Page 80 of The Swindler’s Daughter

That pulled a laugh from him. “If there is anything I am not feeling at this moment, it is cavalier. That was terrifying.”

I buried my face in his neck, anxious to draw in his warmth and strength. Needing to feel the reality of him and me, here in the open air, together.

He kissed the top of my head and banded his hands tightly around me. “We did a good thing, Miri. But I hope we never have to do it again.”

I let myself smile at that. “Isabel would be proud of you.”

“I know she would…”

His hesitance made me look up.

“But I also hope you’re proud of me,” he said, his eyes vulnerable.

I kissed his foolish, doubting mouth with soft reassurance. Then I pulled back so he could see the truth in my eyes when I said, “I don’t think I could be any prouder.”

He let out a soft sigh and then wrapped me in a warm hug. “I love you,” he murmured into my hair.

Tears jumped to my eyes, immediately spilling over. I swallowed. “Do you really?”

“Most assuredly, my little pickpocket.”

I laughed with joy, ecstatic to see the glorious smile on his mouth when he pulled back. I cupped his jaw with my hands, loving the feeling of his stubbled cheeks against my palms. “I love you as well,” I confessed, “my reluctant thief.”

“I’m hoping I’m a retired thief,” he said and then kissed me soundly.

***

When Hunter heard of our exploits, he was a mess. Part angry, part horrified, part exasperated. I allowed him to yell at me for as long as he liked, knowing that it was his brotherly duty to tell me just how foolish and reckless I’d been. I hoped it made him feel better.

And it made me feel better, enduring his reprimand. It made me feel like I’d paid some sort of penance for my crimes.

Laws, I was a criminal. A pardoned criminal, but a criminal still. Again. I only cringed a little at the thought.

The duke did indeed realize that he had not asked us about the stolen goods. A note was sent to Sutton, requiring the presence of Rowan, Oliver, and myself at Bridgefield. The tone of the note was not alarming, but I still went with a great deal of trepidation. Fortunately, my fear came to nothing. When we arrived, several of the duke’s guards accompanied us to where we had hidden the wagon. Then we did our best to identify what items might need to be returned to which villagers. After that, it was left in their hands to determine what to do with the money, though I did hear them talking about utilizing the help of Father Tucker, which was a great relief. He would do right by the people.

It surprised me when Father Tucker decided that the right thing was to have us help return everything. We spent several afternoons holed up in the church, helping Father Tucker divide the spoils for return to the villagers.

Those days of taking pouch after pouch of money and items to whatever person Father Tucker sent us to were surreal.

When I returned a pouch of coins and arrowheads to Wick, it took him several moments of stunned silence to collect himself. Then he came around his table and wrapped me in a bear hug. “Look what you’ve done, lass!” He laughed and I laughed along with him. “It’s an incredible thing. Thank you. Thank you.”

Garnet’s response was just as effusive but more dramatic. She kissed both of Oliver’s cheeks, making him flame bright red, before tossing a handful of spices and several talismans into a bowl so that she could chant over them.

Yes, it was definitely surreal, but it was also healing.

I didn’t realize until I was handing back the money that had been stolen—receiving hugs and tears and cries of relief and joy—that I still carried a great deal of shame for what I’d done when I was a child. But doing this—having the opportunity to reverse the process, to give instead of take, to lift the burden instead of adding to it, left me humbled and grateful.

***

Going back to life without the threat of Reeve and without the master and mistress in residence was a change. One that Rowan and I took advantage of. There were several moments when I doubted that what he and I had built among the stress and adventure of the last months would last. I thought perhaps he would tire of me or that I would find him less interesting. But that never happened. His face lit up each time he saw me. I spent a number of meals with him and his parents in their cottage as I got to know them better. He always seemed proud to have me near, whether we were with his parents, with the other boys, or by ourselves. And the ache to be near him that had plagued me didn’t ever really go away. I still ached to be near him, to spend more time with him. But fortunately, that hunger was often quenched by the amount of time we were able to spend together—by the way he looked at me, the way he kissed my hand for no reason, and the way he boasted to others about my skills with a bow and arrow.

But while we had more time on our hands, it was obvious that John and the others who worked at Bridgefield had far less. Ansel was bored and lonely without Gretchen’s company. He and Oliver did their best to spar and train, but it was different without John, Tyson, and Gretchen there to encourage and challenge them.

It was more than a full week before John was able to come over. Rowan and I were lying out in the meadow, eating apples as we watched the horses grazing, when I saw John walking toward the house.

“Look,” I said to Rowan. “John’s back.”

He turned around to look. “He doesn’t have his staff with him.”