Extended Epilogue
Six years later
Today marks the twelfth year of the Rogue. London, we know that without this man, life would be utterly dull. Although we are still curious, we no longer wish to unmask him. The great service he does society is enough. However, we would like to see him more often. Once or twice a year is ridiculous! How can we persuade our dear Masked Rogue to make merry on our streets more? What more can we do to prove that we deserve his presence?
Then there is our Comtesse, who is more elusive than the Rogue. It has been over a year, but every woman wishes to be her. It is no longer a secret that she is married to the Masked Rogue but there are many unfortunate men who still dream of attaining her.
“London wishes to know what color and style the Comtesse would wear next time she is out in town,” Phoebe declared as she set aside the gossip sheet she had been reading.
Once in a while, the Rogue and Comtesse went out to play, giving the aristocracy a little treat to treasure until the next time. Society’s obsession with them had only grown, and the ladies were beginning to match their fashion to the Comtesse’s, but with a few modest changes.
“Oh, that is nonsense!” Hannah said from her seat. She was happily married to Wessberg, and she had just told Natalie that morning that she was carrying her second child. She no longer wrote for The Londoner, claiming it was because of their obsession with the Rogue and Comtesse.
Natalie knew the actual reason was that she had enjoyed the quest for their identity, and once she knew, she lost all interest. Besides, her five-year-old daughter, Rosalie, kept Hannah occupied.
“If ladies of the ton truly wish to be inspired by the Comtesse’s style,” Hannah continued, “then they should not change anything about it.”
“How scandalous that would be!” Phoebe laughed.
“Society would never do that, Hannah,” Natalie giggled.
“Oh, but it is certain to add a very interesting twist to things, do you not agree?” Phoebe said with a sly glint in her eyes.
Before Natalie could respond, her son’s beleaguered nurse, Miss Davis, walked into the drawing room.
“I cannot find him, Your Grace,” she said. “I have looked everywhere!”
“Oh, dear.” Natalie set down her teacup and got to her feet, walking out of the room. She asked the nurse to search the upper floors again while Natalie would look around the first floor.
She had just rounded a corner in the hallway when something poked one of her legs from behind. “En garde!” came a tiny but familiar voice.
Natalie smiled before she turned to the sight of her five-year-old son, Henry. He was clutching a small foil, and his large blue eyes were sparkling. He looked just like Jasper, but instead of raven hair, his was a tawny color that she thought was utterly adorable.
“Well done, Henry,” Natalie chuckled. “What a clever way to run from Miss Davis.”
“I run from her because she refuses to fence with me,” he complained.
“I will play with you soon,” she reassured him as her eyes moved around for his companion. “Where is Rosalie?” They ought to be together, and Natalie felt a little nervous about what mischief the girl would get up to by herself.
“I do not know,” Henry replied, but there was a glint in his eyes that said otherwise.
“Very well, then. Since you have lost your cousin, I suppose we could not be fencing anytime soon,” Natalie said and waited patiently for his reaction. His eyes darted to the side as he contemplated.
“I know where she is, Mama.” He led Natalie up to the room she used as a workroom, and sitting atop a pile of fabrics was Rosalie. She had silk and lace sashes draped all over her, and she hummed a cheerful tune, unaware of their presence. Henry covered his mouth to keep from laughing.
Now that she was a duchess without any financial troubles, she no longer needed to sew, but she occasionally made dresses for herself in the style she preferred, and of course, for the Comtesse De Villepin.
Natalie cleared her throat, and Rosalie started, turning and giving her a sheepish look. “Aunt Natalie, I was…” she trailed off and looked away.
Natalie smiled and offered the girl her hand. “Come, I have some sugar plums for you.” Taking Rosalie and Henry’s hands, she returned them to the drawing room.
Her heart fluttered the instant they walked in and she saw Jasper, who had just returned from the House of Lords.
“En garde!” Henry jumped forward with his flimsy foil, challenging his father.
Natalie watched with so much warmth in her heart as her husband sparred with their son with an invisible saber.
“I concede!” Henry cried when their sparring ended in his defeat, and Jasper scooped him up, tickling him.
Miss Davis appeared just as Jasper set him down and Henry let out a squeal in protest before running to hide behind Phoebe. It was time for his violin lessons, and although he was developing his talent, it would appear he did not wish to attend today. Phoebe picked a shortbread from the tea tray, and after much placation, she got him to acquiesce.
***
“I hope you will come to Kent to celebrate Michaelmas with us. Yours always, George.” Jasper looked up at Natalie from the missive he had just finished reading and smiled.
George was inviting them to the country where he was happily rusticating with his wife and two children. The Clifford fortunes had recovered. In fact, Jasper had invested greatly in the Coal Factory and Mines after it was taken away from Oliver, and the business was thriving, now more than ever.
As for Oliver, he left England, and no one knew where he was. Not that any of them cared. He had caused them so much pain that they wanted no news of him. There was a rumor about him losing all of his wealth, however.
“So, Comtesse.” Jasper set the missive down. “What color is it going to be next?” he asked the question that London desperately sought an answer to. He was still impressed by his wife’s skill, and how she made daring dresses for the Comtesse. Dresses that drove him mad with lust.
“I was thinking of violet,” Natalie replied as he pulled her close and trailed kisses down her jawline. They had made it a habit over the years where he was not allowed to see the Comtesse’s dresses until she wore them on the nights they played.
“Violet…” Jasper mused. “Then I might have the perfect thing to go with it.” He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a small box, handing it to her.
Her brilliant eyes sparkled like ambers, and when she opened the box, a little gasp escaped her. Sitting on a velvet cushion was a tear-shaped amethyst ring, surrounded by tiny diamonds. Natalie stared at the gift in awe, and he removed it from the box and slipped it onto her slender finger.
“This is lovely, Jasper!” she breathed. “The Comtesse is the amethyst, and the diamonds her admirers,” she said, and he began to laugh. Her eyes met his. “Do you think we should name our second child Amethyst? If a girl, of course.”
“That is an excellent name.” He kissed her fingers. “Did you know that the Amethyst symbolizes healing?” he murmured.
“It does?”
“Yes. My broken soul found salvation when you walked into my life, Natalie.” He cradled her cheeks and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for healing me, and for teaching my heart how to love and hope again.”
“Oh, Jasper.” She did not need to say anything because he could see every emotion in her eyes. He kissed her lips for several seconds, reveling in her familiar yet sensually intoxicating taste.
Her brows creased in thought when he pulled away, and she suddenly asked, “How did you know to get a ring that would fit the Comtesse’s next dress?”
“I was thinking of what ring to get you, and Rosalie happened to reveal to me that she saw a beautiful violet dress in your workroom. It gave me the notion to, and when I discovered what the gem symbolizes, it was all I needed to proceed.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and climbed onto his lap. He hardened immediately, and his arms moved to circle her waist. His mouth was seeking the soft skin of her neck when a thought came to him.
“What do you think of the Rogue and his Comtesse paying London a visit tonight?” he asked, watching her eyes grow wide with surprise and anticipation. Their visits were sporadic, and they often dressed as their alter egos to please each other.
Making an unexpected appearance tonight was bound to shake society, and luckily, his wife was just as much of a rogue. She climbed out of the bed and ran to the dressing room. When she reappeared, she was holding a daring violet silk dress.
Jasper rose to help her dress, glancing at the clock and calculating how long that would take. It was past eleven, and if he behaved himself, she would be ready in fifteen minutes.
An hour later, he offered Natalie his hand. He had promised to behave but she had been too tempting to resist, and he had to give her pleasure. “Are you ready?”
“I am ready for anything, Jasper, with you by my side.” She gave him a brilliant smile.
“And you shall always have me, my love.” He stole a kiss before they disappeared into the night, as the Rogue and his Comtesse that they were, and always would be.