By morning, Max had had far too little sleep to function properly. He’d awoken with Lucy’s scent in the air and memories of her body in his mind. His dreams had been full of her — the way she looked, the way she tasted, the way she laughed. He’d gotten himself off quickly, almost brutally — still half asleep, half dreaming of the woman he wanted and had never believed he could have.

But if the papers unexpectedly proved his claim over Maidenstone, and if the stars were all aligned in his favor…maybe he could have her.

This life — with coffee in bed before morning rides and afternoons spent bantering with Lucy as they dealt with the business of the estate. They would spend their nights engaged in far more pleasurable business, all laughter and sex and sleepy conversation. He’d never been much for cuddling — but he’d never met a woman whose company he’d craved so much, or owned a bed that was made for leisure.

He’d never thought of living anywhere other than a city. But in the wide, wild green of Devonshire, he’d found a kind of peace he’d never known he could have. And Lucy….

But he was still rational enough to know that he was being seduced by a fairy tale as much as he was falling for the real woman behind the dream. It was far too soon to be thinking of waking up next to her, let alone dreaming of building a life with her. She didn’t know anything about his past — or what he’d planned to steal from her. She didn’t know that he’d stolen the Chinese lock from the strongroom so he’d have a better chance to break in later, even as he was kissing her like he would never leave her. Hell, he still didn’t know what secrets her servants were keeping for her. It would be safer to stick to his original plan, not to the half-promises they’d made to each other the night before.

He was tempted, though. As he walked out to the stables a little later to join Titus for their morning ride, he considered whether they could wait a few days to steal everything. He could send Titus to Exeter with additional funds for Atticus. Ferguson’s messenger wouldn’t return from London for another few days. It would surely be safe to stay and see how things developed with Lucy.

He was so enamored with his new plan that he didn’t notice anything amiss when he greeted Titus outside the stables. But as soon as they were mounted and out of earshot of anyone else, Titus said, “Atticus is here.”

“What?” Max said, tightening his grip on the reins so much that his horse nearly threw him.

“Maybe we should’ve talked about this before you got up on that horse,” Titus said, eyeing his form. “The gelding already lost his bollocks — he doesn’t deserve you riding him to death.”

Max tried to relax. “Why is Atticus here?”

Titus handed him a piece of paper. Max recognized the spidery cursive before the paper was fully in his hand.

And just like that, his daydream vanished.

“How in the devil did Durrant find us?” Max asked.

“Atticus’ll tell you. We’re meeting him in the Maidenstone clearing. Antonia is bringing Cress. It was the only place I could think of. If we hear someone coming, we can stall for time while Atticus hides.”

Max nodded. He unfolded the paper. It was addressed to Maximus Vale, but the “Vale” had been crossed out and replaced with “Briarley.”

Fuck.

Durrant was the only person in London who knew both Max’s criminal background and his real last name. After Durrant had forced him to work for him and Max had begun thieving in earnest, he’d quickly decided not to taint his family name with gossip of his misdeeds. Everyone knew him only as Max. Which meant that no one would realize, necessarily, that the thief they used to know was on his way to becoming the next Lord Maidenstone.

But if Durrant went to the press with an anonymous story about everything he knew of Max’s past, and Ferguson or the House of Lords tried to block his claim as a result, it would ruin everything.

Any one of his previous crimes were enough to see him executed. It wasn’t the noose that scared him, though.

How would Lucy look at him if she knew he was a criminal?

He was getting ahead of himself. He spread the paper out, deciphering Durrant’s handwriting.

My dear Max — or should I say Lord Maidenstone? Your circumstances have improved dramatically since the last time I saw you in my courtroom. It would be so unfortunate if gossip spread about your previous background. Especially since I can only assume that there are some interesting alterations to church records that Titus might hang for. I’d make sure to arrange things so all your siblings swing before you do — would be better to give you the chance to say goodbye, wouldn’t it?

I also heard Miss Briarley’s declaration at the mausoleum. Whoever your future countess is would be very disappointed in your past, I’m sure. Shame to break a woman’s heart or reputation by conning her into marrying a criminal.

But I’ll stay silent about all of it if I can count on your support from the House of Lords. There are many matters where it would help to have an earl in my pocket. I’ll be watching proceedings to make sure it all unfolds as planned.

Yours, etc. - Durrant

“Well, that’s direct,” Max said. “Did you read it already?”

Titus nodded. “I’d like to see him try to pin a forgery on me. Every one of ’em was perfect.”

Max laughed. “You’re always confident, aren’t you?”

“You have to have confidence in this game,” Titus said. Then he looked at Max. “What are you going to do about Durrant?”

“I don’t know,” he said shortly, shoving the paper into his waistcoat.

Durrant had always known how to control him. He wouldn’t let Max claim an earldom without demanding a steep — perhaps impossible — price. It was bad enough that he could threaten Max’s siblings. If Max married Lucy, it was only a matter of time before Durrant would threaten her as well.

Max couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t bring Durrant into her safe, well-ordered life. The life he could have shared with her if his past crimes weren’t so insurmountable.

But it felt too cruel to have had that dream — to have almost convinced himself that his dream could come true — only to have Durrant crush it immediately.

They navigated the forest in silence. When they neared the clearing, Titus reined in his horse. “You might as well stop here, Max. I’ve been here before. Horses won’t enter the clearing.”

Max dropped to the ground and walked to the edge of the clearing, letting Titus manage the horses. It was a well-maintained, nearly perfect circle, with short grass and scattered wildflowers carpeting the ground. The stone at the middle of the clearing was a single pillar, curved vaguely in the shape of a woman, almost uncanny in a place with no other rocks.

He wasn’t superstitious. But he said a prayer under his breath before he left the safety of the woods.

The rest of his siblings joined him a few moments later. Antonia and Cress stepped into the clearing from the nearby footpath. And then Atticus emerged from the opposite side.

Cress flung herself at Atticus, hugging him fiercely. Antonia and Max exchanged a silent look — Antonia didn’t look happy. They didn’t talk of business at first; instead, they spent a few moments hugging Atticus, hearing how he’d fared in Exeter, and telling him some of the wildest things they’d seen at Maidenstone Abbey.

They couldn’t gossip forever, though. Before they were ready, Max cleared his throat. “We should get to business. Atticus, how did Durrant find you?”

Atticus shrugged. “I haven’t any idea. I was careful not to be too noticeable. I mostly kept to my room and read. But then a boy showed up at the inn asking for someone of my description. I thought it might be a message from you. He gave me the note from Durrant instead.”

Max frowned. “If Durrant followed us from London, why wouldn’t he have approached us while I was still in Exeter? Why wait until now?”

“I wondered that all the way here. The note came last night, but I waited until first light to ride here — no sense breaking my neck on the road and leaving you without any warning that Durrant is in the neighborhood.”

“Were you followed?” Antonia interjected.

Atticus shrugged again. “I rode east for half an hour first, then changed horses and clothes and looped back around the outskirts of Exeter before coming south. I didn’t see any sign that I was being followed, but I’m not as good at this as the rest of you.”

Atticus didn’t have as much experience with breaking and entering as the older siblings did, but he was highly intelligent — if he didn’t think he’d been followed, Max believed him. “That was a good strategy, Atticus. Any thoughts on why or how he might have found you?”

“Word has spread like wildfire that a new Briarley has arrived at Maidenstone to claim the title. The gossip was all over Exeter last night when Octavia Briarley left in a rush. Durrant’s note arrived right after that. Maybe he knows you’re about to escape his clutches?”

“But Durrant never should have guessed that Max was the man who was trying to claim the title,” Antonia said. “He never knew our real last name.”

“Durrant knew,” Max said. “I said it in court when I went up in front of him the first time — I didn’t stop using it until after I started working for him. If gossip reached Exeter that Maximus Vale was here, he’d know it was me.”

Antonia looked like she might be sick. “We shouldn’t have come here at all. We should have taken our chances on a new city with different names.”

Max shook his head. “This is still a better plan. But escape will be tough now that he knows where we are. I still can’t believe he tracked us even as far as Exeter. It sounds like he knew to look for us there.”

They all mulled that over in silence. But it didn’t really matter how Durrant had found them. Max wasn’t surprised that Durrant had done everything in his power to track them down. He had only let Max out of his previous “employment” grudgingly. When Max had reunited with Antonia, he’d known she wouldn’t be safe with the bulk of Durrant’s crew, so he’d decided to strike out on his own. Durrant hadn’t been happy about it. He’d let Max go, with a warning to stay away from Durrant’s territories — one Max had happily complied with.

Durrant seemed evil, but in the end he was pragmatic. He used fear and violence to keep people in line, but ultimately everything came down to power and money. He’d let Max go when it wasn’t worth fighting to keep him. He wouldn’t give Max another chance to escape now that he had something to blackmail Max with.

“The way I see it, we have two choices,” Max said slowly. “The safer choice is that we stick to the original plan, steal everything tonight, and leave England on the next ship we can find.”

“That’s my vote,” Antonia said.

Titus frowned. “What’s the second choice?”

Max had been thinking of arguments in favor of this choice all morning. Now, with Durrant’s shadow looming over him, he shook his head. “It’s not a good strategy. But we could stay here, wait until I become Lord Maidenstone, and then deal with Durrant.”

Cressida and Atticus both gaped at him. Titus nodded immediately. “You would be the best thief who ever lived. That’s my vote.”

“No one could know I was a thief,” Max pointed out.

“Sure, but we would know. You can tell your grandchildren someday, when you’re too old and doddering to be believed.”

The thought of grandchildren had never moved him before. But the thought of Lucy’s grandchildren running through the vast halls of Maidenstone Abbey almost took his breath away.

In that future, it wasn’t just his immediate family that would be secure. His children, his grandchildren, perhaps even generations beyond that — they would never have to fear the life he and his siblings had been forced to live.

Antonia clearly didn’t see that future. She shook her head almost violently. “You can’t escape Durrant. It’s all well and good to playact at being the earl for a few days, but blood always tells in the end. They’ll catch you eventually. Or Durrant will rat you out. Better to run and be safe than to stay here and die because you got too greedy.”

“But what if we’re really Briarleys?” Max asked.

“What if we’re really unicorns?” Antonia retorted, her voice dripping with disdain. “I’d think you would know better than to chase Papa’s imaginings.”

“I thought they were imaginings,” Max said. “But you won’t believe what we found last night.”

He explained the Briarley Bible and the evidence it showed to support their claim. He couldn’t leave out Lucy’s role in finding it, but he found himself not mentioning the strongroom and the Briarley rubies. If his siblings noticed that he evaded certain details, they didn’t call him out on it.

When he was finished, Titus whistled. “It’s incredible.”

“It’s unbelievable,” Antonia said. “But even if it’s true, why would anyone give the earldom to you? The aristocrats will close ranks. They won’t accept you.”

“Lucy thinks they’ll accept me.”

“Is this about the title, or about her?” Antonia asked.

“Both, if I’m being honest.”

That stunned them all into silence.

Finally, Atticus cleared his throat. “I don’t know anything about Lucy, but if you think she’s worth risking Durrant’s wrath for, that’s good enough for me. I can always leave England alone if I have to.”

“No,” Max said. “Either we all stay, or we all leave.”

Atticus didn’t back down. “A year ago I didn’t know you existed. Cress and I were going to go to Canada if I couldn’t find a job here or if she couldn’t marry well. I’d make a much better clerk than I do a thief.”

He grinned as he said it. Max remembered the night Atticus and Cressida had run back to their flat in London, winded and scared after Durrant had nearly caught them breaking into one of his houses. Atticus had wanted to prove himself worthy of being included in Max and Antonia’s missions — but he hadn’t shirked responsibility when it all went to hell. He would have given himself up to Durrant and tried to keep the rest of them out of it if Max hadn’t insisted that they would all go on the run together.

Atticus was both bright and loyal — and entirely unsuited for life on London’s streets. “I probably should have let you go to Canada a year ago rather than bringing you to the city,” Max said.

Atticus and Cressida glanced at each other, then quickly glanced away.

“What does that mean?” Max asked.

“What does what mean?” Atticus asked, trying to sound innocent.

Cressida laughed. “You really are terrible at subterfuge, Atticus. That look means we’ve both thought about going to Canada at least a dozen times this year. Not because we weren’t happy to have all of you,” she added quickly. “I was thrilled when you came to retrieve us after our cousin died. But it was all such an adjustment. And when you drained your savings to keep Atticus in school and to rent a flat in a better neighborhood for the sake of my reputation…I think I felt guilty more than anything else. You and Antonia and Titus were better off without us.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Antonia said. “You were safer in the country than you could ever be with us.”

“Either way,” Cressida said. “If Atticus and I go to Canada and you tell Durrant that we’re gone, maybe he won’t retaliate against you.”

They’d mentioned Canada before, early in Max’s planning, but he’d dismissed the argument out of hand. His feelings hadn’t changed. “Durrant won’t give up his chance to get me back. He barely let me stop working for him the first time. I appreciate your willingness to take responsibility, but it won’t solve the problem.”

Antonia and Titus exchanged a look. Max had been focused on Cress and Atticus, but he realized then that his other siblings were unusually silent.

“Are the two of you planning to run off to Canada as well?” he asked drily.

“Canada’s too cold,” Titus said.

“And nowhere is far enough away from Durrant,” Antonia added. “You’re going to have to kill him if you want him to leave you alone, you know. He won’t let you go this time.”

Max held up his hands. “I’m not a killer. And I thought the plan was to burglarize Maidenstone. Why have the choices suddenly become running away to Canada or killing Durrant?”

Antonia shrugged. “I was sparing your delicate sensibilities before. But I think we all knew that we had to have backup plans if burglarizing Maidenstone failed. Atticus and Cress’s plan was to go to Canada. My plan was to remove Durrant from the equation. If money can’t buy him off, I’ll find another way to get rid of him.”

Max frowned. “I wouldn’t ask you to take on that responsibility.”

“I know. But you’ve saved all of us more than once. You could let us help you instead.”

“It’s my duty to keep you safe,” he said. Of all the questions he had — whether to stay, whether to leave, whether to try to keep Lucy or whether to let Lucy go before she discovered that he was a thief — the one immutable fact was that he had to look out for his siblings. “I couldn’t save you when we were young, but I can save you now.”

They all looked at him with something bordering on pity. “You deserve to be safe too, Max,” Cress said. “And what were you supposed to do when you were twelve? Manage a tea shop by yourself? Keep me and Atticus toddling around you on leading strings while you were selling tea and collecting accounts?”

“I could have at least kept Titus and Antonia and me together,” he said.

If he hadn’t been so clumsy in his first attempts to steal extra food for his siblings, he wouldn’t have been caught by Durrant. He would have made it back to the workhouse before Titus and Antonia were sent to other positions. They might have starved if he hadn’t stolen food, but at least they would have been together.

“You know that’s unlikely,” Titus said. “Just be glad you found us again. Besides, I’m more concerned about what we’re going to do next, not what happened when we were practically infants.”

Antonia nodded her agreement. “Cress and I are going to be missed if we don’t go back to the house soon. It’s already unusual that we left so early in the morning. Should we vote on our options?”

“Yes,” Max said. “But I won’t let anyone run away to Canada alone. And before you suggest it again, I’m not killing Durrant. That leaves our original choices — we leave tonight, or I stay to claim the title and risk dealing with Durrant later. What are your votes?”

Atticus raised a hand. “Before I vote, can I ask if this Lucy will be coming with us?”

Max could see Lucy standing on a ship, fearless in the face of the waves. He could see her laughing as she walked down the streets of a foreign port, seizing the adventure she claimed she’d always wanted.

But he could also see her standing at the top of Maidenstone’s spire, her hair whipping around her in the wind as she looked out over the land she loved. If he asked her to choose between him and Maidenstone, he knew her answer.

It would never be the answer he wanted.

“If we leave, it will be without Lucy,” Max said.

“Then I vote to stay,” Atticus said. “At least until I meet her and see what all the fuss is about.”

Antonia shook her head as though she was deeply disappointed. “I should’ve known you’d be a romantic,” she said to Atticus, sounding disgusted. “I vote to leave. Not because I don’t like Lucy — she’d probably make a fine wife if you’re wanting an idle rich lady. But Durrant won’t be put off because you’re suddenly a fancy lord. If anything, he’ll have even more ways to ruin you.”

Max nodded. He didn’t like it, but they didn’t argue during voting. “Cress?”

“I like Miss Briarley,” she said slowly. “She was lovely to me. But she was the only one who was.”

“I thought you were talking to Lord Anthony last night,” he asked. He felt a little hum of anger start to build, but he kept his voice mild. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. Lord Anthony is a gentleman. But the snobbery rolls off them in waves, Max. Even if you’re the earl, we’ll never fit in with them. They’ll never accept anyone who stinks of the shop, no matter how rich we are. We might be happier taking as many jewels as we can and setting ourselves up as merchants somewhere else. You wouldn’t have a title, but wealth can buy you acceptance with other merchants. It never can with the aristocrats.”

“So you want to leave?” he asked.

Cress nodded. “I’m sorry, Max. I know you like her.”

Max waved his hand, pretending it didn’t matter. “Titus?”

“You know my vote,” Titus said. “Claim the earldom and thumb your nose at all those arseholes when you take your seat in the House of Lords. You have a thick enough skin to survive it and your kids will thank you for it. Not to mention us.”

The vote was tied. It rarely came out like that. Usually the vote was a formality, since they always hammered out the details of their agreements long before anything came to a vote.

They all looked to him. And for all that they had claimed earlier that they were ready to go off to Canada or take care of Durrant without him, he knew that they expected him to make this decision.

He looked past them to the Maidenstone. If the superstitions were true, and if he really was a Briarley, one would think that the Maidenstone might give him some sort of sign. His decision would have profound effects — not just for his siblings, but for the title and the estate.

And, of course, for Lucy. How could he stay and risk Durrant hurting her? How could he look her in the eye and tell her that he was a thief?

But if he stole everything on his way out the door, she’d know he was a thief anyway.

The clearing was silent — almost eerily so. He wasn’t a woodsman, but he thought there should have been more birdsong. Even the horses had stopped stamping their hooves. Maybe the Maidenstone was waiting for an answer. Maybe Max should take that as a sign.

But this wasn’t a fairy tale. In real life, the thief could never win the princess.

“Pack your bags,” he said. “Antonia, Cress, meet me in the chapel at a quarter past midnight. Titus, Atticus, have the carriage ready for loading by one. We’re leaving tonight, and we’re taking everything we can with us.”