“We have the right to know about your condition, George,” Natalie said calmly, sitting beside him on the bed and taking his hand. “How can we look after you if we do not know?”
“I shall be well,” he reassured them.
“Did Dr. Rivers leave instructions for your care?” Natalie asked.
“Only rest and nutrition.”
“You have not been eating well, George,” Hannah pointed out, “and you drink more than we do.”
“Naturally,” George chuckled, but neither Natalie nor his sister joined him. Sighing, he said, “I will eat more.”
“Do you promise?” Hannah implored.
“Yes,” he replied, while guilt continued to scratch Natalie’s insides. There had to be a better way for their family’s finances to recover without George working himself to an early grave. She had to seek that way.
Chapter 8
As we end the chapter of Lord Mansfield, we open another, which should remind us of how ruthless our Masked Rogue is. Baron Peckhart lost a wager, and although it was not a significant sum, word is that he was shamed at the club. Is this how we will allow an unknown man to disgrace the aristocracy?
“You are relentless, Hannah,” Natalie sighed.
They were standing near the refreshment table in Lady Barton’s filled ballroom a week later, and Hannah, who saw an opportunity to investigate instead of seeking a suitor, was scribbling on a small piece of parchment with a pencil.
“I must know, Natalie. The reward The Londoner is offering will help us. I heard it is a pretty fortune.”
Natalie shook her head and allowed her eyes to move across the room. They had seen and exchanged greetings with Lady Phoebe earlier, but she was drawn away by the hostess. Like Natalie, Jasper’s aunt was a spinster, but society appeared to have forgiven her and forgotten about it.
It was unfair, but Natalie had to bear it. Even though she stood with Hannah by the refreshment table, she felt unwanted and unwelcome.
“Who do you think the lady is?” her cousin asked. “Do you think she is here?”
Natalie’s eyebrows drew together. “You are asking me?”
“Not you, but…” She trailed off at the sight of the handsome gentleman approaching them. Her cousin’s cheeks turned a vibrant shade of pink, and she appeared to know the man.
When Natalie looked from Hannah to the gentleman, her cousin introduced them. “Lord Wessberg, this is my cousin, Lady Natalie Reeves.” She grinned at her. “Natalie, Viscount Wessberg. He helped me answer some questions at the puppet player’s stall that earned me the ballerina.”
“Oh.” Natalie smiled at it. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, My Lord.”
“Likewise.” He placed a kiss on her knuckles.
Wessberg asked Hannah to dance, and Natalie was glad she had been able to make them new dresses in time for the ball. A viscount had taken interest in her cousin, and with luck, she would make a match before next season. It was all Natalie and George could hope for.
As she stood alone, she saw several ladies in the distance look and point in her direction. Natalie picked up a glass of punch and tried to look occupied with it as pathetic as that seemed. She dared to glance up, and she saw more eyes turning in her direction, causing her to press her lips together. She had told herself many times that society’s rejection no longer affected her, but all she had to do was attend a ball to be reminded of everything.
Picking up a small cake, she took a bite, then winced at its dryness, setting it down and sipping some punch. Still feeling awkward and desperate, she contemplated leaving the ballroom and venturing into the garden. There were not many people there, and she could find the escape she needed.
“Lady Natalie.”
Her breath caught, and she turned around slowly, the air leaving her lungs completely at the sight of Jasper. Natalie was, once more, struck by how handsome he was. She curtsied politely. “Your Grace.”
He took her gloved hand and kissed it, then his other hand joined, placing something between her fingers. “I would have asked you to dance but…” He glanced behind him at the crush of people in the ballroom. There was space to dance, but getting to the floor was a journey by itself. “Why are you here by yourself?” he asked.
“I like being by myself,” she lied. Natalie did not mind solitude, but not at a ball.
Smiling, he looked down at her hand, silently gesturing for her to examine what he had placed there. She looked down to find a small piece of paper. “I hope to see you soon,” Jasper said, walking past her to the glass doors that led out to the garden.
Natalie unfolded the paper and read, her heart beating faster:
