Chapter One
England, 1823
Louisa Hamilton movedwith purpose, her sharp eyes locked on her unsuspecting target. She slowed her steps, careful not to draw attention as she zeroed in on the gentleman’s overcoat. Luck seemed to favor her today—the coat’s large, loose pockets promised easy access. A pocket watch, a money clip, anything of value could be hers in seconds. He stood on the bustling street, engrossed in conversation with another man, the crowd offering her the perfect cover.
A gust of wind whipped through the narrow alley, biting at her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. Early spring was her least favorite time of year—the cold always found a way to seep into her bones, especially when lurking in the shadows.
With one hand, Louisa clutched her threadbare coat tighter against her chest, the missing buttons leaving her vulnerable to the chill. Every shilling she earned was stashed away in secret, hidden from Macgregor’s prying eyes. He still controlled her, his grip as suffocating as ever, and she knew she’d need every penny if she ever hoped to escape his gang of thieves and scoundrels.
She should have been scanning her surroundings for watchful eyes or signs of trouble, but her mind wandered. The bustling streets of Richmond, the quaint shops, and the uneven cobblestone roads were so different from the city sheremembered from six years ago. So much had changed, yet here she was, still trapped in a life she longed to leave behind.
Memories brought on heartache, and she didn’t dare think of the time her family died. Didn’t dare think of everything she’d gone through—suddenly being orphaned and placed in the wrong hands.
Shaking off the unsettling memories, Louisa refocused and edged closer to her mark. Just one more step and she’d be close enough to act. If she could lift something valuable from the gentleman on the corner, it would be more than just a small victory—it would be her first real step toward a new life, a life she had only dared to dream about for years. Freedom was within reach, and all she needed was one successful swipe to set her plan in motion.
The sweet scent of sticky buns drifted through the air, momentarily overwhelming her senses. Louisa closed her eyes, inhaling the mouthwatering aroma, her empty stomach twisting in protest. It had been two days since her last meal, but hunger was a small price to pay for her freedom. Breaking away from Macgregor’s grasp mattered more than satisfying her appetite—especially now that he aimed to drag her down even further, from a thief to a prostitute. Bile rose in her throat at the thought. Macgregor never made idle threats, and she knew he’d stop at nothing to bend her to his will. But she wouldn’t let that happen—not now, not ever.
Taking a deep breath, Louisa concentrated on the gentleman and closed the space between them until her ragged dress brushed against his trousers. The man didn’t turn, and the person he conversed with didn’t seem to realize his friend was about to be relieved of his pocketbook.
Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might crack a rib, threatening to betray her nerves before she could finish the job. This should be easy. She’d done it countless times over the pastsix years. Macgregor always called her one of his best, which was likely the only reason he hadn’t started selling her to men yet.
But today, the usual confidence was clouded by something else: hope. The hope that this could be her last job, the one that would finally buy her the freedom she’d been secretly planning for the past two years.
Taking a slow, deliberate breath, Louisa steadied herself, forcing her trembling hands to still. Her fingers inched toward the gentleman’s coat, movements practiced and precise. The fabric brushed her fingertips as she deftly began to search the pocket. Yet, even as her hand remained steady, she shifted her eyes across the crowded street, sharp and vigilant. Every passerby, every shadow, every flicker of movement felt like a potential threat—a witness who could ruin everything with one shouted warning. Her heart raced in her chest, but her focus remained locked on the task. Almost there… Just one more second, and she could taste the freedom she’d been dreaming of for so long.
From behind, a man’s voice rang through the breeze. Her target turned and looked over his shoulder. Snatching her hand back, she closed her eyes and froze, hoping she hadn’t been caught. Instead of the angry voice she expected to hear, her target greeted yet another friend.
Slowly, Louisa peeked through her lashes at the group of three. The newest man’s hearty laugh sent a jolt through her, triggering an unsettling rhythm in her chest. His voice—so achingly familiar—stirred memories she’d long buried, as if a crashing wave of the past had suddenly overwhelmed her. Narrowing her gaze, she focused on him, and bit by bit, fragments of her old life came into sharp, chaotic focus.
She blinked, her breath catching in disbelief. A ghost? It had to be—yet there he stood, her once-betrothed, laughing and chatting with the two other well-dressed gentlemen. Couldher mind be playing tricks on her? After all, she was back in Richmond, the town where she’d grown up, the place where her life had unraveled. But this… was completely impossible.
Scenes and voices from the past crept into Louisa’s mind, a haunting reminder of the day her world fell apart.I’m sorry to inform you, Miss Louisa, but your family and betrothed died in a house fire.The shock had been overwhelming, shaking her to her core as she stood outside the girls’ school, clutching her best friend Eliza’s hand. Their tear-filled eyes had met, both too young to fully understand the depth of the loss.
Eliza had promised that her uncle, Percy Featherspoon, would take care of Louisa. Trusting in her friend’s words, Louisa had gone with him, only to be whisked off to Scotland within days. She never saw Eliza again. Six long years had passed, and the truth of that dreadful day remained elusive, always lurking in the back of her mind. She’d spent those years wondering what really happened—how could everything she loved be taken in a single moment?
Now, standing in Richmond, her heart pounded crazily, each beat laced with disbelief. Could it be true? Had her fiancé been alive all this time? The thought sent an icy wave crashing through her, shattering everything she thought she knew. How could he have survived? Why hadn’t he come for her? Her mind spun with questions, each more painful than the last, unraveling the fragile sense of reality she’d built over the years.
She shook her head, stumbling back from the group of men, her vision blurring with confusion. If Frank had been alive, Eliza would have told her. He would have found her—heshouldhave found her. But no, it had to be a cruel trick of her mind, a stranger who just happened to resemble the man she had loved so deeply. The thought gnawed at her, and her knees buckled beneath the weight of it. She leaned heavily against the side of a building, struggling to catch her breath, but it wasn’t hunger thatmade her dizzy now. It was the devastating possibility that the life she had mourned, the love she had lost, had never truly been gone at all.
With shaky fingers, she wiped back the stringy hair hanging in her eyes, looping the strands over her ears. Louisa didn’t want anything to distract her from studying the man who resembled—and sounded—so much like Frank.
Quite strapping, she must admit, and he did resemble the young man she remembered as a thirteen-year-old. His hair wasn’t as white-blond as she recalled. Then again, neither was hers. She couldn’t make out the color of his eyes from way over here, but if he were indeed her betrothed…
An ache throbbed in her forehead, and Louisa pressed her fingers to the spot, trying to chase away the rising pain. No, it couldn’t be him. Her entire family had been lost that terrible day. Frank—her cousin, her father’s only male heir—had come to stay with them after his graduation from Eton. He had been in the house when the flames consumed it, taking everyone she loved. She had clung to that truth, as unbearable as it was, for so many years. It was the only way she had been able to survive the grief, the only certainty in the chaos that followed.
But now, the man standing before her unraveled that certainty, and the thought clawed at her, reopening old wounds she’d thought had scarred over. Could it be possible that Frank hadn’t perished in the fire after all?
The man flipped his hand through the air and chuckled. Her heart leapt. Frank had always had a twittery kind of laugh.
“Will you be at White’s tonight, my good man?” One of the others clapped her fiancé look-alike on the shoulder.
“But of course. Only the company of a beautiful woman could keep me away.”
“I’m assuming your fiancée does not know?” the other man replied with a smirk.
“She does notcare,and neither do I.” He laughed again, but more harshly.
Tears burned at the corners of Louisa’s eyes, blurring her vision again as the familiar voice echoed in her ears. Why did he sound so much like Frank? And… engaged to another woman? The very thought twisted her heart painfully. Frank had always wanted to marry for love, just as she did. They had both come from parents who were wildly in love, the happiest people she had ever known. It was something they had talked about often—how they wanted a love like their parents, full of joy and passion, not some cold, arranged union.
