Touch of a Thief Read Online Free PDF Page A

potato sacks,” Viola snapped back.
    She didn’t want to live simply. She wanted the life she was born to.
    Her father had died without a son, so the bulk of the estate of his earldom, along with the income it generated, went to her weasel of a cousin, Jerome Preston. As her father lay dying, he had penned a letter directing Jerome to provide bountifully for his aunt and cousins, but a letter carried no force of law. The new earl simply pretended the old earl’s family didn’t exist.
    Her father had left Viola his only unentailed property, a London town house, but left her no funds to run it.
    Or to live as the daughter of an earl ought.
    “I’m sure Father would have wished matters differently for us,” her sister Ophelia said from her corner. Her pile of darning was dwindling nicely as her needle clicked in time with the creaky rocker. “He didn’t intend to leave us like this.”
    “Of course not,” their mother added. “No one intends to die.”
    But a prudent man might have given the matter more thought , Viola added silently.
    “When Teddy comes back, everything will be fine,” Ophelia said with confidence. She leaned down to ruffle the hair of the toddler who was playing with a kitten at her feet. “Isn’t that right, Portia? When Daddy comes home, it’ll be all right.”
    The little girl grinned up at Ophelia, then turned back to the kitten with a happy squeal. Viola and her mother exchanged a glance. Viola shook her head. There was no need to remind Ophelia once again that her feckless husband was not coming back. She’d only ignore the information and go on with her own version of the world.
    When Portia was born, Ophelia hatched the notion that Teddy was off on a tour of the Continent, giving poetry readings for heads of state. Nothing they could say would convince Ophelia otherwise and they finally stopped trying.
    She was happy with her fantasy. Who were they to strip it from her?
    But someone had to deal with reality.
    That lot fell to Viola.
    She kissed her mother’s sunken cheek and wrapped a cloak around her shoulders. “I’ll be home before you know it.”
    “Good-bye, sister.” Ophelia smiled sweetly at her. “Say hello to Teddy when you see him in France.”
    When Viola had committed her first theft by lifting a jeweled hatpin out of desperation, she’d quickly realized she needed help turning her stolen good into ready coin. She wandered some unsavory streets, wondering whom to trust. In a flash vision the little garnet in the hatpin had shown her Willie’s face and the sign swinging above his shop.
    When she stumbled across his shop around the next corner, she decided to listen to the stone’s advice.
    At first, she let Willie believe she was parting with her own ornaments, but when she kept coming in, always in tandem with a reported jewelry theft, he tumbled rather quickly to her gift for larceny.
    And heartily approved.
    He suggested an arrangement that would benefit them both. He had connections in low places. As the daughter of an earl, albeit a threadbare one, Viola had access to the highest. They could help each other.
    Viola knew who owned what valuables. Willie found out through the servants’ grapevine and his friend in the masons’ guild where they stashed them. Viola never had to enter a home without knowing exactly where she would find the jewels.
    When she began stealing more costly pieces, Willie claimed his expenses went up. He had to bring in someone to dismantle the jewelry. Sometimes large stones were recut. It all cost money. Her return for each heist dwindled.
    Willie began suggesting specific targets for her housebreaking and promised to increase her share in the profits. So far, she hadn’t seen much increase in her take.
    He wouldn’t be pleased to learn she’d bypassed Lady Henson’s emeralds for Lieutenant Quinn’s stash and come away with so little. She’d left the lieutenant’s home with only the gray pearl in her pocket.
    “A show of good