Meet me in the garden.
Chapter 9
A house in Whitechapel is said to be the Rogue’s residence. He cannot be a gentleman if that is where his home is. More proof is required, and we believe we are closer than ever. The woman he rescued is a lady; one with dark hair and green eyes, too. London appears to be in abundance of dark-haired ladies. Where to look?
Reading the note, Natalie was transported back to a memory from nine years ago. Jasper had asked her to meet him in the library, that he had something to show her. Giddy and supposedly in love, she snuck out of the ballroom to meet him.
They were introduced that night, but Natalie had known and admired him longer. Believing she had found the man who would become her husband, she met him alone, and he charmed her.
Now, closing her eyes and breathing, she straightened her shoulders. She would meet him in the garden, but the time for mistakes had long passed. Jasper could not charm her now or corrupt her reputation. An inexplicable desire existed between them but that was all it was. Simple desire.
Placing the note in her reticule, she looked around the ballroom once, then turned and stepped out into the terrace. She walked to the balustrade and stood by it, her eyes sweeping the garden in search of him. Several guests milled about the terrace but they hardly took any notice of her.
She caught movement on her right and turned, seeing Jasper beneath a topiary arch. Then he turned and walked away. She followed him, descending the short steps and taking a cobbled path. He disappeared, but Natalie continued walking until she felt his hand circle her wrist, and he drew her behind a tall hedge.
“Natalie,” he murmured, and her breath quickened.
“I did not give you leave to use my Christian name.”
Jasper tilted his head. “I cannot continue to address you formally after everything that happened between us,” he whispered. “You know my deepest secret.”
“Is this why you called me here?” she asked.
“Yes, and to ask for another kiss.” He gave her a wicked smile.
“You cannot ask for a kiss, Jasper. You will not have one.” Her body contradicted her words by warming and yearning.
“We shall see.” He folded his arms across his broad chest. “I trust you did not tell anyone what you saw last night.”
Natalie bristled. “Why would I?”
“Surely, you do not expect me to be secure in the knowledge that you will keep what you witnessed to yourself without inquiring and ensuring you do,” he said. “I am society's greatest obsession.” He sounded proud of himself just then.
“You have that wrong. The Rogue is society's obsession, not you,” Natalie challenged.
He chuckled. “That is a good point, but we are the same person. You appear to have separated us in your mind.”
She had to separate them because they were different to her.Is he truly?she mused, wondering what story he was hiding behind the mask. He could not have created the Masked Rogue without a reason.
Something moved deep in his blue eyes but he blinked, and it disappeared before she could capture and understand it. “What is your price?” he asked abruptly.
“I beg your pardon?” Natalie thought that she heard him wrong.
“The price of your silence,” he elaborated, and she felt insulted that he thought he could throw money at her and have her keep his secret. Did he know about her family’s troubles? Most of society did. It was no secret that she and Hannah had no dowry. It was another thing that propelled her spinsterhood.
She thought of Oliver, and how he had demanded his silence be bought.Why does this not surprise me?Jasper and Oliver were friends, and they were likely to think alike, which wounded her pride even more.
Natalie opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of his behavior but paused when a notion formed in her mind. She had a list to complete, and most of the activities could not be accomplished without help. Who better to help her enter a gentleman’s club or fence than the Masked Rogue of London?
“The price of my silence is heavy, Jasper,” she said. “Are you willing to pay it?”
“Whatever it is.”
“I have a list…” she began, her doubt rising, but she pushed it down. “Things I want to accomplish. I cannot do some of them by myself.”
“You need my help,” he stated.
“I needhishelp,” she corrected.
