My Favorite Thief Read Free Page A

steps backward. The carriage, however, was not forthcoming.
    â€œSend Miss Kent’s carriage over,” repeated Harrison heatedly.
“Now!”
    â€œI heard ye the first time, ye soddin’ piece o’ scum,” barked a furious voice. “An’ if ye so much as bend a wee hair on the lass’s head while I’m bringin’ it to ye, I’ll be scrapin’ yer cowardly flesh from yer thievin’ bones and choppin’ it fine afore I grind ye into haggis!”
    Harrison watched in astonishment as an ancient little man scuttled as fast as his skinny legs would carry him toward the line of carriages on the street. Displaying a remarkable agility for his advanced years, he hauled himself up into the driver’s seat of one vehicle, snapped his reins against the horse’s hindquarters, and sent the carriage lurching forward.
    â€œThat’s Oliver,” Charlotte whispered to Harrison as the carriage barreled toward them. “He is very protective of me.”
    â€œWonderful,” drawled Harrison.
    The carriage clattered to a stop directly in front of the entrance. Oliver cast Harrison a murderous look before regarding Charlotte with concern. “Are ye hurt, lass?”
    â€œNo, Oliver,” Charlotte assured him gently. “I’m fine.”
    â€œYe’d best make sure she stays that way, ye spineless cur,” he warned Harrison, “if ye’re thinkin’ ye’d like to keep yerself in one fine piece.”
    The idea of the wiry little Scotsman fighting him was preposterous. But Harrison recognized the old man’s overwhelming fear for the girl pinned against him, and he knew better than to trifle with the elder’s emotions.
    He had learned that strength born of fear and frustration could be far more dangerous than that of mere youth and muscle.
    â€œI give you my word that Miss Kent will not come to any harm as long as you do exactly as I say,” he told him.
    Oliver snorted in disgust. “Canna trust the word of a rogue who’d snatch a helpless young lass an’ push a pistol to her ribs,” he spat contemptuously. “Ye thieves today have nae honor, an’ that’s the sad truth o’ the matter. Now in my day, ye’d nae see me wavin’ a gun about—”
    â€œPlease, Oliver,” interrupted Charlotte. “We have to go
now
.”
    Oliver glowered at Harrison. “All right then, ye wicked rascal, see if ye’ve enough manners in ye to help Miss Charlotte into the carriage, an’ we’ll be off.”
    Relaxing his hold upon her slightly, Harrison reached up to open the carriage door.
    â€œNo!”
cried Charlotte suddenly.
    Harrison turned just in time to see a nattily attired gentleman clutching a pistol in front of the doorway from which he and Miss Kent had just emerged. One of Lord Chadwick’s guests had not abandoned the house after all, he realized numbly. Instead he had hidden inside, waiting for the perfect moment to race out and shoot the infamous Dark Shadow in the back. The man’s beefy hands were trembling visibly, his brow jeweled with perspiration as he leveled the pistol at Harrison.
    Harrison wrapped himself around Charlotte, enveloping her in the hard shield of his body just as the weapon exploded. Pain ripped into him, burning a path through flesh and bone. Holding Charlotte fast, he jerked open the carriage door.
    â€œStop, thief!” roared his assailant. “Or I’ll shoot again!”
    His shoulder on fire, Harrison whipped around, shoving Charlotte behind his back. He brandished Lady Chadwick’s hairbrush menacingly through the fabric of his coat. “Throw down your weapon or I’ll shoot your bloody—”
    Another shot exploded through the darkness.
    Harrison froze, knowing if he flinched the bullet would strike his protective young charge instead.
    For a moment no one moved, anxiously waiting to see if the infamous Dark