Free The Robber Bride by Jerrica Knight-Catania Page A

could only be her—Fin went to the small window in his studio and looked down into the street. Woodmore . Damn him, he meant to court her, apparently. And Victoria meant to make him jealous in the process.
    Damned chit .   She didn’t let anyone court her. I mean to remain unwed, she always said. This was a ploy, and Fin knew it. As if his theory weren’t sound enough, Victoria slipped her arm through Woodmore’s and then tilted her head back to look at his house.
    Their eyes locked. Damn it! She saw him. How did she know he’d be up here in the studio, anyhow?
    Fin backed away from the window, hoping he was wrong. Perhaps she hadn’t really seen him after all. Maybe she’d only looked in that direction and the sunlight’s reflection prevented her from seeing that anyone was at the window at all.
    “Simmons!” He strode across the room, calling for his valet in a booming yell. “Simmons!”
    Simmons appeared on the landing that led to the studio only moments later. “I do respond to the bell, sir.” The man hated to be bellowed at, but Fin didn’t have the patience to worry about silly little bells just then.
    “I need you to stand in the window.”
    “I beg your pardon, sir.” Simmons looked confused.
    “I’m going to go down into the street, and I need to see if I can see you from there.” Fin started out the door, but Simmons stopped him.
    “How close to the window, sir?”
    Fin rolled his eyes. “Just . . . here, it will be easier to show you.” He strode to the window and found the exact position he’d been in while spying on Victoria.
    Spying. That didn’t seem to be the right word. She had walked by his house on purpose. If he was spying, it was her fault. She made him do it.
    Good Lord, was he a child?
    “So, like this, sir?”
    Fin moved Simmons a bit to the left and pushed his head forward. “There. That’s it. Now don’t move!”
    Fin ran down the two flights of stairs until he reached the main floor and then stopped. He needed to make sure Victoria and Woodmore were out of sight before he went out into the street. In the distance, he could just barely make out Victoria’s parasol, and then they turned a corner and were gone. Fin darted out to the sidewalk to the precise spot Victoria had been when she turned to look at him. He looked up.
    Damn. He could see Simmons clear as day. There was no doubt in his mind that she had seen him. How dreadfully annoying.
    Even so, it didn’t change anything. She could flaunt her suitors in his face all she wanted. What did he care? It wasn’t as if he had any interest in her in that way. Brother and sister—that was their relationship practically. If she sought to make him jealous, it wouldn’t work. There was nothing of which he should be jealous. Nothing at all.
    And until she was willing to confess what he was sure must have been illegal activities to him, their friendship was on hold.

Eleven
     
    Two evenings later, Victoria stood at the edge of yet another ballroom, flanked by her brother and Mr. Woodmore . She was a bit fidgety this evening. All right, she was fidgety every evening, but tonight was worse than usual.
    Tonight was the night she planned to rob Woodmore , but she was beginning to have second thoughts about this particular robbery. He’d been so kind to her in the last few days. He had called on her twice now, and he was always incredibly complimentary.
    Unlike some other men she knew.
    Though he lacked a title, Woodmore was a gentleman in every other way possible. He was kind and generous, handsome, and his dancing was superior. Victoria’s mother was elated at her new courtship, though she suspected her mother would have been happy with almost any courtship at all at this point.
    Tom, however, looked as if he wanted to skin Woodmore alive. She couldn’t be sure why. It seemed odd that Tom would care at all who she set her cap for, but his scowl and general attitude toward the man were unmistakably filled with contempt.