A Jewel for the Taking: Thieves of Desire Book 2

  A Jewel for the Taking

  Thieves of Desire Book 2

  Ellie St. Clair

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Also by Ellie St. Clair

  About the Author

  ♥ Copyright 2021 Ellie St Clair

  All rights reserved.

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher.

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  Cover by AJF Designs

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  Also By Ellie St. Clair

  Thieves of Desire

  The Art of Stealing a Duke’s Heart

  A Jewel for the Taking

  A Prize Worth Fighting For

  For a full list of all of Ellie’s books, please see

  www.elliestclair.com/books.

  Prologue

  London ~ 1808

  If there was an art that Juliet had perfected, it was that of distraction.

  Seeing her quarry near, she pushed away from the wall, her fingers playing with the necklace around her neck.

  The jewels weren’t real and neither was her current character. But that didn’t matter. She just had to get through this, and then everything would be well. For tonight was more important than any other night of her life. And not just because of what it would mean for her, Xander, and his entire family.

  No, tonight was most important because it was the night she and Xander would announce their engagement. She smiled as she remembered how he had asked her, so shy and tentatively, so at odds with his ever-present charming smile and roguish demeanor. They had been lying in his bed, after he had snuck her in, although she was well aware that it was no secret to his family that Xander had fallen in love with the girl they had taken in and accepted as one of their own.

  Before they shared their plans, however, they would finish this one job. The one that his family, along with Juliet, had been planning for months now.

  “My lord,” she said, curtsying in front of the overdressed man, who had apparently been on his way to the card room, likely finished making his polite acquaintance with all of his guests for the evening. He seemed perturbed at the interruption until he looked down at Juliet. She batted her eyelashes at him. She might feel guilty about deceiving him so, but she knew too much about him to feel anything toward him with the exception that he was getting what he deserved.

  Perhaps if he didn’t spend all of his evenings at brothels instead of with his wife. Perhaps if he treated his daughters with anything other than disdain. Perhaps if his servants didn’t quit two weeks after their arrival because he was so horrid to all of them.

  But he did all that without apology, and so, Juliet decided that if they were to rob him of the stockpile of gold he kept in the back of his study — for he was not a man to trust banks — he had it coming.

  She just had to make sure that he stayed away while the rest of them completed the theft.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, leering at her from beneath bushy brows.

  “My apologies for my forwardness,” she said, disguising her voice with her best American accent, “but I simply had to meet you after hearing what an impressive man you are. My father is here on business, and I was fortunate enough to be invited to your most magnificent soiree tonight.”

  “Of course, of course,” he said, his suspicion somewhat eased. “Your father is—”

  “Do you dance, my lord?”

  “Not anymore. That’s a young man’s game.”

  “Oh, but you seem to be full of youth.”

  He blustered a bit, but she seemed to have gotten through to charm him.

  “Perhaps, then, a walk on the terrace?”

  A smile slid over his face as he agreed, offering her his arm, and Juliet didn’t miss the looks that were sent their way as they passed along the outskirts of the ballroom. Not that it mattered to her. No one here knew who she was, and no one would ever see her again after this night — at least, not if all went according to plan.

  As the earl led her along the terrace, despite his proximity, Juliet took a deep breath of air, so fresh after the cloying perfumes of the ballroom. She looked up at the house they had just exited, in true wonder at the amount of wealth possessed by this one man. Growing up as she had, practically impoverished and nearly alone with the exception of a father who had come and gone, she had never been impressed by the wealth that one person could possess. This man’s fortune could feed and house thousands of the people she had grown up with.

  But it was not as though anyone had asked her for her opinion.

  She just allowed it to guide her actions.

  Like relieving men like this earl from some of his riches.

  “This terrace was always more for my wife than for me,” he said, proudly showing her his grounds, as well as the majesty of each room as they passed. “Although I suppose it is advantageous for times such as this, eh?”

  Juliet smiled even as she grimaced inside, estimating that she thankfully only needed to keep him occupied for another few minutes. Xander and his brothers would work fast.

  Suddenly the earl gripped her elbow tightly — far too tightly for her liking — and began to back her against the wall, into the shadows offered by an alcove.

  “My lord?” she asked, her teeth clenched as she realized just what he was doing.

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked gruffly. “No self-respecting woman just wanders about a terrace, after asking her host to tour her around it. You’re American and all, though, so I understand that this is exactly what you would want.”

  “My lord,” she said, her anger growing, although not her panic, for she had a plan. It was a last resort, but a plan all the same. “I actually did want to enjoy your company — on a walk. I would ask that you release me, please.”

  “You’re a tease, then.” His voice revealed an edge to his words as he pushed against her harder.

  “I am not. I—”

  Then with a grunt and a swift intake of breath, the earl was gone — one moment his body was on top of her, the next it was replaced by another — one much more familiar and much more welcome.

  “Xander,” Juliet breathed. “What are you doing? You are supposed to be inside. You—”

  “I saw you pass by the window from a corridor and the lord’s intentions were clear. I couldn’t allow you to continue on with him. It wasn’t safe.”

  “Xander, I can look after myself,” she said, slightly lifting her skirt to show the small pocketknife that was resting within the garter around her leg. Xander’s eyes gleamed, although he didn’t look completely relieved.

  “Of course you can. We’ve taught yo
u well,” he said, and Juliet rolled her eyes. Xander’s family had taken her in a few years earlier, and they acted as though they were responsible for everything she knew. Which was not entirely true, for she had been looking out for herself since childhood. But that was beside the point.

  Suddenly it was Xander who was pulled backward now, and the earl, despite having a couple of decades on him and having received a blow that had kept him down for a couple of moments, caught Xander with a right hook that had him grimacing.

  “Leave me and the lady alone!” he said, pushing Xander once more, and just as Xander let out a growl, it seemed the terrace suddenly became quite crowded, as a few guests noticed the fracas in addition to, it seemed, Xander’s brother Damien, who shoved through the crowd to arrive at Xander and Juliet’s side.

  “What’s going on?” he muttered. “Arie heard noise out here and sent me to check. This is not exactly according to plan.”

  “We have to get out of here,” Juliet returned. “Is everything finished?”

  Damien nodded grimly. “Arie’s waiting out front. We make a run for it in three, two, one.”

  As they exploded into action, however, there was suddenly a shout and the retort of a gun firing. Where it came from, Juliet had no idea, but by the time she pondered it, the pain had already shot up her leg, and in shock she realized that the bullet had pierced her thigh.

  “Xander!” she cried out, her arms flailing as she fell, her leg failing her, and he, of course, caught her in his arms, lifting her within their safety as he and Damien ran as though their lives depended on it — which, of course, they did.

  At some point, everything went black as Juliet let herself go to the pain and the safety of Xander’s arms.

  The next thing she knew, she was back in her bed, her leg wrapped tightly. Only it hurt… and she was so hot, her head pounding, the room swimming unfocused around her. She called out for Xander, and in the haze before her eyes she dimly noted the coming and going of her roommate, Mary, until she finally made out Xander’s large frame.

  Thank goodness. She could remember now at one point she had come out of her delirious dreams to ask if they had managed to steal the gold. It would be worth it, if she knew that they had tricked the bastard. He had nodded, but told her not to worry, that she needed sleep more than she did any gold.

  The heat was beginning to recede, the pain beginning to ebb one morning when she opened her eyes to the sun. She saw Xander through the crack in her eyelids, hovering at the door of her room. She called out to him, but perhaps she was mistaken, just imagining him, for when she blinked and opened them again, he was gone.

  The next time she opened her eyes, she found that her room was dark, nothing and no one within — not even Mary.

  Juliet pushed herself to the edge of the bed, swinging her legs over, finding herself weak but at least able to stand — alert mostly on one rather wobbly leg. Using various objects of furniture to balance herself, she pushed herself to the door of her bedroom, her eyes opening in shock to find the common room beyond it completely bare. Every piece of furniture — gone. Artwork — gone. The only thing left was a piece of paper that was affixed to the door.

  She hobbled over, gripping the wall for balance as her leg was still fiery with pain.

  She took the letter, her eyes running over it quickly.

  As the words became clear, she shook her head, trying to deny them. But no matter what she tried, they wouldn’t change.

  Mary was gone, without apology. That didn’t surprise her. Mary had been as much of a thief as Juliet, only one without loyalty.

  But Xander… if this was to be believed, Xander wanted nothing to do with her. She had been a part of this last plan, but she was no longer welcome in their family, in their schemes, in their future. She had ruined everything. He was gone, out of her life, and she was to never seek him out again.

  Juliet’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to stifle the cry of shock and pain.

  But there was no stopping it, and as the strength she had filled herself with flowed away at the fact that she now had nothing to live for, she sank to the floor, helpless, in a ball of misery.

  When the knock sounded on the door, despite the painful agony that had filled her breast, still her heart jumped, hoping against everything else that it was he. That there had been some awful mistake, that he had changed his mind and returned.

  But when she opened the door and saw his brother, Arie, instead, she knew.

  Xander was gone. And he was never coming back.

  Chapter 1

  Five years later ~ Sussex ~ 1813

  Xander danced around the outskirts of the ballroom, only his feet weren’t in time with the music.

  He caught Damien’s eye from across the room. They nodded at one another, acknowledging both the role they were playing as well as their true purpose for being here.

  A woman nudged against Xander’s side, and he murmured an apology, aware that it was not his place to be knocking over guests. Only when she looked up at him from beneath fluttering lashes, Xander realized that it had not been an accident whatsoever. He flashed her an appreciative smile, but he had no time for flirting.

  Not tonight, at least.

  He lifted his tray as one of the guests placed his drink upon it, and then continued on through the room, remembering all his eldest brother, Arie, had taught him about the nobility and the role he would play as a footman in one of their houses.

  The house was owned by a man who was by no means one of the highest ranking men of England, but one of the richest. He had, apparently, done an excellent job over the years of gathering the debts of more than one poor bloke who’d lost far too much at the gambling table. Now the baron owned half of London, most of whom were here tonight despite their lack of goodwill towards him.

  “How is the evening?” Damien asked as they passed one another, and Xander merely shrugged. He could think of other ways his night could be better spent, but there were far worse things one could be doing to make a living.

  Such as actually working as a footman, spending his life doing another man’s bidding for minimal compensation.

  No, thank you.

  If all worked out here — and he was sure it would for every one of Arie’s plans was carefully cultivated, particularly after that one disastrous night five years ago — he and his family would be even richer than they already were.

  Xander couldn’t stop his eyes from straying to the necklines of women who passed. He wasn’t focused on the ample decolletage spilling from the tops of their nearly translucent gowns, however.

  No, he was far more focused on all that sparkled above them — earrings, necklaces, and brooches, with the odd ring that flashed as a hand raised a drink to lips.

  It was a shame, really, that the style of the day was for minimal jewels, for far too many were tucked away, not available for others to appreciate.

  And yet, that was also one of the reasons he had the opportunity to find all of the baron’s collection — together, at once — and add to his riches.

  Fingers trailed along the back of his neck, and Xander involuntarily shivered as he turned to find an older woman eyeing him with obvious interest. Perhaps the role of a footman wouldn’t be so bad after all, he pondered, for there seemed to be plenty of opportunity to avail himself to what these women had to offer — although he wasn’t speaking of their affections but rather what they wore. Xander had always had an eye for the finery.

  But not tonight.

  Tonight he had to maintain his head, to keep his attention on all before him, for there was a much bigger prize available to him. It would require a great deal more time and would not be nearly as fun in achieving, but it would be worth it in the end.

  He was told that Harold Raymond, Baron of Wilington, was going to be married soon, that he was courting a woman years younger than himself, one with little prospects but a beauty like no other. Whether she would truly become his wife or, instead, his mistress, the
baron apparently didn’t care. Wilington had no shame, nor any reason to worry about making a misstep. He was too old to care, and he owned the debts of most of his guests, anyway.

  Xander would have admired him had he not treated his staff like dirt and considered himself a gift to all of humanity.

  “John, over here!”

  Xander turned, remembering he was John. Truth be told, all the footmen in the house were John, as the baron had no care to actually remember any of their names. Which was just fine with him, for it meant that when he was gone with what he came for, no one would remember him or Damien or just what they had been doing in the house.

  “Champagne!” Wilington called as Xander neared him. The baron stood close to the side of the dance floor, although Xander doubted the man ever wandered onto it himself anymore. Beside him was a man near Xander’s age, black hair slicked back over his head as his stare wandered appreciatively over the woman who stood across from the baron, her back to Xander. The length of her neck was long and pale, the slim curve of her shoulders covered just at the top where they delicately arched beneath the cream fabric of her dress. Despite Xander’s lack of attraction to his other propositions tonight, he had to fight the urge to reach out and trail his fingers along the woman’s soft skin. Xander spotted what he was sure would be two long jewels hanging from her ears, framing her honey brown hair that was loosely tied in a chignon above her neck. That color of hair… it was one he would always be drawn to, that he could never forget. Not after her.