The year is 1806. Bastard-born jewel thief David Lambert has few rules in his personal life. Never bed the staff, never more than once with the same man, and never, ever, kiss. Attending an aristocratic party and relieving some of the wealthy of their possessions should be easy, but in the space of a weekend, one by one all his rules are shattered by a footman with a secret.<br><br>Jeremy Naylor thought he had found the man of his dreams, the one man who might understand him. Someone passionate, handsome, and respectable. But in one shocking moment his world is destroyed, and he is forced to run for his life.<br><br>Flung together to escape the hangman’s noose, the passion between David and Jeremy burns fiercely. But Jeremy yearns for respectability, and David refuses to admit what lies in his heart. Will they find a way together, or will their differences lead them to the very brink of disaster and the shadow of the gallows?

Thief of Hearts

He relaxed his formal pose and smiled. “I kid you not. Don’t ever call me Albert. Fair warning.”


Jeremy laughed again and shook his head. “Cross my heart.” He made a crossing gesture on his jacket.


David drained the last of his coffee. “We should be able to make London before too long. How are your bruises?”


“A little sore, but I’m sure I will be fine.” He had taken more of the vile draught. He didn’t want to apply more of the salve in case it ruined his new clothes. “Where do you live?”


David appeared to hesitate a moment. “I have a set in Albany. Piccadilly.”


“Albany?” Isn’t that the new place, where Marlborough had a house? I remember Sir Granville talking about it. That’s a bit high in the instep, isn’t it?”


“Exceedingly. I’ll have you know, my consequence is enormous.”


“I can’t go there,” Jeremy said with a disbelieving laugh.


“Because, I’m a footman.” His voice rose an octave at the notion.


Chapter 37