The Devil's Thief by Samantha Kane Read Free Book Online

next few months. But each payment had gotten smaller. The
previous owner had been amenable, and simply turned a blind eye to what she
owed, letting her make it up at her own pace. Julianna really did not want her
father to find out about her predicament. If he knew, he would do one of two
things: either help her with the payment, which would upset her stepmother; or,
more than likely, end the lease, and the children would be sent away, the older
ones probably to the workhouse. And, of course, he’d never trust her with so
much responsibility again.
    She
took a deep breath and tried to think. She must find a way to visit the
receiving houses her father had spoken of, today if possible. She had no
choice. It was too late to ask her father for help. How on earth could she tell
him she had stolen the Stewart Pearl, when he’d left his own criminal past
behind to seek a better life for her? She had taken Alasdair’s pearl and she
could not give it back. So she was going to make sure that it was used for
good. She was going to sell it and save the foundling home, with her father
none the wiser. Julianna vowed that after this entire ordeal was over she would
never take a risk like this again. She would do as her father and stepmother asked and meet the new barrister and try to keep
an open mind. And maybe, possibly, she would eventually stop feeling guilty
that she had stolen Alasdair’s priceless treasure in return for unparalleled
pleasure and the memory of a lifetime.

 
    Chapter Five
     
     
    Alasdair
rolled over and pulled her close. But instead of warm lavender-scented hair, he
got a nose full of linen.
    “Juli—?”
he said sleepily, raising his head and looking around. He had to blink several
times against the glare of the sun through the open curtains.
    The
room was quiet except for the noises drifting up from the street. Alasdair
shook his head, trying to clear the sleep from his brain. The sun was high. He’d
slept late. It was no wonder, considering how little sleep he’d gotten the
night before.
    “Juliet?”
he called again. There was no response, and he realized that she was gone. The
room was empty. The open curtains and street noise took on a new meaning. The
balcony doors were open. She had climbed down off the damn balcony.
    He
threw back the sheet and rose from the bed, anger beginning a slow boil inside
him. He looked around and confirmed that her things were gone. He leaned down
and picked up a forgotten hairpin, all that was left of her. She had snuck out
the damn window like a thief in the night.
    The
thought stopped him in his tracks. His stomach lurched and he was afraid for a
moment that he might lose its contents. With a sinking sense of dread, he spun
around and ran over to his dressing table. His hands were shaking as he found
the small key in his drawer. He hurried over to the lockbox on the secretary in
the corner and shoved the key in, but he knew immediately that it was too late.
The box was unlocked. He raised the lid and stared with dawning horror at the
empty space inside.
    She
had stolen it. She had stolen his pearl. His family’s most
priceless possession. The pearl that he had been
entrusted to keep safe.   It
was gone. Stolen by a wanton, lying, deceiving little bitch who ’d
used him and then snuck out his window with it.
    He
stood there, immobile with disbelief for several seconds, his ragged breathing
blocking the noise from the street.
    Damn
his lustful, careless, useless soul. As if his cock alone would make a thieving
harlot forget about her prize. What a colossal, vain idiot he was.
    And
now he’d proven them all right, had he not? His cousin Ernest, the Earl of
Throckton, had wanted to keep the pearl for Alasdair. They had much more secure
places at his estate for such a priceless treasure. Ernest had been so
condescending, just as he’d always been, and he’d looked down his nose at
Alasdair, the offspring of his uncle’s unfortunate marriage to a Scots