Jasper was spending his afternoon at White’s, and all he could think of was his arrangement with Natalie. He wanted to know why she had that list, but he was also excited to help her. He would see her as often as he wished and collect his kisses. He could not seem to have enough.
His idle gaze landed on the Earl of Clifford shuffling some cards at the far end of the room, and at that instant, he recalled the debts the man had. Natalie was his cousin, and she was affected by it.
He frowned. Was that why she had the list? To help her survive their misfortune?
Society was of the opinion that the present Earl had squandered the fortunes and sold the once very successful coal business to Oliver, but Jasper was not one to believe words carried about. The late earl made mistakes that placed the coal factory in difficulty, and Oliver purchased it from him because he saw a good opportunity.
Jasper had never cared before, but because of Natalie, he was incredibly curious now. He watched Clifford help himself to a generous amount of liquor from the decanter on his table. Deciding to join him, Jasper rose and picked up his brandy, walking over to him.
“May I?” He pointed to the empty seat opposite Clifford.
Clifford looked surprised, but nodded, carrying on with shuffling his cards. After a moment, he paused and pushed the decanter toward Jasper. “You may drink with me if you like, Your Grace.”
Indulging him, Jasper splashed a little more brandy into his glass and took a sip, his gaze settling on the cards. It was a deck he had never seen before. Clifford saw him looking and said, “I paint them myself.” He gave Jasper a suit to examine.
The skill was impressive, and the art was medieval in style. “These are excellent cards, Clifford. Do you mind selling them to me?”
Clifford shook his head. “I did not paint them to sell, Your Grace.”
“Will you play me for them, then?” Jasper offered, knowing quite well that Clifford did not gamble. For a man in dire want of funds, he never indulged. It took great character and strength, and Jasper admired him.
Clifford considered his offer for a while before he nodded. “I suppose I should defend my cards.”
“Indeed.”
He collected the remaining cards from Jasper and began to shuffle them again. “Piquet?”
“Yes.”
Jasper called a footman to bring them a sheet and a pencil to keep their scores.
The first round began, and what Jasper thought would be a quick and easy match turned out to be a challenging one. Soon, gentlemen gathered around them to watch, and they made wagers between themselves.
Jasper scarcely gambled, but the Masked Rogue did, and he was undefeated. It would seem he had found a worthy match in Clifford today, and at the end of the last round, Clifford was declared the victor.
Of course, most of the gentlemen lost their wagers because they bet against the Earl. Hamper laughed as the men grumbled in disbelief. “It has been long since I was defeated, Clifford.” Defeat felt unfamiliar but he perceived it as a challenge.
“Then you have never played against the Masked Rogue,” Clifford chuckled. He looked better than he did before their game, but Jasper noticed how thin he was.
“There are some risks I cannot take,” he replied evenly. “The Masked Rogue will take everything from me.”
“Indeed,” one gentleman said. “Look at poor Lord Mansfield.”
“And now Baron Peckhart,” another said.
“I have no wish to see my name in The Londoner again.” Jasper returned his attention to the cards. “I will want those, Clifford.”
“Then you must win them fairly from me,” the Earl declared.
“Yes, we should have another round,” someone suggested. “I will happily bet on Clifford now.”
Jasper was tempted to put money in the wager to help him if he won, but he had an inkling that Clifford would not appreciate it. This feeling of generosity confused him, and he did not know where it was coming from.
They began another game, and Clifford gained several points against Jasper in the first round. The gentlemen with wagers on him began to rejoice.
“My Lord,” someone said to Clifford, “you should play against the Masked Rogue.”
“I agree,” another shouted in jest. “We should choose Lord Clifford as our champion against the Rogue. He is cleaving our fortunes. We must defend ourselves!”
