“Oh, yes. You could decide not to wear it, though. No one will recognize you with the powder and the demi-mask.”
“Yes, but my hair is red, and there are not many women with red hair. Most wear wigs.”
“Especially for the Masked Rogue,” Hannah laughed. “Do you think he would notice you if he saw you tonight?”
“I doubt he would be at a gentlemen's club.”
“What if he made an exception tonight?”
“I doubt he would.” Natalie drew her face away when Hannah raised the powder puff, shaking her head. “I do not want that. I have enough heavy things on me.”
“Very well.” Hannah started toward the door. “I shall be back shortly.”
Natalie regarded herself in the mirror, her stomach fluttering with nerves. Something told her that tonight, the very course of her existence would change, and even though she did not know how, she embraced it.
Her cousin returned with a black box that she set down at Natalie’s feet. A gasp escaped her when the box was opened, and she saw the most beautiful black wool cloak. It was lined with fur, and the hem was embroidered with gold thread in delicate patterns that swirled.
“Hannah, where did you get this?”
“I thought you would need it tonight. Instead of accepting money for the story I submitted yesterday, I requested the cloak, which I saw through the window of a shop on Picadilly.”
"This is wonderful!" Natalie hugged her. “Still, you shouldn’t have done that.”
“Oh, but I have selfish intentions,” Hannah said as she pulled away. “If you look delectable tonight, the Duke might just marry you.”
Natalie let out a nervous laugh. “Are you asking me to seduce him?”
“I do not believe you have to. Everything you have on should do the work.”
Natalie had planned on wearing her old cloak, but now that she had this one, she could not be more grateful to Hannah. Her emotions rose as a result, and she swallowed against the tide, determined to smile and make the most of the night she had. “Thank you!”
"What would you do without me, hmm, Natalie?" Hannah teased, and they laughed before Hannah helped her into the cloak.
It was almost eleven, and the household—which now consisted only of a maid, a footman, and the butler—was quiet, as her cousin helped her sneak out.
Once she was outside through the servants’ entrance, she looked about the alley, and at the end to her right was a black carriage that was barely visible in the night. She suspected it was Jasper’s, and she made her way to it.
A man wearing a dark cloak and a wide-brimmed hat stepped down from the carriage and walked toward her. She smiled as she recognized him.
Jasper was nervous. For the first time in his life, he felt his palms dampen in his black leather gloves and his neckcloth uncomfortably tight. His heart also beat frantically as he walked toward Natalie. Despite it all, a smile stole onto his features when he stopped in front of her.
Saying nothing, he found her hand and led her quickly to the carriage. The cold was biting, but more than that, they should not be seen. Smith was driving them tonight. Jasper always rode when he was the Masked Rogue, but he had company tonight, and the only man he could trust was his valet. The carriage had no crest to identify him, and the interior was dark. He’d had it made for when the Masked Rogue needed it.
Natalie looked ridiculous in a white wig and a mask that did not conceal as much of her face as it ought to. Once they were settled in the carriage, and it had begun to move, he moved to sit beside her on the front-facing seat. “Good evening,” he murmured, his eyes moving to her hands that clutched the lapels of her cloak tightly. She seemed to be as nervous as he was, if not more.
She returned his greeting, but she did not release the cloak. Jasper grew incredibly curious to know what she was hiding. To begin unraveling her, he said, “I want you free tonight, and this wig might be a hindrance.”
Her eyes widened. One of the carriage lamps was near the window, and it shone some light onto her. They could not be seen from outside, however. “My hair is red, Jasper.”
“I know.”Oh, he knew that more than she could ever imagine.“May I?”
A tiny sly smile curved her lips. “You may remove it if you can dress my hair.”
“Trust me,” he whispered, inching closer to her, both her natural scent and the perfume she wore driving his senses into an intoxicating frenzy. When she allowed him, he gently lifted the large wig from her head and set it down, and then he removed the mask.
“What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed.
“I thought you agreed to trust me?”
