So? You don’t want to meet that gentleman jewel thief extraordinaire?
Not at all. The first thing Saff would tell you is CASE THE JOINT.
That’s CASE not CAGE you klutzes. Do it inside and out.
Also, don’t hide the loot in any food.
Make sure you know the exits as well as the entrances. You may have to escape the unconventional way, like Cass did on that occasion.
Stay calm. To betray a nerve is to betray everything.
Apart from the obvious? Cos I wanted to explore a scenario where the gloves are off from the start as opposed to one where the wool gets pulled. When it comes to heroes, I like ’em smart and sexy.
I think writing should be about the unexpected, not the hackneyed.
That damned conniving vixen had been roughly sixteen. Or so he’d reckoned. And he’d stuck to the belief through thick and thin. She had been far too young to be Sapphire , the notorious jewel thief whose name had been on everyone’s lips that season. And the entire two seasons before that. Entirely justified as the heists piled up: The Lambeth heist that saw a reward of a thousand guineas being offered for the return of Madam De Courcy’s diamond tiara, gold locket, and topaz bracelet from a chest in her chamber—although how Madame De Courcy came to have a diamond tiara in a chest in her chamber, when she had apparently fled the Terror in France in her stocking soles, had never been fully explained. Or how she could afford the thousand guinea reward either. Then there was the Weaverfield Mansion heist, a mystery involving a locked room and its even more mysteriously missing contents. Then, within two weeks, as if Sapphire needed to prove her worth, because rewards were being offered, because people were desperate to see her hang, the Buckleys, the Fieldings, the Mornays—all families of note—found their jewel boxes lighter, that no safe was safe enough.
How many times had he been told only Sapphire would have possessed the guile and daring to have snatched the Wentworth emeralds from beneath the Wentworths’ noses?
The crime had her hallmark stamped all over it: A glittering house-party. A bauble worth a king’s ransom. A sudden, daring raid. How on earth could Sapphire have only been sixteen? It wasn’t possible. It meant she must have started stealing when she was nine or ten.
It was the single reason no one had been prepared to believe him. Not even his own family. Although, now he considered it, not one single description of Sapphire existed in any newspaper. Or any wanted sheet. Like Lady Armstrong, she was a mystery. An enigma. A mythical creature no one had ever actually seen.
Ten years ago sixteen year old Sapphire, the greatest jewel thief England has ever known, ruined Lord Devorlane Hawley’s life. Now she’s dead and buried, all the respectable widow, Cassidy Armstrong, wants is the chance to prove who she really is.
But not only does her new neighbor believe he knows that exactly, he’s hell-bent on revenge. All he needs is the actual proof. So when he asks her to choose between being his mistress, or dangling on the end of a rope, only Sapphire can decide…
What’s left for a woman with nowhere left to go, but to stay exactly where she is?