Page 43 of Rogue of My Heart

Meg had been Charlotte’s closest friend since they had debuted together. They were about as opposite as two women could be. Where Charlotte was tall with dark hair, Meg was petite with a riot of flaming curls.

“That is neither here nor there.” Meg poked a sweet cake into her mouth.

“Charlotte, please,” Amelia pleaded.

“Oh, very well. You are all so fun to tease, but I will end your misery. The other night at the Maybrook ball, I stepped out onto the balcony to escape the ever annoying crowd. But of course I was followed. While I was keeping Winthrop’s roaming hands and lips off of me, I heard rustling in the bushes. So after I successfully rid myself of that pest, I called out to person hiding.”

“He spoke to you?” Willow asked. Her eyes widened behind those spectacles she wore, before narrowing.

“Not only did he speak to me,” Charlotte said. “He knew my name.”

Meg nodded. “I knew it! Our suspicions that he knew you were correct.”

“What did he say?” Amelia asked.

“He claimed he was going to save me from Winthrop, but then I handled the situation myself.”

“So, he is a gentleman,” Meg said.

“I dare say that simply because he claimed he was going to save Charlotte from the likes of Winthrop doesn’t mean he’s a gentleman,” Amelia said. “He could have been intending to ravish her himself.”

A shiver of awareness surged through Charlotte’s body.

Willow turned her sharp gaze on Charlotte. “After hearing him speak, do you think you could identify him?”

Charlotte had asked herself that question a hundred times since, and had come up with no good answers. “I don’t know. On one hand, his voice sounded so familiar, yet it was not the voice of anyone I know. I even stepped into the yard to be closer to him, see if I couldn’t get a better look.”

“And?” Meg asked.

Charlotte shook her head. “Same as his voice. Seemed familiar and different all at the same time. It’s very confusing. It was too dark for me to tell the color of his eyes, and frankly the mask hoods his eyes too much to see detail. His hair was properly oiled like any gentleman’s would be, so it wasn’t distinguishable. He was taller than me. And he had an athletic build.”

“Excellent detecting skills,” Amelia declared with a clap of her hands.

Willow frowned. “It sounds as if you got rather close to him.”

Charlotte cleared her throat and willed herself not to blush. “I believe I did.”

Willow let out another huff. “He should be more careful.”

Charlotte, Meg, and Amelia all turned to stare at Willow, gaping.

“What?”

“He should be more careful?” Amelia asked archly. “You are not at all concerned about our dear Charlotte, but you think that the Jack of Hearts should be more careful?”

It was Willow’s turn to gape. Then she snapped her mouth shut and gave a dismissive wave. “She should be more careful. That’s obviously what I meant to say. I merely misspoke.” She released a weak laugh. “Obviously all the late torrid nights with my husband are weaking my direction of thought.”

Amelia gave a thoughtful hum as she studied Willow, before turning to Charlotte. “Well? Let’s have it. What did he say to you?”

This was her opportunity. The moment she could confess to her friends that she’d allowed the renowned thief, the Jack of Hearts, to steal a kiss. And not just any kiss, but the single best kiss of her life. Despite being an unwed maiden, she’d had her share of kisses. And then some. But she didn’t want them to know about this one. Not yet. She wanted to keep that moment between them as just that. A secret moment shared in the darkness.

“Yes, that was all. What was I supposed to do?” Charlotte asked.

“Rip his mask off and box his ears,” Amelia said, then shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

“I cannot believe it,” Meg said. “I simply cannot believe it. Do you know what this means?”

“That even the scoundrels in London find her irresistible? That even thieves want to be close to her?” Meg asked.