The Dashing Thief of Her Dreams

by Alice Kirks

  Miles, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than what his brother had: the title of marquess and the entire Nott Estate. Miles knew that it was the way of the world they lived in for all of the familial inheritance to go to the eldest son, but he had not expected his brother to accept the entirety of it so willingly.

  Miles also knew about the little ‘adventures’ that Geoffrey would go on in the middle of the night, but he hadn’t yet discovered exactly what it was his brother was doing on those adventures. He thought his brother was squandering his life as a nobleman with reckless behaviour and foolish decisions, like the one he had made tonight.

  In his mind, his brother was ungrateful of his position and was neglecting his responsibilities. Miles also resented that Geoffrey would soon have more money than he knew what to do with. Miles figured he could help take some of that amount off his shoulders.

  “Good morrow, brother,” Miles rasped with a wicked smile spreading across his face. Geoffrey rolled his eyes.

  “I do hate it when you do that,” Geoffrey said, removing his muddy riding boots and hiding them beneath his desk so that no one would be suspicious of him. “You think that you sound similar to a Shakespearean villain, I assume, but all I hear are the musings of a lobcock.” Geoffrey sat in the plush chaise to the left of his bed and crossed his arms at his brother. “Besides, if my studies have served me correctly ‘morrow’ means morning, and it is still the night, as you can clearly see out of this window.” Geoffrey gestured sarcastically to the inky blackness of night that lay beyond his window. Miles, however, continued to look amused.

  “You see, Geoffrey, that is why I believe I would be better suited to the position of marquess than you are,” Miles mused, “for your studies have failed you. ‘Morrow’ does not mean morning, it means the next day, as in ‘tomorrow’. The word is contained within ‘tomorrow,’ see, so to those of us who have a brain larger than a pea, it is quite obvious. I meant that as it is past midnight, it is now tomorrow, and thus my greeting was correct.” Miles grinned smugly at his embarrassed and enraged brother, who snarled at him from his seat.

  “What do you want, Miles?” Ordinarily, Geoffrey would have had some sort of witty and scathing retort for Miles, but as he was flustered by his own error and was still recovering from the night’s antics, he could think of nothing more to say. Miles, sensing his brother’s annoyance and defeat on the grammatical front, seized this opportunity to taunt him.

  “Why in heaven’s name were you out riding so late at night, Geoffrey?” Miles put on the airs of a concerned mother. “When I saw that you were not in your bed, I feared that the worst had befallen you!” Geoffrey was becoming increasingly incensed and did not feel like discussing the outcome of the night with his brother.

  “I am aware that you know of my comings and goings because you require me to cover for you when you are out on the town with Lady this or Miss that, but I shall never reveal to you what I do,” Geoffrey growled at him. “Why must you taunt me after I have had a trying night?” Miles burst into laughter at his brother’s words, but quickly regained control over his disposition so as to not wake any of the other members of the household.

  “Oh I’m sorry, dearest brother, was whatever you were partaking in a trying experience for you frail disposition?” Miles guffawed at his brother’s preciousness, and Geoffrey felt like snapping his brother’s neck. “If you’re so put upon by it, perhaps you SHOULDN’T PARTAKE IN IT!” Miles loudly whispered to Geoffrey.

  “Why are you berating me when you aren’t aware of what I was doing?” Geoffrey asked him. “For all you know, I could be delivering much-needed supplies to the orphanage in town under the cover of night so that I do not have to be recognised for my good deeds.” Miles looked at his brother in disbelief.

  “I believe that you are doing that as much as I believe that you would be well-suited to taking over father’s position,” Miles shot back at him. Geoffrey gave him a satisfied smile.

  “I am glad you believe me entirely then, brother.” Geoffrey got up and gave Miles a hearty whack on the shoulder. Miles shook from the force if the impact, and Geoffrey continued, “now, you’re sitting where I wish to rest my head. While I understand that my bed is far superior to yours, I do not feel like sharing it with you tonight. Should you have any night terrors as you did when you were a little boy, I request that you go crawl into father’s bed, not mine.” Geoffrey shoved his brother off his bed, and Miles stumbled to his feet.

  “Do not push me, brother. I know far more about you than I am letting on, and should the need arise, I would feel no guilt about revealing your secrets to anyone and everyone.” Miles was lying through his teeth: he was no more aware of what his brother got up to when he went on these adventures than he had been at the start of this conversation. It was true; for all he knew, Geoffrey might actually be going off and doing a good deed, but he was highly doubtful of that. Geoffrey rolled his eyes at his brother.

  “You know nothing, Miles,” he said as he took off his outer garments. “There is a good reason why our father has bestowed the family fortune and position unto me, and it is because I am far cleverer than you’ll ever be. I have hidden my goings-on in the night time so well that you’ll never be able to discover what I am doing, and shall forever remain in the dark.” As he finished speaking, Geoffrey blew out the lantern that Miles had lit beside his bed. The room was plunged into darkness, and now each brother could only see the outline of the other illuminated by the pale light of the moon.

  “This is not yet over, brother,” Miles growled as he stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Geoffrey allowed himself a hearty laugh. The thought of Miles coming to his room in an attempt to intimidate him into telling him where he had been that night was outrageous. Geoffrey knew that he was safe, as long as no one ever caught him in the act. That was, anyone outside of Bridget Stanhope.

  Chapter 6

  After such a treacherous night, Bridget stayed in her bed the next morning for far longer than she typically did. The only reason she stirred from her slumber, in fact, was because at some point when enough of the day had gone past, Lady Deborah came in to check on her.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” Deborah asked her, concerned. She brought with her a tray of something Bridget couldn’t see yet, but when the delightful aroma of it finally reached her nose, she realised how hungry she was.

  “Surprisingly well,” Bridget responded, sitting up in bed. Deborah rested the food on the bed for a moment as she drew back the curtains. When she did, they opened with such force that it temporarily blinded Bridget. When Deborah saw how Bridget cowered away from the light, she closed them halfway and muttered,

  “Oh, right, sorry, I am used to the light and you aren’t yet.” When Bridget re-opened her eyes, all of the dust particles that had taken up residence in her curtains were dancing across the sunbeams. It was a beautiful sight, but it did make her think to mention to the maids that they could use a good beating outdoors. Deborah brought her breakfast over to her and placed it across her legs. “I thought you could use some sustenance after your trying night.” Bridget smiled gratefully at her.

  “Thank you very much. You are exactly right.” Bridget looked at the beautiful spread her sister had brought for her. It seemed the kitchen staff had got word of Bridget’s night time adventures, and so had prepared something extra special for her this morning. There was a hearty serving of eggs, a well portioned serving of beans, two slices of toast with jam and butter, some leftover steak and kidney pie from the night before, and finally, much to Bridget’s delight, “a Bath Cake!” she cried. Deborah smiled.

  “I had wondered if Mrs. Paddington had any of those left. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got the last one.” Bridget’s eyes widened with delight at the sight of the buttery, yeasty, seasoned bun that was decorated with caraway comfits. It took all the control that Bridget had in her not to devour the cake first. Instead, she very calmly worke
d away at her eggs and beans, very much looking forward to the cake at the end of her meal.

  “I know that you told me snippets of what happened in the night,” Deborah began asking her, “but I am dying to know more. Were you terrified? Did he try to kidnap or kill you? Did you have to fend him off with a candlestick?” Bridget laughed through her mouthful of toast at her sister’s questions.

  “I’m sorry, are these questions truly coming from the mind of my sister who says she has no time for ‘fanciful stories’?” Bridget asked her sister teasingly. “If they are, I am quite convinced that she does not read them simply because she has a better mind for writing them!” Deborah jokingly gasped at her sister’s remark, and both girls giggled at the idea of Deborah becoming the next great undiscovered female novelist. “No, no, it was far less interesting than that,” Bridget began.

  “I heard someone walking past my door in the night and decided to investigate it. When I came downstairs, there was a stranger standing in the dining room loading some of our items into a bag. We both froze when we saw each other, and then the handsome stranger left out of the window.” Bridget hadn’t realised that she had described the intruder as ‘handsome’ until she saw the look on her sister’s face.

  “Handsome stranger?” Deborah cried. “Bridget, that man broke into our house and stole from us, and you’re referring to him as handsome?” Bridget quickly tried to redeem herself.

  “No, no, no, I didn’t mean handsome, I meant harried, the harried stranger, my apologies, I misspoke.” Bridget gave her sister such a convincing look that she knew if their positions were reversed, Bridget would believe what Deborah was saying. Thankfully, Deborah seemed to believe Bridget as well.

  “Good. I was concerned that I was going to have to give you a serious talking to about your priorities when it came to thieves.” Bridget was so relieved that not only did her sister believe what she’d said, but that she was making a jest about it too, that she laughed much more heartily than she would have done otherwise.

  “Yes, right, that would be most concerning if I found a man that was breaking in to our home alluring; I can see why you were worried!” Bridget reassured her sister. In the back of her mind, however, Bridget knew that there was a great deal of truth in her slip-up. She had thought that the stranger was handsome and daring, but she wouldn’t be revealing that to anyone; not even her sister.

  Later on that afternoon when Bridget had time to dress and collect herself, a constable came to the house to interview the family about the theft. To all the family’s surprise, however, the local magistrate, Lord Philip Nott, accompanied him when he arrived.

  They were all acquainted with Lord Philip, as the Stanhope family land fell under his protection as magistrate. Lord Philip was a kind but strict man: everyone in the district knew that if you made an honest mistake, Lord Philip would be fair but understanding, and if you stepped one toe out of line on purpose, you would pay the price.

  When the constable arrived at the house, Lord Philip followed him closely behind and looked gravely concerned when he spoke with Lord Alymer for the first time. “It is very distressing to me to know that one of our own citizens has had this horrible turn of events befall them,” Lord Philip said seriously as he stood in the entryway. “We will do everything in our power to ensure that the perpetrator of this crime is brought to justice, Lord Alymer.” The two men shook hands heartily.

  “I thank you wholeheartedly for your kindness,” Lord Alymer said. “Your arrival was an unexpected pleasure.” Bridget watched the men hesitantly from the kitchen. As they spoke and the constable stood off to the side, another young man came into view. He looked a great deal like Lord Philip, but was slightly shorter and instead of the Nott family’s characteristic dark hair, this young man had light brown, almost blonde hair.

  The young man looked somewhat shy, standing there in the entryway awkwardly while the two men spoke. As he looked around the small room to give himself something to do, he spotted Bridget, who froze. He had obviously seen her, so there was no point in hiding herself now. She was immediately put at ease by him, though, because the moment he saw her, his mouth broke into a grin and two perfect dimples appeared on his cheeks. She couldn’t help but smile back at him.

  When the two older men finished talking, Lord Philip noticed that the young man was standing in the entryway and followed his gaze to where Bridget stood in the kitchen. “And you must be Lady Bridget,” Lord Philip said, beckoning to her. Bridget came into the hall and curtseyed to him.

  “Good afternoon, Your Lordship.” The three men standing in the hall that weren’t her father all bowed in return.

  “You have grown up a great deal since I saw you last,” Lord Philip remarked. “I am most sorry for the intrusion you had last night, and the scare you had to incur.” Bridget gave him a reassuring smile.

  “Thank you, My Lord.” Bridget didn’t mean to, but her gaze lingered slightly too long on the young man standing behind Lord Philip, and so he turned around and said,

  “Ah! My apologies, you haven’t seen my son in many years. Lady Bridget, this is my son, Lord Miles Nott.” Bridget and Miles curtseyed and bowed to each other. Bridget was delighted to know that this handsome young man was Lord Philip’s son. “It is a shame that my eldest son, Geoffrey, could not attend as well - my apologies. He was called to London on business at the last minute; otherwise he would have been here to give his condolences as well.” Bridget noticed that Miles’ face changed completely at the mention of his older brother. His face now appeared far stormier than it had just a few moments prior. Bridget wondered if perhaps the relationship between the two brothers was not amicable.

  “He is a fine young man indeed,” Lord Alymer commented. “I am sure that if he were here as well, my daughters would be greatly comforted by two eligible, handsome young gentlemen.” Lord Alymer gave his daughter a playful look, and Bridget felt as though she might melt into the floor. She didn’t meet Miles’ eye as she was too embarrassed, but she did give her father a rather scathing look.

  “I should agree wholeheartedly,” Lord Philip responded pleasantly. He then turned his attention to Bridget, and added, “Geoffrey has a very keen mind and will run my estate someday. I think he would be most delighted to become better acquainted with two beautiful young women such as your daughters.” Bridget smiled politely back at Lord Philip, and the men adjourned into the sitting room to further discuss the occurrences of last night. The moment they were gone, Bridget ran to her sister’s room and updated her on what had just happened.

  “Lord Miles Nott accompanied him, did you say?” Deborah clarified. Bridget nodded emphatically. “Why, I became acquainted with Lord Miles when I was visiting Lady Kate in Kent.” Bridget looked at her sister quizzically.

  “You did? Why did you not mention anything of him?” As Bridget sat on the edge of her sister’s bed, Deborah continued to work on her needlepoint while sitting in the window.

  “I... didn’t feel that it was pertinent information, at the time,” Deborah replied nonchalantly. Bridget paused and looked harder at her sister. She noticed that since they had begun speaking of Lord Miles, colour had begun to rise in her sister’s cheeks. Bridget gasped.

  “You like him!” she cried. Deborah put down her needlepoint immediately and glared at her sister.

  “I do not like him!” Deborah stated defiantly. “Why would you jump from becoming acquainted with him to liking him with such speed?” Deborah’s words did seem to contradict Bridget’s idea, but her face was a dead giveaway.

  “You may defy me as you like, sister, but I have never seen your cheeks redden as much as they are right now, and so you cannot convince me otherwise!” Bridget cried gleefully. Deborah, however, continued to look displeased.

  “I do not like him. Lord Miles and I had only a few conversations while the others were playing whist and we did not wish to join them. He was a very polite and agreeable gentleman, and I was happy to be in his company.” But even as
Deborah tried to explain herself out of her situation, she implicated herself further with the gleeful smile that she was trying so desperately to keep from her face.

  “Come now, I can tell by your smile that there is something more to this than that,” Bridget encouraged her. She got up from her place on the bed and sat beside her sister in the window. “He’s a very handsome, well-bred gentleman who has a great deal of money and a high position in society. What is so wrong about you divulging your feelings for him?” Bridget carefully watched her sister as she considered how to reply.