To Steal a Heart (The Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency Book #1) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Jen Turano

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200 pages

English

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After a childhood as a street thief, Gabriella Goodhue thought she'd put her past behind her until a fellow resident at her boardinghouse is unjustly accused of theft. In the middle of breaking into a safe that holds the proof to prove her friend's innocence, Gabriella is interrupted by Nicholas Quinn, the man she once considered her best friend--until he abandoned her.After being taken under the wing of a professor who introduced him into society and named him as heir, Nicholas is living far removed from his childhood life of crime. As a favor to a friend, Nicholas agreed to help clear the name of an innocent woman, never imagining he'd be reunited with the girl he thought lost to him forever.As Gabriella and Nicholas are thrown together into one intrigue after another, their childhood affection grows into more, but their newfound feelings are tested when truths about their past are revealed and danger follows their every step.

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Historical romance

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	17 novembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493428137
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0384€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Jen Turano
L ADIES OF D ISTINCTION
Gentleman of Her Dreams: A L ADIES OF D ISTINCTION Novella from With All My Heart Romance Collection
A Change of Fortune
A Most Peculiar Circumstance
A Talent for Trouble
A Match of Wits
A C LASS OF T HEIR O WN
After a Fashion
In Good Company
Playing the Part
A PART FROM THE C ROWD
At Your Request: An A PART FROM THE C ROWD Novella from All For Love Romance Collection
Behind the Scenes
Out of the Ordinary
Caught by Surprise
A MERICAN H EIRESSES
Flights of Fancy
Diamond in the Rough
Storing Up Trouble
Grand Encounters: A Harvey House Brides Collection Novella from Serving Up Love
T HE B LEECKER S TREET I NQUIRY A GENCY
To Steal a Heart
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2020 by Jennifer L. Turano
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-2813-7
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Author is represented by Natasha Kern Literary Agency.
Dedication
For Rachael Wing,
who stole a piece of my heart with her infectious laugh and enthusiasm for life, becoming a delightful friend in the process!
Love you!
Jen
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Jen Turano
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
Epilogue
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
CHAPTER One

N OVEMBER 1886 N EW Y ORK C ITY
It was quickly becoming evident that she, Miss Gabriella Goodhue, might very well be arrested in the not-too-distant future, and all because she’d convinced herself that sneaking into a high-society costume ball would be a relatively easy feat, given her past life as a street thief.
Unfortunately, over the thirteen years she’d been off the streets, her skills with planning a covert campaign had obviously suffered. Not once had she considered that dressing as a gentleman dandy from the French aristocracy would garner attention from young ladies interested in making her acquaintance, but that’s exactly what it had done.
It was only a matter of time until one of those ladies realized Gabriella was not a gentleman, which would then most assuredly lead to some unpleasant questions.
“I’m completely baffled about your identity, sir,” a young lady dressed in an elaborate peacock costume said, sauntering closer to Gabriella. “It was very naughty of you to paint your face so effectively, but could you possibly be Mr. Hammond Gregor?” Her gaze traveled over Gabriella’s form, one Gabriella had cleverly stuffed. “You seem quite fit, and Mr. Gregor is known to spend an inordinate amount of time in the boxing ring.”
“It would ruin the mystery of the evening if I divulged my identity too soon,” Gabriella returned in a raspy voice that she could only pray sounded suitably masculine.
Another lady, this one dressed as a princess, tittered. “Oh, I do love a good mystery and adore puzzling out clues.” She sent Gabriella a waggle of glove-covered fingers. “Speaking of mysteries, have you read the latest by Montague Moreland? I found it to be a most riveting read.”
“Did someone just mention Montague Moreland?”
Glancing to the right, Gabriella blinked, and blinked again, hoping that the sight of Miss Daphne Beekman wandering up to join them would turn out to be a mirage, because of the two jobs Daphne was responsible for that evening, drawing attention to herself wasn’t one of them.
Remaining inconspicuous until Gabriella could steal away to the second floor had been Daphne’s first order of business, at which time Daphne’s second job would take effect, that of acting as a lookout to make sure no one happened in on Gabriella as she tried to break into a safe that certainly didn’t belong to her.
In the past, Gabriella would have had her choice of competent assistants, but since she’d abandoned her life of crime at the ripe old age of twelve, she no longer had experienced criminals at her beck and call, which was why she’d had to settle for Daphne, an unlikely partner if there ever was one.
Daphne Beekman was a recluse by choice, who barely left the attic room she rented from Eunice Holbrooke and preferred to spend her time with the imaginary characters who stomped around her mind at all hours of the day and night.
The only reason Daphne was out this evening was because she was the lone resident at the Holbrooke boardinghouse who fit into the Cleopatra costume that Eunice, the instigator of tonight’s adventure, had pulled out of a ratty trunk she’d drug in from the carriage house. Because there’d not been time to procure another costume, Daphne had reluctantly allowed herself to be pressed into service, but only because she felt the mission that needed to be accomplished was worth leaving the safe confines of her attic.
Since Daphne was not a lady accustomed to participating in social conversations, why she’d decided to join in on a conversation now, with the daunting circumstances they were already facing, was beyond Gabriella’s comprehension.
“Are you a reader of Montague Moreland?” the lady dressed as a princess asked Daphne.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Daphne said.
Gabriella had no idea how Daphne would expand on that curious statement, but she prayed Daphne wouldn’t divulge too much—such as the fact that Daphne was Montague Moreland.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” said the peacock lady, which had Daphne’s green eyes widening, as if she’d just realized that inserting herself into a conversation was going to require a certain amount of proper discourse, something Daphne struggled with in the best of situations.
“Ah . . . right,” Daphne said before she simply stopped talking and smiled weakly back at the peacock lady.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wright,” the peacock lady returned. “I’m Miss Emma McArthur, and this is my friend Miss Rosaline Blossom.”
Daphne’s smile faltered as confusion flickered through her eyes before her mouth made an O of surprise. “But that’s brilliant,” she muttered right before she began fumbling with her reticule, pulling out a small notepad and a short stub of pencil. “Miss Wright,” she said, scribbling away on the notepad, completely oblivious that Miss McArthur and Miss Blossom were now looking at her as if a madwoman had stumbled into their midst.
Miss McArthur frowned. “What’s brilliant?”
“Hmm?” was Daphne’s only response, continuing to write for a good few seconds before she tucked her notepad back into the enormous reticule and smiled all around. Her smile dimmed when her gaze settled on Gabriella. She peered closely at her before her eyes widened again. “Goodness, it’s you, isn’t it?”
“Who? Who is he?” Miss McArthur pressed.
“Ah . . .” was all Daphne said to that as her pale cheeks darkened and she fumbled with her reticule again, pulling out a hideous pair of black spectacles. Shoving them on, she turned her gaze on Gabriella, her green eyes now appearing much larger than they were, lending testimony to the strength of the lenses Daphne was wearing.
“My mistake,” Daphne said briskly. “I thought he was Mr. . . . erm . . . Vladimir Reimir, but I see he’s not Mr. Reimir at all. In fact, I’ve never seen this gentleman before in my life.”
“Isn’t Vladimir Reimir the name of the villain in Montague Moreland’s novel Murder Under a Broken Moon ?” Miss Blossom asked.
Daphne raised a hand to her chest. “On my word, you are a true lover of Montague Moreland, aren’t you?”
“I daresay I am,” Miss Blossom began, “but now you have me wondering if Mr. Montague Moreland created Vladimir Reimir from a real person you’re apparently acquainted with. If that is the case, you might want to distance yourself from that gentleman, because the Vladimir in the book was a vile creature. He certainly deserved the horrible end he came to in the second-to-last chapter.”
“You remember Vladimir came to a bad end in the second-to-last chapter?” Daphne breathed.
An image suddenly flashed through Gabriella’s mind, one where she and Daphne were locked firmly behind bars. Knowing she needed to get Daphne away from Miss Blossom and Miss McArthur before disaster occurred, she stepped forward right as Miss McArthur opened her mouth.
“I don’t see the appeal of Montague Moreland,” Miss McArthur said, waving a fan made of peacock feathers in front of her face. “I find his work to be pedestrian, and his mysteries can be downright absurd in their complexity.”
Daphne’s mouth opened, closed, opened again, then closed as she turned to Gabriella. “This is why I don’t enjoy coming out of my attic. I doubt I’ll ever be convinced to leave it again.” With that, she turned on her heel and headed across the ballroom, her pace causing the elaborate headdress she was wearing to jingle.
“Is it just me or does Miss Wright seem to be a peculiar lady, and rather overly enthusiastic about Montague Moreland as well?” Miss Blossom asked.
Having nothing of worth to say