“I made his acquaintance a week ago when I encountered him with Miss Gilmore,” Natalie explained.
“You were too modest to tell me, were you not?” Lady Phoebe chuckled. “It is quite well. I am happy you met. Your waltz is all everyone is talking about. Did you read The Londoner?”
“Yes, I did, My Lady.” Someone else had written that piece, because Hannah wrote only about the Rogue. “What was His Grace’s reaction?” Natalie added, curious.
Lady Phoebe raised a mischievous brow. “He reads The Londoner every day, you know. He is not displeased by the news if that is your question.”
Natalie wondered if Jasper’s aunt knew he was the Masked Rogue, and she was thinking of subtly inquiring when Lady Phoebe continued talking.
“I think we should sit here and allow them to continue,” she suggested, pointing at Hannah and Wessberg. “Of course, we will have our eyes on them.” They sat on a bench, and Lady Phoebe regarded Natalie curiously, which made her slightly self-conscious. “I am sure you wonder about my interest, and why I seek a friendship with you, Lady Natalie.”
“I do, My Lady,” she admitted with a modest smile.
“I see a fellow soul in you, Lady Natalie.” Lady Phoebe quickly shook her head when Natalie’s brows furrowed very slightly. “Oh, I am, by no means, referring to your situation. Through my interactions with you, I have seen your love for your family. One unfamiliar with you could readily believe Miss Hills to be your sister.”
“Sheismy sister,” Natalie said.
“Yes.” Lady Phoebe smiled in Hannah’s direction. They had stopped beneath a tree, and judging by Hannah’s grin and Wessberg’s laugh, they were greatly enjoying each other’s company. “You value your family as much as I do,” Lady Phoebe continued, “and should you and my nephew establish a compatibility, you would be most welcome in our home.”
Natalie’s cheeks burned, and she looked away. Lady Phoebe was seeing something where there was nothing. What existed between her and Jasper was desire and nothing more. He had no intention to marry her, and she no longer had any hopes of marrying.
“I believe you have everything Amsthorne requires in a duchess, and I will encourage my nephew to—”
“Oh, please do not, My Lady,” Natalie protested without thinking.
Lady Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “Why do you not want me to encourage him to court you?”
“Well…” She thought quickly of a response. “He is a very willful man, and I feel he should be allowed to make his choices without influence.”
Lady Phoebe tilted her head and watched Natalie for several seconds. “You no longer believe you will find a husband, do you?” she asked, then followed the question with, “Forgive me. I do not mean to unsettle you.”
Her questions might be direct but Natalie appreciated both her honesty and her curtness. “On the contrary, My Lady. I am quite pleased with your questions.”
Lady Phoebe allowed a soft laugh. “That is a relief, then, and you are correct. My nephew is willful, and one cannot simply make him do anything.” A rueful shadow passed over her eyes. “Sometimes, I feel as though I force things upon him. Thus, I must remind myself that I am not his mother, but merely his aunt.” The small smile on her lips turned wistful.
Natalie placed a hand on Lady Phoebe’s. “I do not think that you aremerelyhis aunt.” She knew that Jasper’s mother died when he was very young—perhaps before Natalie was born. “You are the only mother he knows, and he must be aware of his good fortune.” As she said that, she realized that she hoped Jasper was aware of how fortunate he was.
Lady Phoebe’s countenance seemed melancholic. Natalie found it unusual because she was most often cheerful.
“Oh, but I am the one grateful to have him, you see,” Lady Phoebe said. “I was not always like this.” She went on to tell Natalie about her life and how the late Duchess’ death had changed her.
Lady Phoebe had met a gentleman, a colonel, during her debut season. Although there had been a considerable difference in their age, they loved each other. His duty to the crown took him away from England, but not without the promise to marry her upon his return.
“Months later, I received a letter from his brother, informing me of his passing,” Lady Phoebe finished, and Natalie felt her eyes mist, and her heart break for the woman. She had never been in love, but she had once dreamed of it. She could understand how devastating such a loss could be.
“I am sorry, My Lady,” she whispered.
“After his death,” Lady Phoebe continued, “I could not find it in myself to accept any other man. Since I am so fond of travel, I left England in the hopes that the adventure would ease my grief. I met many interesting people, drank and gambled excessively,” she chuckled and shook her head. “I was essentially wild. I suppose you could refer to me as the female Masked Rogue.”
Is Jasper being the Masked Rogue because he was grieving?He could not still be mourning his parents, could he? Or had he lost a woman he loved, too?
“When my sister, the late Duchess of Amsthorne, died, I returned to England.” She smiled at Natalie. “I found healing in the little boy’s laughter.”
Natalie never knew the cause of Lady Phoebe's spinsterhood, and she doubted many people in society did. Her situation was now made to appear glamorous by theton.It was preposterous and unfortunate.
“Oh, pardon my depressing tales, Natalie,” Phoebe chuckled sheepishly. “May I call you that?"
“Of course, and you need not apologize for sharing your story with me. I am happy that you allowed me to know you to this extent.”
