HONOUR AMONG THIEVES
CHAPTER ONE
FIRST IMPRESSIONS

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LYLA NORBURY PAUSED in her movements as the sound of her mother's voice called from the front door of their humble cabin. "Sweetie, dinner's ready!"

"Coming, ma." Lyla blew out a reluctant breath as she stopped harvesting her family's crops, the girl adjusting her position so she was now properly standing up and approaching the farm's gate.

Lyla's immense apprehension with her mother's previous words was entirely fuelled by the knowledge that, every night at the dinner table, like clockwork, both of her parents would 'casually drop in' suggestions for which man she should get married to and have children with.

It didn't matter which man caught Desmond and Mary's eyes, they just wanted their daughter to be wed before she turned twenty five. Despite the several arguments that Lyla started in order to persuade them to finally stop their fruitless attempts, her parents remained firm in standing by their collective goal—much to Lyla's dismay.

After their tenth argument, which consisted of the same perspectives from either side being repeated each and every single time, Lyla finally understood where she got her incredible stubbornness from.

Hanging her dirty gardening gloves on the side hook attached to a wooden pole beside the plentiful farm, Lyla unlatched the gate that separated the garden and the rest of her yard, and made her way to the front door.

"What's for dinner?" Lyla curiously inquired as she entered her house and faced her mother in the adjacent dining room, the girl twisting the lock behind her once she firmly closed the door.

"Peas, chicken and leek." Mary answered when she finished placing everyone's plates in front of their usual seats as her husband, Desmond, entered the room, the man planting a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips on the way to his seat and leaving the woman beaming.

Lyla didn't miss the action as a small, fond smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Thought so."

"I'd sure hope you thought so, you harvested the vegetables this morning." Desmond humorously chimed in as he took his seat at the head of the table, Mary sitting in the seat beside his and interlocking one hand with her husband's, giving him a small squeeze as she did so.

Observing the way Desmond's face noticeably lit up at the action, and how Mary's smile grew even wider, Lyla felt her heart warm at the moment. All she wanted was to be unconditionally loved the way that her father loved her mother.

It was rare, when Lyla had the chance to just be at peace with her parents, to sit back and watch how much they respected and cared for one another, however as if on cue—Lyla had come to anticipate—, they ruined the moment, all at once.

"So, sweetie pie, are you seeing someone?" Mary curiously inquired as she bit into her chicken, and the incredible aloofness that she spoke the question with only baffled Lyla. It was a talent, to be so calculated, yet simultaneously put on such an innocent facade.

Lyla sighed deeply as she shook her head and shovelled a spoonful of peas into her mouth.

"That's not ladylike, Lyla." Mary casually scolded as she cut another piece of chicken.

"Now, Mary, you know she's still recovering from Noah," Desmond quipped in response to his wife's previous inquiry, eyes then sliding to his daughter. "When you're ready, Lyla, I know a nice young man down the way that would love to have a drink or two."

Lyla's head fell back as she let out a deep, exasperated groan. "Ma, pa. Stop."

Mary tilted her head as she tsked. "We're just looking out for you, sweetie."

"Well, stop it," Lyla frowned, offended eyes flickering wildly between her parents. "First of all, you're not looking out for me, 'looking out for me' means actually respecting the several times I've asked you to stop trying to find me a man when you know that I can find one myself, and second, can we just get through one night without having the same discussion? Please?"

Desmond and Mary just let out deep sighs as they shared elongated, sympathetic looks before focusing on their daughter again.

"We're sorry." Mary reluctantly answered, the hesitant tone not missed on Lyla.

Still, Lyla just focused on the table and counted the words as the attempt was progress, albeit restrained, the girl swallowing as her tone slightly softened. "Thank you."

Desmond and Mary shared another knowing look, Desmond slightly shaking his head at his daughter's consistently defensive behaviour.

•

Lyla grinned as she successfully managed to avoid her parents' interrogation, the girl's head whipping around the cabin before she quickly snuck out once she ensured that the coast was clear.

Heavy wooden box of crops in her hands, Lyla pushed the back door open with her shoulder and hurriedly stepped outside, securing the box in her hands as she adjusted her grip around its handles.

Making her way towards the towering hill that separated her homely neighbourhood and a lone estate that belonged to a few outlaws that she knew, Lyla practically memorised the route from her house to theirs.

She had an excuse to associate with them, however, as part of the appeal of engaging in less-than-illegal activities for Lyla was the knowledge that her parents would certainly disapprove of her actions—tasks that she had been undertaking since she was old enough to defy her parents' expectations.

Lyla had always despised the overbearing pressure of marriage that was continually pushed onto her from her parents—whether it was through manipulative conversation or forceful introduction to potential suitors—, and she had made every effort to convey her discontent with them, without a care in the world that she could potentially falter her family's well-respected reputation.

Some would say Lyla's personality was rooted in stubbornness. Others would argue that she was too spoiled, being an only child. As long as Lyla was satisfied, that was all that mattered. Peace would be restored within the Norbury household.

Little did her parents know that she had a whole other half of her personality that they never saw. Frequent relations with men she was well-aquatinted with, her creation of her side-business in which she'd frequently sell a quarter of her parents' crops for double their price and leave her parents with the rest of the crops that she didn't want, and sneaking out to pubs were just a few of the activities that she had a strong proclivity for.

The incentive for most of her rebellious actions was primarily rooted in defying her parents, however that only took her so far in terms of her general satisfaction. At this point in time, Lyla just enjoyed her carefree life.

No responsibilities, no one tying her down. She was immensely proud of herself for making it this far on her own, and she intended to carry this streak on for as long as she could.

Pulling herself out of her own flurrying thoughts, that she had a tendency to get lost in, Lyla suddenly realised that she had now arrived at her acquaintances' estate.

"Barbara, it's me!" Lyla called from the front door, the girl balancing the heavy box of crops on one knee as she twisted the doorknob open and stuck her head through the door. "Can I come in, or are you entertaining a gentleman caller?!"

Lyla heard an amused noise arise from the kitchen before Barbara's voice called out after it. "Come in."

A pleased grin worked its way onto Lyla's face as she confidently strutted inside, box still in her firm grasp, and she just called out a string of lighthearted words as she did so. "As usual, I brought some good grub!"

"And as usual, I'll reimburse you." Barbara's chuckle arose from the kitchen as Lyla entered it, facing the table by the door as she placed the box down.

"Good, because this don't come for fre-" Lyla steadfastly cut herself off mid-sentence as she turned around, the girl being met with the sight of a vaguely familiar boy, approximately her age, sitting at the kitchen table. "So you were entertaining a man. What would Je-"

"Here's your money," Just before Lyla could finish uttering Barbara's boyfriend's name, the woman just hurried over to her with coins in her hand and dropped them in the younger girl's palm. "Thank you for the food."

Lyla's eyebrows tugged upwards as she immediately noticed the attempt to conceal her current relationship status, and she just redirected her attention to the boy, who was staring at her with a blank expression that was entirely unreadable, as she slightly leaned forward and held her hand out. "Hi, I'm Lyla."

"Hi." The boy responded as his eyes gradually slid down to her extended hand, and it appeared as though he was internally weighing the decision to shake it.

Huffing out a humoured chuckle at his evident hesitance, Lyla just gestured to her hand with a nod of her head. "Well, go on then, I ain't gonna bite."

The boy flickered his eyes back up to Lyla's face as he waited a beat before moving his warm hand up to clasp it with her contrastingly cool one, the breezy morning air that she had walked several miles through just moments prior solely contributing to her chilly, soft skin.

Loosely shaking her hand once, the boy eventually replied to her previous introduction, voice quiet and slightly gravelly, and Lyla inferred his standoffish tone was due to his immense apprehension. "I'm Billy."

"I know who you are," Lyla let out another humoured huff as she just disconnected their hands, straightened up, and dropped the coins into her dress pocket. "You're quite infamous 'round these parts, but it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, regardless."

Billy's face dropped even further—if it was even possible—, and he just lightly shook his head, likely a sign of remorse for his own criminality, before shamefully averting his eyes.

Lyla just turned to face Barbara, signifying that she successfully made her polite introduction, and she plastered on a tight-lipped smile as she crossed her arms over her chest and subtly referred to the woman's boyfriend once more. "I'm guessing we'll talk about that other thing later?"

Barbara's eyes widened, signifying for Lyla to stop talking again as she tried not to make the fact that they were, metaphorically, dancing on eggshells because of Billy's presence. "There's nothing to talk about. Now, would you mind showing Billy around town? I have to clean up before the boys get back."

Lyla furrowed her eyebrows at the request. "What? Now?"

"Yes, now," Barbara scoffed. "What, you have something better to do?"

Lyla's eyes flickered to the sides as the thought of her reading only crossed her mind, and she defensively shifted her weight between her feet. "Maybe."

"Just take him, Lyla," Barbara exasperatedly sighed. "Please."

"I don't know the guy, Barbara, I just met him, what, two seconds ago?" Lyla threw her hands to the sides, and at this point, the two of them seemed to have forgotten that Billy was sitting right at the table beside them.

"It's not a big ask, Lyla, it's just for a few hours." Barbara pleaded, her tone sharpening with every word.

Lyla's eyebrows furrowed deeper. "But, what if-"

"I'll go," Billy's sharp voice cut through their dispute before they could continue, the boy abruptly catching their collective attention as he stood up, the chair he was previously sitting on loudly scraping the wooden floor as a consequence. "Arguing won't get anyone anywhere."

Lyla's eyebrows surprisingly lifted at his newfound confidence, and she slowly turned to face Barbara.

"I hate to admit this, but the cowboy's right." Turning to face Billy again, Lyla just shrugged and signified for him to start walking as she tilted her head towards the door. "Come on."

•

AUTHOR'S NOTE
lyla is so lucy gray coded 🤭

© voidvaleska