Page 35 of Gilded Locks

The Rogue mirrored her stance, the hooded cloak and face coverings adding an air of power and mystique Grace envied. “Please, share this logic with me. I’m curious what reasoning derails the plans of such a stubborn individual as yourself.”

The urge to address him by name flared hot, but Grace reined it in. She wouldn’t let him get the best of her. She had a plan. Of course, it couldn’t hurt to prepare for the possibility that he would ignore her reasoning. She shifted toward the Rogue. “You’re aware of how the Rogue was caught and hanged twenty years ago, I assume.”

“You assume correctly.”

Grace nodded, using the motion to hide a step closer.

“Well then, I’ll grant you the courtesy of believing you’re smart enough to grasp what prancing about in that”—she gestured to him and stepped closer—“will earn you in the end, and jump right to the risks posed to the town of Fidara.”

He nodded. “Proceed.”

“Taxes. That’s what it comes down to.”

“Taxes?”

“Yes. The Rogue increases taxes.”

He was shaking his head now. Grace inched forward. “You’ve got that backwards,” he said. “The Rogue retrieves taxes and gives them back to the people.”

“He retrieves aportionof the taxes. In the end, you’ll cause more to be taken than you alone can retrieve and return.”

She was a few paces away from him now, and he moved closer to her. She felt the air around her warm with his body heat. Her heart thudded.

“Then join me,” the Rogue said.

Grace steeled herself against the enticing pull of that gentle plea. “Two of us won’t make up the difference either. It’s still a net loss for the town. Anything we returned to the people would just get taken again when Mayor Nautin increases the taxes the next day.”

The Rogue sighed. “It’s about more than numbers, Grace. Taxes are going to go up whether the Rogue is there or not. Butat least the people will believe they aren’t alone in this fight. Someone is fighting for them. They’ll rise up.”

It was Grace’s turn to shake her head. “I return to my first point. You’ll be caught eventually, and they’ll haul out the hangman’s post and secure a noose around your neck. You’ll give them hope, only to have it dashed. Beyond repair this time, because they will have lost too much, financially and emotionally.”

Grace stared into his eyes, willing him to hear her, to believe her.

“There are other ways to fight together against the mayor and sheriff.” She placed her hand on his arm, smiling at the muscle she felt beneath the cloth of his shirt.

His breaths were coming quickly. “It wouldn’t work. There’s not time.”

“Of course there’s time. All we have is time.” Grace thought of the long years of sitting ahead of her. “But, it’s more effective—and more fun—together.”

“You don’t know…”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t know me,” he whispered.

“I think I do,” Grace said.

With a jerk, the Rogue recoiled, shaking his head.

Sensing his movement, Grace lunged for his mask. Her fingers grazed the cloth about his mouth, displacing it slightly. She felt the scratch of stubble against her fingertips.

The Rogue let out a small, not quite so deep, “No,” then his hand was on the cloth, holding it in place as he retreated, putting too much distance between them for her to grab at the mask again.

Grace took in a hissed breath.So close!

“I knew not to underestimate you, Grace Robbins, and still, you nearly had me.”

The Rogue reached into a pocket and extracted an envelope, holding it out for her.

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