One of the gentlemen I didn’t recognize, though something about him seemed familiar, and the second was Ansel Chen, Lady Rosalin’s cousin. The third made my heart flutter and then sink to my toes. Along with Ansel, Rafi Nasser was one of my brother’s best mates, and while Rafi was the ton’s resident libertine, he was hardly obtuse. In fact, his lackadaisical personality hid an incisive mind, or so I’d observed the past few years. One mistake and I could be discovered.
That would ruin everything.
My brother was not with them, which I counted as a small mercy. I would have been a little more worried about discovery with him there, especially since it wouldn’t be the first time we’d ambushed him—but my disguise was solid, thanks in part to his own fiancée, Ela, who was a master of subterfuge. Gulping past the thickening knot in my throat, I squared my shoulders and edged the horse closer.
“What is the meaning of this?” the one closest to me demanded.
“Calm down, Rin,” Ansel said through his teeth. I knew the other boy looked familiar—he was the elder brother of my other best friend Nori. That made me feel better about robbing someone I didn’t know. And if he was with Rafi and Keston’s set, he had money to burn, and Nori would definitely approve.
“Bugger off, Ansel,” he slurred. “Don’t tell me what to do. What is this?”
“It’s a robbery, dimwit,” Lalita called out, and I nearly laughed out loud at his half-foxed expression. With any luck, they would be too deep in their cups to remember most of this. The coachman blanched and reached for his pockets. “Not you,” she told him. “Just the spoiled toffs inside the carriage who can afford to lighten their purses.”
Grinning at the coachman’s bemused expression, I cleared my throat and threw a sack to the middle of the open convey- ance, putting a little mischief in my tone. “Hands where I can see them, kind sirs. Fill the pouch, if you will. You’re all much too comely to be shot tonight.”
Ansel and Rin complied, though grousing all the while. Most would not put up a fight at gunpoint. My eyes widened at the bank notes, coins, rings, and pocket watches going into the bag. This would be an excellent haul.
When they were done, I let my gaze drift to Rafi, who sat sprawled lazily against the left squabs, his long arms spread wide on either side of him. One would think he was spending an indo- lent evening in his favorite armchair and not being robbed by armed highwaymen. Er, highway-women. I tried not to let myself be too affected by his presence, but Rafi was a person who commanded attention. It didn’t help that he’d grown more handsome in the last year, not that I cared, of course. It was a simple observation.
Rafi Nasser always left a trail of broken hearts in his wake…every girl in London wanting to be the girl who reformed a notorious scoundrel. Even my own brother had warned me of him, and I supposed it helped that Rafi didn’t see me as anything other than his best friend’s little sister. Two years ago, during Keston and Ela’s courtship, he’d nipped my nascent infatuation in the bud when I’d foolishly let my feelings be known.
I am not interested in courting bratty girls. A cool, disinterested gaze had parsed my excessively frilled figure. Especially Rid- ley’s little sister. Go back to your schoolroom, Zia.
I’d tucked my poor, wounded sixteen-year-old heart away and avoided him since.
That open sore of rejection didn’t stop him from being unnecessarily attractive, however. Dark stubble crept over a sharp jawline, a bold nose and hooded brows making his features seem more angular in the low moonlight. Thickly lashed eyes— silvery gray in the dappled darkness—shone with something that unsettled me. I resisted the urge to check to see if my cowl was intact, shielding my features from view.
“Come now, don’t be shy,” I told him audaciously, fighting for poise. “Your pockets seem heavy tonight.”
His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to one side. “Who are you?”
That deep baritone of his descended over me like crushed velvet. “My identity is not important, only your valuables. But if you insist, Lady Knight, it is.”
Lalita’s gasp alerted me to the fact that naming any names that might lead back to us was not part of the plan. Too late now.
Rafi didn’t move from his relaxed pose, a slow smirk kicking up one corner of his mouth. “How quaint . . . lady of the night, I presume?” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from his tone.
I knew I shouldn’t engage, but the need to put him in his place was strong. “Knight with a K, as in warrior-at-arms, actually. And might I remind you that this is loaded, my lord,” I said, knowing full well he wasn’t titled as I hefted my rifle. “Make haste. Time and tide will wait for no man.”
Something flashed across his face. He sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and I resisted the urge to rear back. “What’s an educated young woman doing on these roads at night? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”
Nerves alight, I tapped the rifle on the edge of the coach. “I am the danger, good sir. Now, unless you intend to test my rather excellent feminine aim, I’d advise you to stitch together those pretty lips and divest yourself of your baubles. Patience is not one of my many virtues.”
The corner of that devious mouth kicked up, along with my traitorous temperature. “Pretty lips?”
“A euphemism, no more. Now stop stalling.”
With that wicked smirk still firmly in place, he reached for the pouch and emptied his pockets. It must have been a lucky night at the card tables. Good for him, and even better for us. When he stretched an arm toward me, my eyes stuck on the large signet ring on his finger. It was his family ring, I knew. But any thieving highwayman worth his salt would never leave such a bounty behind.
“That’s a lovely ring.”
His eyes darkened. “It’s a family heirloom.” “One that will fetch a nice sum.”
A chuckle left his lips. “It’s much too recognizable to sell, Lady Knight.”
“Then perhaps I shall keep it as a memento of our meeting.”
Prowling forward, I reached out to grip his fingers with my gloved left hand and grinned as I slipped it off and stowed it into the pocket of my cloak. He lurched forward to latch on to my wrist, making my pulse gallop, but a swift movement of my heel into my mount’s flank broke the brief contact. “You won’t get away with this,” he said in a low snarl that made my already
hammering pulse double.
“Already have. Do have a grand evening, your lordship,” I purred, and then on impulse blew him a kiss. His nostrils flared, something flashing in those narrowed gray eyes, and for a heart-stopping moment, I wondered if it was recognition. Blow- ing a kiss was something the Zia he knew would never do, so it couldn’t have been that. I frowned when Rafi rose off the seat as if breathing in, and I urged my horse a few more hurried steps back.
Was the rotter sniffing me?
I hadn’t worn any scent other than daily bathwater, but still . . .
His brows drew down as I moved the stallion farther away and nodded to Lalita, who had remained in position in front of the coach. Together we drifted off the road and into the shadows. Still, I felt the press of that heated silver gaze for a full minute afterward.
Excerpted from Lady Knight by Amalie Howard. Copyright © 2025 by Amalie Howard. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Lady Knight will be released on April 1, 2025, but you can pre-order it right now.
Lacy Baugher Milas is the Books Editor at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter and Bluesky at @LacyMB
