Page 38 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
Ellie pointed to her pocket to indicate they’d found the book, and Daisy nodded her understanding before she turned left and disappeared into the billiard room.
Ellie gave an inward groan. She would have some explaining to do when she got back to King & Co.
Chapter Eighteen
Ellie could scarcely look at Harry as they stood on the Willinghams’ front steps awaiting his carriage. She was desperate to get the prayer book home, and so full of restless, nervous energy that it took all her control not to hop from one foot to the other.
She’d been on successful missions before, with Daisy and Tess, but she’d never felt so terrifyingly alive as she did now, in Harry’s presence. Excitement and daring seemed to fizz in her blood.
The cold wind whipped at her cloak and brought a sheen of moisture to her eyes, and she was glad when Carson finally drew the horses to a stop at the front of the queue. She threw herself down on the seat with a theatrical sigh, and smiled up at Harry as he settled across from her.
“We did it! I can’t believe it! What a night.”
He returned her grin, his eyes glowing with good humor. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Admit it, Miss Law. Sneaking around can be fun.”
Ellie laughed. “Sneaking around can beterrifying. So many things could have gone wrong.”
“Ah, but they didn’t. Luck was on our side. And talent. We make a good team.”
She shook her head with a wry chuckle. “We still committed a crime. I can’t believe I’ve stooped so low.”
He shot her a mocking, commiserating look. “Yes, guilty of aiding and abetting a known criminal. What a naughty girl you are.”
The way he said it brought the heat back to her cheeks. He sounded more approving than anything else.
Shefeltlike a bad girl.
Not for the stealing, but because she wanted another kiss. Quite desperately.
He sat back, his arm resting along the back of the seat, the picture of masculine ease, and she squirmed as she tried not to look at his mouth and remember the taste of it.
He’d been acting. Playing a part. Nothing more. She had to pull herself together.
“If it’s any consolation,” he said lightly, “you’re in excellent company. Most of the great artists and composers were thieves, too. They all copied one another, stealing ideas and techniques. Michelangelo started his career by faking ancient Greek statues. He buried them in the ground to artificially age them, and when the Italian cardinal he sold them to as ‘antique’ discovered they were new, he was so impressed by Michelangelo’s talent for imitating that instead of prosecuting him, he invited him to Rome, and became his patron.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “That’s an exceptional case. You only have to look at the trials at the Old Bailey to know that the vast majority of crimes are punished, not rewarded.”
“I happen to think thateveryoneis capable of becoming a thief, given the right circumstances. For example,stealing a painting just because it would look nice in your drawing room is undoubtedly bad. But is stealing that same painting to sell and feed your starving family equally wrong?”
“The law would say yes. Stealing is stealing, regardless of the motivation.”
“Pfft. People aren’t so clear-cut. We’re all a mass of contradictions.”
Like you, Ellie thought.
Harry had so many facets to his personality she wasn’t sure what to believe. She didn’t even know his real name, and yet she felt closer to him, more attracted to him, than to any other man she’d ever met.
How was that possible?
“What did you do with the key to the safe?” she asked instead.
“Dropped it on the floor by the billiard room as we left. Willingham will assume he mislaid it.”
Ellie nodded approvingly. “Do you mind if I take off this wig? The pins are sticking into my skull.”
“Go ahead.”
With a relieved sigh she removed the elaborate hairpiece, and began to pull out the numerous hairpins that Tess had used to secure her own hair. She did it by feel, since the carriage lacked a mirror, patting her hands over her head and releasing her curls one by one until they fell around her shoulders in an unruly brown cloud.