She snorted. “You tell me such sweet lies, my lady. Let’s go. We must make haste before they wake. They won’t stay unconscious for long and, as scared as they may be for the moment, they’ll talk.”

  We left Lord Farrelworth’s men tied up in the clearing. The two of them would regain consciousness with empty pockets and crushed egos but none the worse for wear. Bea led me through the trees, well away from the road where my would-be rescuers were gathering.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. “This is not the way we came.”

  “I got us something that will expedite our escape.”

  “You sound far too pleased with yourself. What have you done?”

  We entered the clearing to a pure black horse tethered to a tree, its nose stuck in a bag of oats.

  “Where did this horse come from?” I asked in amazement as Bea waggled her eyebrows at me.

  “Your uncle’s men have graciously provided her for us. She’s a sturdy mare. And for a five-day ride, two will most definitely be more comfortable.”

  “You stole from them?” I asked, my mouth falling open.

  “I’m a thief, buttercup, or have you forgotten? And I don’t know about you, but I’m famished and unattended breakfast is just begging to be appreciated.”

  “That was dangerous, Bea! They could have caught you!”

  “Any outlaw caught by these fools deserves to be caught.”

  “Your ego will be the death of you.”

  “You will be the death of me,” she retorted.

  She coaxed the horse into a trot, keeping us on the soft grass of the bank rather than on the road itself. Only when we had turned a corner and would be out of sight did she click her tongue and urge the horse into a run.

  When we circled back to pick up Chip, Bea urged me to take her horse as she had not yet discovered our new mare’s temperament, and the highwaywoman was surely the better rider of the two of us. I protested, naturally, even though she was correct but did swap to sit astride the familiar chestnut horse.

  We veered off the main road as soon as another path came into sight. Before long, we were trotting through a lush green valley dotted with dandelions and daisies. The tinkling of a stream was music to my ears as I suddenly realized what a thirst I had worked up.

  “May we stop?”

  “There’s a patch up ahead that’s covered,” Bea replied, pointing a little ways off the path.

  When I dismounted, I groaned as I stretched out my poor tired muscles.

  “Well done, girl,” Bea murmured to the horse as she led it to the water so that it could rest and drink. “And well done you, too,” she said to me. “You’re becoming quite the outlaw, buttercup.”

  “You flatter me. I did nothing.”

  “Aiding and abetting is a serious crime.”

  “Speaking of your crimes, you mentioned breakfast?” I said at the same time my stomach let out a ravenous growl.

  “Indeed!” Bea retrieved a cloth sack from the saddlebag of our new black mare. “Dig in.”

  Inside the sack were parcels of stale crackers, a lump of tangy cheese, and a sort of bun filled with currants. Flasks of water and ale were also crammed into the sacks beside blankets and a wicked-looking hunting knife that caused Bea to hum in admiration.

  I let out a long moan as I tore in to our stolen breakfast. “Food has never tasted so good.”

  Bea grunted her agreement through a mouthful. We indulged ourselves thoroughly until we lay shoulder to shoulder on the soft grass. groaning and with full bellies.

  “I need to figure out our next move. Fang knows almost all of the good places to lay low and has probably spread the word that he’s looking for me,” Bea said, rubbing her eyes.

  Squinting at her, I saw the shadows of tiredness under her eyes. I wondered when the last time she actually had a full night’s sleep was. No one could possibly sleep well on that lumpy excuse for a mattress we had shared in her cabin. Even people I knew of in the most dire of financial straits lived in better conditions than she did. With our new riches, I could show her what she had been missing.

  As if lightning had suddenly struck, I sat bolt upright.

  Perhaps I can be of use after all.

  “I have it!” I exclaimed. “I know exactly where we should go.”

  “Do you indeed?” She looked at me with a raised eyebrow until I explained, and then she let out a contemplative hum.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded excitedly. “I am completely sure.”

  “Well, it’s better than any ideas I have.” She stretched her arm out and beckoned me in so that I could curl into her side. “We can rest a while first and then we’ll go.”

  “It is not the only option. You could still take the money and leave. You do not need me and it is not like I could stop you.” The words slid out, laced with more bitterness than I had meant, before I could choke them back.

  If Bea abandons me, I will have nothing. I suppose that was my plan in the beginning, to cut ties and flee with nothing but the clothes on my back. How could I have been so foolish? She was right all along. I would never survive a day by myself.

  “Do you still think so little of me?”

  I shrugged. “Just an observation.”

  “True.” She stroked her chin as if considering it then shot me an evil smile. “But then I wouldn’t get to do all of the sinful things I’ve been thinking about doing to you.”

  I perked up instantly.

  “What things?”

  “Would you like to find out?”

  Her lips met mine before I could answer. I pulled her closer, hungry for everything she could give me.

  “Wait.” To stop kissing her, even for a moment, was torturous. “What if we…what if this does not work? What if you want to go your own way?”

  Would you leave me penniless? Too useless to fend for myself? Alone to die of sickness or starvation in some rotten corner of the world with only my regrets to keep me company?

  My fingers quested for my locket out of habit but found only bare skin.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “No! I am simply…thinking.”

  “Overthinking, more like.” Bea took my hand in hers and kissed each of my knuckles. “I may be a thief, but I’m no monster, I’ll have you know. If you no longer want my company then we split the money, walk away, and you’ll just have to have filthy dreams about me for the rest of your life.”

  Her fingers dragged against my ribs. I squirmed, playfully jabbing my elbow into her.

  “Or I could forget all about you.” I jutted out my chin in challenge.

  “Oh, buttercup.” She cupped my cheek and ran her thumb over my bottom lip. “You’ll never forget me. I promise you now, you’ll never feel the touch of another and not think of me.”

  Chapter Thirty One

  The Highwaywoman

  I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life.

  I was beginning to sway on the horse as we rode up the empty drive towards the country house that Victoria swore would be empty. If she hadn’t been with me, it was possible I would’ve just curled up under a tree somewhere at the mercy of the elements and my former troupe due to sheer exhaustion.

  Focusing on the back of Victoria’s head as she and Chip took the lead was the only thing motivating me to keep going. She had lain next to me in the barn and slept soundly through the night as I jumped at every skittering of a rodent and whistle of the wind. She was fierce and brave, no doubt about it, but I had serious concerns about her survival instincts. Even her desire to be with me should be considered an alarm bell. Although, it was obvious that she still didn’t trust me completely.

  Good. Maybe there is hope for her after all.

  Regardless, I couldn’t bear to wake her to take her turn on watch. It was, after all, my fault she was so completely worn out and, even though I was now barely hanging on by a thread, I wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

  “You’re sure there will be no one here?” I asked her yet again peering up the impossibly long tree-lined drive.

  “Yes,” Victoria replied firmly. “The family that owns this house will be at a wedding in Brighton for at least another week. It is a miracle they were able to obtain an invitation but such is power of legacy. They are not nearly as wealthy as they appear and have had to lay almost all of the staff off. It would be quite the scandal if people were to know they are all but destitute. They are desperate to sell this house. Look at these poor neglected gardens! I only know about their situation because an acquaintance ended up taking on most of their servants.”

  I shook my head. It was easy to forget that Victoria came from a different world to the one I lived in.

  And what a world it is. Manors and servants and gardens.

  What I wouldn’t give to give Johnny a life like Victoria’s where he’d want for nothing. I could never be the guardian he needed, and he’d never be safe with me but, if I could give him the world, I would. For Martha. In her memory.

  I had thought my fiddle was the last thing I had of Martha’s, but that wasn’t true. I had Johnny. He was her flesh and blood.

  It’s not fair that I’m all he has left.

  Victoria’s voice dragged me out of my melancholy.

  “I have been inside once with some acquaintances a few years ago. The interior is almost completely empty. It is a little eerie, if I am honest, but it suits our purpose well enough. No one would ever think to look for outlaws and ruffians here.”

  “Why were you here?”

  Her silence was instantly suspicious.

  “You broke into this house?”

  “Oh, do not sound so scandalized. Breaking into abandoned places or stealing something risky were things we all did once or twice. A dare of sorts if you like.”

  “Unbelievable,” I muttered.

  She shot me a mischievous grin. “Why do you think my family was trying to marry me off? They were desperate to get me to behave.”

  “Honestly, that doesn’t surprise me.” I shook my head. “Only rich people would consider it a punishment to be married to a rich man. You know if I did the same thing, I’d be arrested?”

  Victoria shrugged. “Marriage is just a different sort of prison.”

  I snorted but then quickly sobered as I again thought of Martha. Her marriage had been a prison for her. One that had ended in her death as surely as a hangman’s noose would have.

  The house itself came into view from behind unruly topiaries. The size alone dwarfed what I could ever imagine myself in even in my dreams but the closer we got, the manor’s poor condition became increasingly evident. Some of the upstairs windows were cracked. Broken roof tiles littered the overgrown lawn. Weeds clawed their way from the dilapidated flower beds and picked at the masonry.

  “No lights,” I murmured as we drew closer.

  “I told you.”

  We crept around to the back of the house to where Victoria said the kitchens would be. I kept the horses close in case we needed to make a hasty getaway.

  “This window latch has been broken for years. Boost me in,” she commanded.

  At my raised eyebrow, she sighed and fluttered her eyelashes.

  “Please, oh fine gentleman, will you not assist a lady in need and boost me in?”

  “You’re no lady. You’re clearly a delinquent,” I quipped but did indeed put my hands together for Victoria to step up and pull herself through the window.

  “No messing around,” I called after her. “Let me in right away so I can make sure it’s safe.”

  I heard her thump to the floor on the other side. For all her prim and proper nature, she wasn’t the most graceful of creatures when it came to physical activity. A smile crept, unbidden, to my face as I imagined her embarrassed pout as she fell over. Her cheeks would warm, and she would bluster and flap.

  I was still smiling when the lock clicked and she swung it open with a flourish. The window ledge must’ve been dusty because it had left dark grey smears all down the front of her already filthy clothing. She noticed the direction of my gaze and tried to brush off the dirt but only succeeded in smearing it and making it worse.

  “We should clean up a bit while we are here,” I said pointedly.

  She made a face at me. I blew a kiss in return.

  The kitchen was exactly as I expected it to be. Once upon a time, I had picked up shifts in the local tavern to earn some extra coin. The kitchen there had been half the size of this but, in essence, it was all the same. Familiar utensils hung from the walls. Pots were stacked in piles on worktops next to wood-burning ovens. A huge basin for washing dishes stood in the corner. That’d been how I usually spent my tavern shifts. I wasn’t as pretty or as amiable as the other girls, so I was usually sent to the back to scrub. Honestly, I preferred the solitude of the wash basin to being pawed at by drunken fools, having ale spilled all over me, or having to laugh awkwardly at jokes that I’d heard a thousand times before.

  The coin earned from those shifts went straight into Martha’s escape fund, which then became the fee I paid to Fang for justice after her murder.

  That was a different life.

  I took my pistol from its holster and checked that it was still loaded. The floorboards creaked under my boots as I searched each shadowy corner for anyone hiding in the dark.

  “I’m going to double-check the rest of the house and make sure that we’re alone. Stay here. Behave yourself.”

  “Bossy,” she muttered under her breath as she sat down heavily at the kitchen table.

  “You have no idea.” I winked and walked out of the kitchen leaving her flustered.

  Where the kitchen had been familiar territory to me, the rest of the house certainly wasn’t. I’d never set foot in somewhere so grand. Even gutted of all its treasures, with distinct blank spaces where opulent paintings must once have hung, this manor was a palace compared to even the finest inn I’d stayed in.

  The ground floor had more sitting rooms than any one family could possibly have use for and only one was still furnished. The dining room too still had its long-polished table and chairs that spoke of lavish dinners past, even if the candlesticks and decorations were long gone and the table itself boasted a fine coating of dust.

  In the whole of the downstairs, I only found one portrait. It was a family, all with severe expressions and dressed to the nines with fine jewels. They must’ve commissioned this during the height of their wealth. Perhaps they couldn’t part with this one last reminder.

  Or it was too ugly for anyone to buy it.

  The more I saw of this house, the more I saw of Victoria’s story of dwindling wealth and the desperation to hold on to some long ago status.

  What happened to their fortune?

  Perhaps it was a crook like myself that had taken them for every penny. I liked that thought. In the back of my mind, I still held that future for myself. I would go to the big cities and learn the ways of the high and mighty and break them into tiny pieces to scoop out the gold in my wake.

  Victoria could help me immensely with that.

  She already knew the ways of high society. Yes, she was more of a country girl compared to some of the society in the city, but she could be my gateway into that life.

  An opportunity for the future…if I even have a future.

  Threadbare carpet runners muffled my footsteps as I ventured upstairs.

  The upper floors were more of the same. Huge and empty. Only one of the bedrooms looked lived in. When I ran my hand over the bedding on the four-poster bed, the fabric was more like what I had on my own than the satiny feel I expected. The wardrobes were half-filled, the jewelry boxes empty.

  I glanced down at myself. Days of travel, running for my life, and rolling around in the hay had left its mark on my simple garb and I knew fine well that I smelled like a barn. I snagged some shirts and pants for Victoria and me to change into.

  I made my way back down to the kitchen to find the countess languidly tracing patterns on the wooden table with her fingertip. She gave me an expectant look as I stomped down the stairs.

  “Satisfied?”

  I grunted my agreement.

  “I grabbed us some fresh clothes from upstairs,” I said, dumping the pile on the table. “It won’t fit well but it’s something.”

  “I am sure you will be as dashing as ever regardless.”

  “Was there every any doubt?” I said as I stretched. Victoria stuck her tongue out at me. “I don’t know about you though, buttercup, but I’d really like to get cleaned up.”

  I retrieved a giant kettle from beside the stove and got to work pumping water into it from the spout in the back. I lit the stove and set the giant kettle to boil.

  Victoria watched me work, never taking her eyes off me, until I could almost feel her stare boring through my spine.

  “So what did you and your delinquent friends do when you broke in here?” I asked breaking the silence.

  “Well…nothing really. The breaking in was the goal of the dare and then we more or less just left.”

  “How exciting.”

  “It seemed it at the time. None of them would ever believe a word if I told them what I have done now.”

  “That’s a good thing, buttercup. Deniability will get you out of trouble just as much as that angel face of yours.”

  The kettle on the stove whistled. I dumped the steaming contents into the basin before refilling the kettle. One was likely not going to tackle the mess we were.

  I checked the temperature with my elbow then dunked some old rags into water that we could use to scrub ourselves. I groaned as I splashed warm water over my face and hands, but then I made myself step back.

  “Ladies first.” I stood aside and gestured grandly to the basin as if I were presenting her with a luxurious bath instead of a rusted kitchen sink.

  One day, I might be able to treat her like the lady she is but today is not that day.

  “I do not think so.” She stood and walked towards me, never breaking eye contact until we stood barely a handspan apart. “Take your clothes off.”

  “You don’t tell me what to do,” I scoffed. “And I’m perfectly capable of bathing myself.”