Chapter 1
Greater Edgerton, Lancashire
Autumn 1830
“Stand and deliver.” Three small words, yet that clarion call of the highwayman struck fear in the heart of every traveler—especially when followed by a pistol jabbed into one’s back.
Katherine Leigh merely sighed.
“Give me all your valuables, and no one need get hurt.” The brigand's voice rumbled, dark and menacing, as he prodded her once more.
Nudging her spectacles back into place, Katherine crossed her arms and glanced over her shoulder to give the blackguard an arched brow. “Will you shoot me or run me through?”
All swathed in black, the figure stared at her through the mask obscuring the top half of his face. His tricorn hat sat at a jaunty angle, belying the sneer that formed on his lips.
“Don’t play around, lass. You don’t want trouble.”
“Tonight is liable to be nothing but trouble, Mr. Archer.” Katherine scoffed and shook her head, turning her gaze back to the ballroom and the figures skipping about with all the abandon one expected of a masquerade.
The pistol dropped, and the gentleman straightened, his mouth pulling into a genuine frown. Or as much of one as he was wont to give.
“You are spoiling the fun, Miss Leigh.”
“As I am often accused of doing so, why not embrace my role as resident spoilsport?” she replied with a dry tone.
But Mr. Archer merely shook his head and came around to stand before her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I thought the point of a masquerade was to be ridiculous, though you are quite capable of doing that wherever you are, whenever you wish.” For the briefest moment, Katherine’s heart constricted, and she wondered if she’d pushed the jest just a hair too hard, but Mr. Archer smiled and shook his head.
“You are correct, Miss Leigh,” he said, taking off his hat and sweeping into a low bow. “About me, that is. Though entirely incorrect about yourself.”
Katherine merely turned her attention back to the dancers moving about the floor to the choreography with varying degrees of success. “Well, I cannot be correct all the time or it would inflate my pride to untenable levels.”
But Mr. Archer didn’t laugh. When she finally looked at him, she found his gaze fixed on her. Though the shadows of his mask didn’t allow her to see his brows, Katherine felt the furrowed brow beneath the strip of black fabric.
“You needn’t scowl like that, sir. You are at a masquerade—the land of merriment and ridiculousness.”
His eyes swept down her, giving her drab gown a pointed look. “I will scowl as often as I like when you refuse to participate in said merriment and ridiculousness. I am not Mr. David Archer, but the infamous Dick Turpin, terror of the roads and stealer of purses…” Then, with a low dip in his voice, he added with a rascally smile, “and hearts.”
Katherine laughed. For the first time in days, she felt it bubbling inside, and she let it out—she couldn’t help it. Mr. Archer’s gaze brightened at the sound, though he adopted a mock scowl.
“Do you doubt my prowess, good lady?”
“I do not doubt how highly you esteem your prowess, Mr. Archer. However, your roguish claims would be more believable if you weren’t wielding sham pistols and spending your evening with a spinster.”
With a sigh, he straightened and gave his first genuine frown. “I know you do not wish to dress for the masquerade, but much of the fun comes from the pretense. Let go of your inhibitions, Miss Leigh, and embrace the evening’s ridiculousness. Feign ignorance of the person beneath the costume, and play along.”
His words were hardly a scolding, but Katherine fought to keep her cheeks from burning. “I apologize, but today has been especially beastly.”
Mr. Archer tucked his pistol into the edge of his sash, which was tied about his waist in a fashion better suited for a pirate, yet still seemed fitting for his roguish costume. Mr. Archer’s brows peeked up above the edge of his cloth mask, and he didn’t need to speak the words for her to know the question nor did she need to answer: both were always the same. Yet she spoke anyway.
“Mama was pestering me all day,” she murmured with a sigh. “Forever demanding that I leave my spectacles behind—as though they are the sole impediment to my marrying. Rosanna decided to add to the cacophony, forever needling me about wearing a costume to her all-important masquerade. Apparently, the evening would be ruined if I didn’t dress for the occasion—never mind that I never have.”
Katherine drew in a deep breath and didn’t bother to elaborate upon all the many other reasons for her sour mood. It wasn’t as though her life had suddenly grown more dark and morose. Her siblings ignored her. Mama harped at her. Papa derided her. Society dismissed her. However, some days that load weighed heavier on her heart than others. And realizing that Mr. Archer was the first person pleased to see her today only added to the sentiment.
The gentleman’s mouth pulled into a frown, and Katherine held up a hand.
“Do not fret, dear sir. You know I am made of sterner stuff. I am merely in a mood, and it shall pass soon enough. Do not let me spoil your fun, Mr. Turpin.”
