you still upset with me?”
His gaze snapped to hers. The music started, and he swept her into the dance. The press of his palm on her back and the feel of his hand entwined with hers sizzled through her with a delicious heat. They were the barest of touches, but it was the slightness that was so inviting. She wanted more. So much more.
“No. You explained, and I think I understand. At least, I hope I do.”
Yes, she’d explained. Partially. What would he do if he knew she stole things? And not only when she wasn’t aware of doing so. She’d developed a skill for picking pockets—and sometimes not even pockets, for she could remove a bracelet from a lady’s wrist without her realizing—and stealing into locked chambers. Sometimes that had been the only way she and Selina had been able to survive. There had been plenty of nights, especially when they were younger, that they went to bed hungry or when they were behind on payments for their lodgings and were forced out into the street. Theft had started as a last resort and then they’d relied on it when their other schemes failed to provide the income they needed.
Their other schemes included Selina working as a fortune-teller, pretending to raise money for a charitable cause, or Beatrix feigning an illness that could be treated with medicine they couldn’t afford. How could she ever tell Tom about any of that? She’d seen how devastated Harry had been when he’d learned the truth and how broken Selina had been as she’d tried to explain the life she’d led to the man she loved.
Seeing them now, happy, about to be married, gave Beatrix hope for her own future. Especially if her father was open to rekindling their relationship. However, that seemed unlikely given he hadn’t even recognized Beatrix. Between that and the disaster in the library, she realized she wanted this evening to be over.
Except for this part. This wonderful, dazzling, beguiling dance. “You’re an excellent dancer,” she said, sounding—and feeling—rather breathless.
“And you’re, thankfully, better than I expected.” The twinkle in his eye made her laugh.
“You flatter me, my lord.” She batted her lashes, and he grinned, moving her in time to the music, their bodies gliding together as one.
She gave herself over so completely that she misstepped. “You spoke too soon,” she murmured, jerking herself into the proper position. The movement made her feel something against her thigh, something in the pocket of her gown.
Oh, God, she’d done it again.
Frustration and anger tore through her. When would she stop? Could she stop? Focusing on the last few hours, she vaguely recalled taking something earlier—a bracelet with a single pearl. Perhaps she could return it. Except she had no idea from whom she’d stolen it. She’d find a place to leave it later so that someone would find it.
She made another error, this time stepping on Tom’s foot.
“Does this mean you want to be rid of me too?” he asked with a hint of humor.
She should say yes. More than that, she should want to be rid of him. She was going to disappoint him. If not tonight—and it was a miracle she hadn’t—then sometime. Perhaps soon. He would learn the truth about her because if she didn’t find a way to control her impulses, her shameful behavior would be exposed. Not only would she be cast out from Society and most certainly spurned by him after, she could very well find herself imprisoned.
The risk of stealing on purpose never bothered her. She was confident in her abilities and in her reasons for thieving. But this was different. When she took things without realizing, it was as if she were another person. A person she didn’t know.
The music built to a finish, and the dance ended.
Tom looked at her in question, his brow furrowed. “What happened there, at the end?”
“I was just thinking how lovely it was to dance with you. Because I don’t know when I’ll see you again.” Her throat tightened.
“You’ll come visit—we’ll sort it out.”
They could, probably, but she wouldn’t. She put her hand on his arm and gently pulled him away from the dance floor. “Tom, you shouldn’t trust me. I haven’t been completely honest with you…and I can’t be. I’m not asking you to understand.”
His brows were still knotted in confusion. “Good, because I don’t.”
She made sure no one was nearby and then spoke in a quiet tone. “I will disappoint you again. Just like I