Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

T iny dots of the late-night mist chilled Gideon's red cheeks as he strolled through his garden. The final wave of guests from the ball had departed almost an hour ago, and though dawn was creeping closer, he knew he stood no chance of sleeping tonight. Every time he closed his eyes, the hauntingly determined gaze of Lady Amelia's blue eyes filled his vision.

And the memory of her only confounded him further.

Grimacing, he spun the mask in his numb fingers, not thinking as he idly made his way down a short set of steps that delved out of his garden and into the grove of trees behind his manor. He had brought the mask with him on a whim, but now he wondered if it might have been a mistake. It was usually an extension of his arm whenever he was alone, whenever his mind overtook him. But now he couldn't help but think that perhaps his attachment to the old mask was what gave him away to Lady Amelia. Perhaps she had seen the Masked Rogue before and connected the dots when seeing the mask again.

"Nonsense," he mumbled under his breath. Most of London had hardly seen him without the mask, let alone with it.

He exhaled heavily. As soon as he'd returned to the ball after Lady Amelia's hasty retreat, he'd spent most of the night trying to douse the rumors that were spreading like wildfire. Both lords and ladies who were even slightly acquainted with him were bold enough to interrogate him about them, and while Gideon hadn't been able to convince them that they'd seen someone else, he'd managed to make them believe that it was not entirely what they thought. That the lady they'd caught in his arms was no casual acquaintance. It was the only thing he could think of at the time and he knew he might have just damned himself into accepting Lady Amelia's demands by doing so. He'd bought himself a few days of reprieve from the rumors but Gideon was acutely aware of the looming expectations for an announcement of courtship or marriage.

He cursed under his breath, frustrated that he had backed himself into a corner like this. Looking back at the mask, he knew he had very limited options. Right now, his years of meticulously planned revenge were being jeopardized by a brazen chit with aspirations of being a duchess, and he had little choice but to accept his fate in all of this. Not to mention the fact that his reputation would be severely affected if he didn't.

Perhaps I should be rid of the mask from now. Perhaps I should simply get it over with.

He stopped, battling with the insane urge to crush the mask in his hands and leave his fate to chance. But then he realized just how far he had wandered from home. Little moonlight filtered through the dense canopy of trees above, and his eyes needed some time to adjust to his new surroundings. But when they finally did, he realized just where his feet had taken him.

The small slab of gray stone was the only thing that marked the area as special. Gideon swallowed thickly, the frustration melting out of him. Slowly, he approached the grave and sank onto the ground without hesitation.

"Hello, brother," he greeted under his breath.

Heavy silence met his words. Gideon reached out, brushing his fingers against the stone. It was encrusted with dirt and growing moss, so he made a mental note to have it tended to in the morning. But for now, it was only him and his brother, even though the latter was no longer around to answer him.

"I'm sure, if you were alive right now, you would know what I should do," Gideon said softly. "You always had the sharper mind, even as a child. I admired you for that."

The words ‘ Jasper Terrell ' stared back at him in the quiet. Gideon gently brushed away the grime that obscured the name. Jasper had been a mere boy of ten at his passing, having spent the majority of his life bound to either his bed or a wheelchair. Which meant he spent much of his time consuming the written word and had the wisdom to show for it. Gideon remembered their late-night meetings, when Jasper would sweat and pant in pain, unable to sleep, and Gideon would crawl into bed to comfort him with his favorite books.

"I still miss you," Gideon whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He took a deep breath, struggling against the sorrow that threatened to draw tears.

For so long, Jasper had been the center of Gideon's world. Born with a disease that kept him under the care of the family physician, Jasper wasn't given many opportunities. And born as the strong and healthy heir of the dukedom, Gideon had carried nothing but guilt knowing that his brother was bound to suffer most of his life.

Jasper's life was tragically cut short at the age of ten, when Gideon was merely fifteen years of age. And that death was the reason Gideon wore the mask.

The soft crunch of gravel behind him signaled Gideon of an approaching figure, but his eyes never left Jasper's gravestone.

"I suspected I'd find you here."

Stifling the emotion that had been rising up his throat, Gideon replied, "What are you still doing here, Lewis? The ball ended some time ago."

"That, my friend, is a lost battle between me and the drink. I was in my cups and fell asleep in one of your guest chambers," Lewis quipped, his tone light. As he neared, he crouched beside Gideon, his gaze also falling on the stone. "I thought to wake you and drag you to the parlor for a game of billiards but you were nowhere to be found."

"Perhaps it's time you sought new companions," Gideon drawled.

Lewis responded with a soft laugh. "Well, it is a good thing I stuck around, eh? One of those nights?"

Gideon didn't have to ask Lewis what he meant. He'd carried Jasper's death like a sore wound that refused to heal. On the better days, it was the rage and vengeance that fueled him—that drove him forward. But on days like this, the deep sadness he'd never gotten over came rushing to the fore.

"He did not stand a chance," Gideon murmured. Though he stared at the gravestone, he saw nothing but Jasper taking his final breath. Gideon's first and only taste of real death had left him utterly scarred. "Father took away his chances. They took away his chances. That is why I cannot rest until I find every single one of them and make them suffer the way they made him suffer."

Lewis was quiet for a long moment. But then he said, "Well, you're in luck. I have found the name of the final Serpent."

Gideon's gaze snapped to Lewis, "And when were you planning to inform me of this?"

"When the wine stopped creating a twin of you," Lewis replied cheekily.

But Gideon was hardly in the mood to entertain his friend's humor. "Who is it?"

Lewis hesitated, then said, "The Earl of Appleby."

The final Serpent to ruin. Hearing the name filled Gideon with a renewed sense of purpose. He couldn't stop now. He was on the precipice of avenging Jasper's pain, and nothing should deter him.

And he wouldn't let anything— anyone —stand in his way. If Lady Amelia was so insistent on binding herself to him through marriage, then so be it.

Having reflected on it through the night, one thing was clear. if she truly persisted with this, then Gideon had no plans of giving her a peaceful marriage. Gideon resolved to make the union so tumultuous that she'd seek an annulment in mere weeks. And after those weeks, he'd exact his vengeance.

"What's your next move?" Lewis asked, clearly sensing that Gideon was deep in thought.

Gideon looked down at the mask. "The Masked Rogue will live on for one more month. That should be all the time I require to bring down the Earl of Appleby."

Lewis raised a brow. "And what of the lady you were caught with tonight? Try as you might, Gideon, you will not be able to quell the rumors for much longer. Would you truly marry her to stop them from talking?"

"I'm not worried about her. Once she sees that I would make for a terrible husband, she will leave. Ideally within the week. Then I shall have both my revenge and my freedom."

"…When will this fixation end, old boy?"

Lewis' somber tone confused Gideon for a moment. "Are you suggesting I settle down with a lady who sought to ensnare me?

"No, regarding your vendetta. Tell me, is it something Jasper would have wanted? Something your father would have asked of you?"

"My father was a na?ve fool. And Jasper bore the brunt of his folly. I shan't let those involved get away with the things they've done."

Lewis was quiet but wore a frown that made Gideon think he did not agree. Gideon clapped him on the shoulder, then rose to his feet.

"Once I've dealt with the Earl, I shall be done with this," he assured Lewis. "I will have settled everything. Then, my time will be devoted to being the exemplary Duke. Surpassing my father and his father before him."

Lewis pushed himself to a stand, stretching the aches from his legs. "You are already twice the man your father ever was, Gideon. I'm sure Jasper would have been proud of you."

Gideon said nothing to that. It was obvious that Lewis did not fancy his idea to go after the Earl, but he did not want to ask him why. He didn't need another reason standing between him and his final revenge. Lady Amelia had done a good enough job of that herself.

So he slung an arm around Lewis, and they made their way back to the manor. Now that he felt a renewed sense of purpose, Gideon's dour mood had improved. In the morning, he would confront Lady Amelia and her ultimatum.

But for tonight, he could comfort himself with the thought that everything would be over soon.