Mr. Darcy Steals a Kiss

My family is about to be ruined, and the only person who can help me is a burglar whose kisses make me forget my own name. Elizabeth Bennet My father is a fraud. There, I’ve confessed it. Jane and I are the only ones who know that he fakes “ancient Greek vases” and sells them to unsuspecting buyers for exorbitant sums to keep our mother in pin money. I don’t even have time for flirtations and courtships like other girls because I’m so worried that someday, he’ll sell one of his fake artifacts to the wrong person. But I never thought it would go this badly. His latest brilliant scheme is to sell a "rare and valuable" sculpture to someone whose name starts with “Prince,” (yes, that Prince!). And that’s just the beginning of the trouble. Now, we have a burglar on the loose, a “ladyship” who wants to squeeze into the action, a pompous fool who wants to marry me just to get his hands on my father’s collection, and a royal who will not think any of this is funny. It’s pretty sad when the most trustworthy person of the whole lot is the burglar. Fitzwilliam Darcy Things I have never done (until this week): Broken into a house. (But I sort of had permission.) Split my head open. (Totally not my fault.) Pretended to be a burglar. (In my defense, it was to save a lady’s reputation.) Kissed a stranger. (It didn’t affect me at all. Mostly.) Paid a king’s ransom for a sculpture that may or may not be genuine. (I panicked. See above.) Agreed to steal said sculpture to keep my neck out of a noose. (I’ve got nothing.) Kissed a… Perhaps she’s not a stranger anymore.