eyes met his from under a tattered cap before the boy began to struggle.

Andrew flattened his body against the writhing youth, pinning him more firmly against the wall.

Holy hell. This was no boy. His chest pressed against a pair of soft breasts. Andrew removed his arm from her throat and reached inside her open jacket to run a hand from the curve of one breast down over a small waist and gently flared hips. He stumbled back a step, releasing her arm.

Pale moonlight peeked out from behind the clouds, and he could see the thief flash him a wide grin.

Then she stood on tiptoe, brushing a featherlight kiss across his lips.

Before he could even blink, she disappeared through the glass door.

Andrew stood rooted in place for several moments.

Gathering his wits, he raced out to the balcony, scanning across the lawn.

The moon had disappeared back behind the clouds, and it was hard to see anything on such a dark night.

He leaned forward against the cold wrought iron of his balcony.

Yes, there, he glimpsed a small dark form disappear through the hedges at the bottom of the garden.

How had she gotten down there so quickly?

He peered over the balustrade, curious how she had managed to climb up to the second floor.

Then a cold breeze danced across his skin.

Goose pimples spread across his naked form, and he went back inside, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Sinking onto the side of the bed, he ran a hand down his face to clear the last vestiges of astonishment from his brain. Maybe he was dreaming. What in the hell was a woman, dressed like a boy, doing creeping into his room in the middle of the night?

He should ring for Mr. Rhodes. Have his butler call the constable.

Andrew sighed, his deep inhale turning into a yawn.

What he really wanted was to head downstairs and get himself a brandy to take the edge off the shock.

But fuck all, he’d recently given up spirits in an effort to put his life back on track.

So instead, he lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

He yawned again, his jaw cracking with the effort.

He tugged at the sheet, pulling it over him.

Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to call the constable to put a man to watch the perimeter of the house.

He would be practical in the morning. Then he attempted to quiet his mind and force himself to sleep.

Five blocks away, Emma Whittingham climbed the great oak outside her own window and scrambled into her bedroom.

She ripped the cap off her head and flung it across the room.

What a disaster tonight had been. Not only had she not acquired the piece she wanted, but she had been bloody caught sneaking around the Duke of Gilchrest’s bedchamber in the middle of the night!

Fergus let out a low woof from his spot in the corner.

He got up, stretching his long legs before coming over to greet her.

Emma gave his enormous head a soft scratch, bending down to give him a kiss on his wet doggy snout.

She went over to sit at her vanity and began pulling pins from her neatly coiled hair.

Tonight, she'd lost her breath in one great whoosh of surprise when the duke grasped her arm and she'd had a hard time regaining it as the hard length of his body pressed her up against the wall. Emma looked at her reflection in the vanity’s mirror.

Even now, her face flushed pink at the memory of his long, lean, very naked body.

When he figured out she was a woman, he had dropped back so quickly that she had almost laughed out loud.

Emma walked over to splash her face with water from the basin.

Taking a cloth, she scrubbed the soot from her face.

The kiss had been pure folly, but she hadn’t been able to resist. When would she ever again be so near to such a gorgeous specimen of masculinity, let alone have the opportunity to kiss one?

She should be upset he figured out she was a woman.

Pretending to be an adolescent boy helped protect her real identity.

But she couldn’t be sorry about the way his hand felt skimming down her curves.

Emma pulled off her coat, shirt, and trousers, stowing them in their spot in the false bottom of her wardrobe.

She threw a nightgown over her head and sat back down at the vanity.

Picking up her brush, she began to work it through her long golden-brown hair.

She frowned at her reflection. Tonight, she had lost her opportunity to steal the necklace.

The Duchess of Gilchrest’s ruby necklace was a piece beyond compare.

The dowager duchess had worn it at Lady Cummings’ party just last month.

It had taken Emma’s breath away with its beauty.

The necklace was made up of dozens of rubies clustered together to create flowers that flowed down vines of gold filigree.

The centerpiece was a collection of rubies and diamonds assembled to form a fiery sunburst, which had sparkled every time the duchess laughed at her companion’s witty repartee.

Now the duke would be on high alert. It would be too risky to go back in. She gave a loud snort of frustration. Damnit, the family was supposed to be out of town.

What a foolish mistake to trust secondhand information from that imbecile Johnny Gates.

She should have done her own reconnaissance—then she wouldn’t have ended up in the wrong damn bedroom.

She set her brush down with a thunk. She would just have to choose another mark.

Lord knew there were plenty of rich households in Mayfair that could afford to lose a bauble or two.

“Come on, Fergus, time for bed.” She climbed under the covers. Fergus, obedient as always, jumped up and settled himself at the foot of her bed, covering her feet with his warmth.