“We need to further reduce our expenses,” he replied, looking dolefully from Natalie to Hannah.
“Lady Barton invited us to her autumn ball,” Hannah said, “but we do not have to attend, and if we must, then we will not have new dresses made. We shall wear one of our old ones.”
They were rarely invited to balls—even during the social season—and they were excited when they received an invitation last week. They planned to have new dresses because most of the ones they had were out of fashion. Natalie could make them new dresses, but they had wanted a proper modiste to do it so they could truly feel like they were part of theton. The illusion of privilege was sometimes a salve for their wounds.
“Yes, I agree with Hannah,” Natalie said. “I can alter our old dresses and no one will know.”
George sighed, suddenly looking older than his age of two-and-thirty. He contemplated their suggestion for a moment before shaking his head. “No. My sisters shall have new dresses. They might not be the same as what you are accustomed to but you will have something new, nevertheless. Besides, the price of a dress is not very significant.” He smiled to brighten the place, and although they returned the gesture, the air remained heavy with the burdens on the family.
Hannah made to object, but Natalie stopped her with a look. “What else can we do?” It was evident that George was already feeling as though he had failed them. The best they could do for him was to accept what he was giving them. She silently promised to work harder to replace what they would spend on the new dresses.
“We have to dismiss some of the household. A maid or two should make a difference,” he suggested, “or we could reduce their wages.”
Natalie gently placed a hand on his arm. “It is better to dismiss them. We can give them good references that will enable them to find better situations.”
“Yes, you are correct. I would be lost without you two.” He gave them an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”
“What is the purpose of family if not to look after one another.” She took his hand, then frowned when she noticed, for the first time, how lean his fingers had become. George's health suffered greatly for how much he exerted himself in his attempts to repay their debts and provide for them. He hid it well from them, but it was at times like this that Natalie noticed.
Guilt clenched her hut as she recalled the cause of it all. Oliver Bargrave had pronounced Jasper’s prank a scandal, and he came to her father and collected money from him for his silence. Months later, Oliver forced her father to give him a large part of his coal mining business using the scandal as leverage. Too afraid to have his daughter’s reputation ruined, her father agreed, and fell into debt trying to revive his remaining fortune.
The scandal remained hidden but the price was too much. As a result of their lost fortune, gentlemen avoided Natalie because she had no dowry, and when she reached the age of five-and-twenty, she was deemed a spinster.
George still owned a portion of the business but it was a very small one. Not once had Natalie's father or George ever blamed her for what had happened, nor had they shown their displeasure in any way. She was immensely grateful to them, but her gratitude did nothing to assuage her guilt.
After dinner, George went to his study, while Hannah moved to the library to read. Left alone, Natalie decided to retire early. Within the walls of her room, the day’s events rattled in her thoughts.
Jasper will surely pay for what he had done to her family, but before then, she had a task she could complete with him.Kiss a proper gentleman. He was a perfect man in society’s eyes, thus, he qualified.
She rose from her chair in front of the hearth and walked to her vanity, assessing her appearance. Her pale blue lace dress complimented her red hair and gave her hazel eyes a green hue. Yes, she will kiss a proper gentleman tonight before she lost the unexpected courage she had gained.
Removing a black cloak from a rack and throwing it over her shoulders, she picked up her gloves and reticule, and she slipped out of her bedchamber, moving as quietly as she could. Her heart beat faster, and her eyes darted in every direction. She had never snuck out of the house before, and if George found her, not only would he prevent her from leaving but he would worry.
He also would never understand her list, especially because he still hoped she would find a good gentleman and marry. She descended the stairs and hurried toward the rear of the house where the servants’ entrance was located. Natalie opened it as quietly as she could and stepped out, closing it behind her.
She took a deep breath and walked down the alley to the street where she hired a hack, giving the driver Jasper’s address, a few miles outside the city of Westminster.
As she settled in the carriage and flutters threatened to make her run back to the safety of Clifford House, she swallowed and took another steadying breath.
Tonight, the course of my life changes. I will not quail,she vowed.
Chapter 3
We have it on good authority that the Masked Rogue is a very sad man. A demi-monde, whose name we shan’t reveal, claimed to have seen grief in his gaze during an encounter. Many others have pronounced the same, and we believe that there is some truth to this tale.
Jasper opened the middle drawer of his desk, but instead of picking up the ledger he intended to retrieve, his hand found a black mask. He removed it and stared at it for a while, thinking.
He was the fifth Duke of Amsthorne, and like the last two before him, he was going to die in months. This mask had given him the chance to live as he pleased before their family curse would come to claim him. It saved him from tainting his family’s pristine reputation.
Jasper sighed as he continued to stare at the mask, realizing that he was lying to himself at this very moment. He was a coward who hid behind the Masked Rogue instead of living truthfully. He feared death, and that ought to have encouraged honesty. Now all of London—nay, England—wanted him.
That and the darkness of his curse shadowed every step he took, occupied every space in his thoughts, and consumed his dreams at night. His father and grandfather died at five-and-thirty from mysterious illnesses, and he was sure the same would happen to him. Jasper shut his eyes and ground his teeth, his heart aching anew. Dwelling upon this issue never did him well, and it would not suddenly whim to serve him. He must continue on the path he was on. Live the rest of his days as he pleased so he would die knowing he controlled what he could.
Placing the mask back in the drawer, he retrieved the ledger and set it atop his desk before gaining his feet, walking to a table by a bookshelf, and picking up a brandy decanter. A knock came as he was pouring a finger of brandy into a glass.
“Come in,” he called, walking back to his desk with his liquor. His aunt, Lady Phoebe Dawson, walked into the room, her dark eyebrows contracting when she saw the glass between his fingers. She never liked it when he drank. She also did not believe the curse.
“Should I have some tea brought in for you?” she asked, coming to sit in the chair before his desk.
