Page 63 of Rogue of My Heart

The man stood and walked towards Jack.

Jack motioned with the pistol for the man to move quicker. He handed the man an empty bag. “What’s your name?”

“Sir Percival Ogden,” the man said.

“Very well, Sir,” Jack emphasized the word as if it were poison on his tongue, “Ogden is going to come around with this bag. Kindly relieve yourself of any baubles. This will only take a moment.”

Sir Ogden started down the front row. Several of the people shifted anxiously in their seats. Charlotte knew why. She’d been in Jack’s presence before, but tonight he was different. More on edge, agitated. Perhaps he had imbibed before going out this evening.

Edmond moved in his seat as if he were about to stand. But from their position—in the middle of the rows—there was nothing he would be able to do.

“Do not think to do anything to save the evening,” Jack declared. “I am a rather good shot, I assure you.”

Edmond leaned closely to her ear. “Slip off your wedding ring and hand it to me,” he whispered.

His hot breath feathered across her skin. She did as he instructed and used the folds of her skirt to hide her actions. As she handed the ring to Edmond, she watched him skillfully tuck the ring away with no more than a slight movement of his hand.

“Do hurry,” Jack said. “I do have other parties to attend.” That, he seemed to find outrageously funny, because he released a hearty laugh.

As the bag passed to her, Charlotte took off her earrings and matching necklace. Both were paste so while it was inconvenient to part with them, it would not cost her any great loss. The man next to her dropped in his pocket watch, then passed the bag along.

Edmond, she had noticed, had not put anything in the bag, but Charlotte knew for a fact that he not only had a watch in his vest pocket, but he also wore a thin gold band on his right pinkie finger.

The bag finished being passed and Sir Ogden walked back over to Jack.

“Thank you, sir, for your assistance,” Jack said. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out something, then tossed it into the room. And with that, he turned, and ran out of the room.

Sir Ogden bent and retrieved the tossed item. “A playing card,” he said. “Jack of hearts.”

“That rogue,” one woman declared.

Lord Asterville was sputtering in the corner, evidently unable to believe his elite party had been intruded upon.

Edmond stood and held his hand out to her. “Let’s go,” he said firmly.

Which was fine for her. She was eager to mark down her observations. Something had been amiss though. Jack had not been himself, although he certainly had looked the same. The pistol had looked the same. Perhaps this is what her Jack had meant that night at the opera. About there being more than one masked thief.

Another puzzle to put together.

Meanwhile, her husband had been the very picture of calm through the entire ordeal. His competence and protectiveness were intoxicating. Though she truly did not need additional reasons to find Edmond appealing. Evidently, he’d been hiding before her very eyes for years, a veritable god among men.

If Edmond hadn’t been so angry, he would have laughed. The moment he tried to rid his life of the Jack of Hearts, some counterfeit version appeared on the scene.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved Charlotte’s ring. “Here,” he said.

“I’m sorry?” she said.

“Your ring.” He grabbed her hand and led it to his palm where he had her ring.

Her nails scrapped against his flesh as she picked it up. “Thank you. It is the only real piece of jewelry I own.”

Perhaps that meant she treasured it to some degree. Pride welled within him. He’d been rather particular when he’d selected her ring, wanting something unique and as beautiful as she.

“Did he frighten you?” Edmond asked.

“No,” she said, her voice lined with hesitation.

“What is it?” The carriage jostled, ramming her shoulder into his as they hit a hole in the street.