Read All Through the Night for Free Online Page A

Sophia had attended.
    Perhaps she was mistaken, she thought. Perhaps her preoccupation with the austere colonel simply made her see him everywhere. She bit the inside of her cheek, willing the little pain to make her come to her senses. It didn’t work, just as it hadn’t worked for the last two weeks.
    She simply could not forget his kiss.
    Even the memory of it was enough to ... to excite her, she admitted shamefully. She knew why—at least she thought she knew why. He’d awakened her basest appetites and introduced her to the temptation of pure physical gratification. His kiss hadn’t meant “I love you, Anne” or “I adore you, Anne” or “Do you love me, Anne?” It meant “I desire you.” It asked nothing of her but her body’s involvement. And that’s all she wanted—probably all she’d ever been capable of—animal rutting. She should be ashamed.
    But she was tired of shame, exhausted by the knowledge that if she’d loved Matthew, truly loved him in the same pure, noble manner in which he’d loved her, he would be alive today. He wouldn’t have volunteered for front-line duty, killing himself and condemning his crew along with him.
    “Good God, Anne,” Sophia said suddenly. Relieved to have a diversion, Anne looked around.
    “Will you look at Lady Pons-Burton’s bracelet. How deliciously vulgar.” Sophia slanted a caustic look at her. “Do you suppose the gems can be real?”
    Oh, undoubtedly they were real. Anne’s father had taught her how to spot paste from real stones, even at a distance.
    “I declare I will have one just like it when I’m wed,” Sophia said, adding in a reverent voice, “It must be worth a fortune.”
    “Three fortunes,” Anne murmured. Enough to keep a dozen families fed for a dozen years, she thought, recognizing anew the bitter disparity between these people and those seeking a night’s refuge at the Charitable Society for Soldiers’ Relief. With anger came a wave of disquiet.
    She hadn’t planned on becoming a thief when she came to London to act as Sophia’s companion. The skills her father had taught her as a child had been games, a means of passing the time while her mother was away visiting her “top-lofty” relatives. The stories her father had told her about Blind Tom, Rum Mary, and the Prince of London’s Thieves were just stories.
    She hadn’t found out they’d been real until the day she’d found her father’s diary. Confronted, her father had sworn her to secrecy and then told her the truth; he was the Prince of Thieves. She’d been shocked, appalled, and, yes, thrilled. She’d begged her father to tell her more, teach her more. It had been such a lark to discover her own father had once been a notorious criminal.
    Her father, perhaps a touch bored with life as a country squire, had happily complied. He’d taught her everything. It had been their secret, a wink between a father and daughter. She’d never expected to use the knowledge he’d imparted—
    “Couldn’t you?” Sophia demanded stridently. Anne looked over. Her husband’s young cousin regarded her with palpable irritation.
    “Excuse me?” Anne asked.
    “I said that you are wealthy enough to buy a bracelet like Lady Pons-Burton’s for each of your wrists. Though heaven knows why you would buy jewelry when you won’t even buy yourself a decent gown.” Sophia gazed with frank contempt at Anne’s gown and looked away, clearly signaling she’d had enough of the conversation.
    Anne did not look down at the muddy lavender gown. She knew its shape quite well, just as she knew she could have easily replaced it if she’d wanted. Upon Matthew’s death she’d inherited a fortune, money she could not bring herself to spend on herself and for which she had no other purpose. She had no real home to maintain. The country manor where she had lived with Matthew had never been more than a way station in their pursuit of pleasure; she’d sold it soon after his death. So she’d decided