She whipped around. Her heart raced until she realized it was William standing there, arms crossed, leaning against a tree. He had one eyebrow raised in question.
“Nothing,” she said. “None of yer business. I’m just going out.”
“Nothing? None of your business? I’m just going out? I’ve spoken those words so many times that Iknowyou’re up to something. A devious something. Something that Edward would not approve of, given that you lied to him this evening.”
“It’s nae his concern. He’s not my keeper.” Damn. That was too defensive.
William chuckled. “A feeling I know only too well. My brother—the despot.” He pushed off the tree and planted himself in front of her. “If you’re planning to defy Edward’s high-handedness then I volunteer to be your accomplice.” He doffed his hat and bowed.
“My accomplice?” She had toyed with the idea of asking Andrew for help and dismissed it half a second later. She’d almost gotten him arrested at the protest march. She wasn’t going to jeopardize his future again.
“Precisely. I also had to leave the Mottram ball—slight issue in the card room—which leaves me with nothing else to do tonight. Except join you on whatever mad scheme you’re running. What scheme are you running?”
She wasn’t sure if she could trust him, but she was sure that tonight would be easier and safer with a six-foot bodyguard. Perhaps it was time to start trusting someone. For all his faults, William was a good man.
“My father, and the scum he’s working with, stole my matches and is trying to sell them as his own.”
William’s eyes widened and he let out a low whistle. “So, what then? We’re off to break his legs?”
The rain increased and Fiona stepped beneath the branches of the tree. There was no need to lower her voice, but she did anyway. “I’m going to steal it back.”
William nodded thoughtfully. “When you go rogue, you go rogue. Have you ever broken into anything before?”
“Nae.” There was that one time, five years ago, when she and Edward had broken into Abingdale’s church hall. But that had been Edward doing the breaking. She had only done the entering.
“Then you’re going to need me.” He rubbed his hands together, a grin on his face. “It’s an art form and I know it well.” At that moment a hackney cab made its way down the street. William hailed it, giving her only a few seconds to make up her mind.
She shouldn’t involve Edward’s siblings in her nefarious activity. Edward would be furious. But William also had a point…This was not a moment for amateurs, and Will was much better at devious behavior than she was.
He yanked the cab door open and motioned her inside. When she hesitated, he quirked his lips. “Either I come with you, or I go inside and tell Simmons.”
Who would no doubt inform Edward and send half the manservants after her. She had no real choice then. “Very well. Let’s go.”
By the time they reached her father’s apartments, Fiona’s heart was thumping out of control. She shouldn’t do this. It was absolute madness. If they were caught, then she might go to jail again. This would be anactualcrime, rather than the farce she was currently charged with.
If she were alone, perhaps she would have changed her mind and made her way back to Wildeforde House before anyone knew she had left. Perhaps she would have tried to talk with her father again and convince him to see reason.
But she wasn’t alone, and William’s enthusiasm for the project made it that much more difficult to leave without trying.
Maybe they would be able to pull this off. The area was quiet. There were a handful of lights on upstairs above shops, but blessedly, the building they were after was dark. This end of the street was black, with the exception of one lone streetlamp. The rain had stopped, but clouds still obscured the moonlight.
They crept down the alley that led to the back of the building. The door was locked but there were two small windows. Fiona placed both palms against one, pushing hard, and tried to slide the glass pane up using friction and force. It was locked, and even if it weren’t, the rain made it impossible to get a good grip.
She leaned over, hands on knees, and looked for other options. William, however, didn’t bother with the ground floor windows. After she’d pointed out the room they were after, he scrambled up a nearby tree as though he were a sailor used to climbing rigging.
Once he reached the height of the second story, he began to inch his way along a branch that almost brushed against the building.
Fiona held her breath, praying that he wouldn’t slip. The closer to the window he got, the more the branch bowed under his weight. She bit her lip, waiting for the telltale crack of wood snapping.
Instead, there was a soft “Whoop” as he got his fingers under the window frame and slid it open. About a minute later, the door in front of her swung open and she hurried inside.
The foyer was pitch black. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a candle, passing it to William, and then the box with matches and sandpaper. She struck the match across the sandpaper, feeling her usual rush of satisfaction at the hiss.
When she developed this product, she had imagined it being used for good, helping out those in times of need. Funny then, that its first proper use was a crime. She took the candle from William and lit it.
They climbed the stairs, quickly reaching her father’s front door, which William had left slightly ajar. She hadn’t brought a spare candle as she hadn’t anticipated having an accomplice. So she took the risk and touched the flame to a lamp by the door, illuminating the room.
William went straight for the windows and pulled shut the curtains to stop anyone on the street from seeing the light. Fiona made directly for the desk her father had been so keen to keep her from. Crouching down, she lifted the lid off the first of the hat boxes.
