Page 124 of A Troublesome Circumstance

His father gave a final nod. “I am going to rest before joining Lady Redden for dinner.” And with that, he turned towards the door just as Rupert entered.

“Your Grace,” Rupert said, inclining his head respectfully as he and the duke passed one another.

When the door closed behind the duke, Rupert’s formal expression melted into a smug grin. “I have come bearing news.”

Jude crossed his arms. “Which is?”

Rupert sauntered farther into the room and helped himself to the nearest chair. “I paid a visit to the editor-in-chief of The Morning Post and explained—in very clear terms—the folly of printing such rot about Lady Josephine. I told him that if he chose to proceed with that fabricated story, he would make enemies of very important people… including the future Duke of Ashmoore.”

Jude arched a brow. “Did that sway him?”

“Not in the slightest,” Rupert replied. “I threatened a suit for slander. He still wouldn’t budge.”

Jude exhaled, turning away, staring into the hearth’s orange glow. The fire snapped loudly. “Thank you for trying.”

Rupert stretched out, draping an arm over the chair. “I left feeling rather defeated. Until I returned home and mentioned the situation to my father.”

“What of him?”

Rupert’s grin sharpened. “It seems that one of his subsidiary companies owns The Morning Post.”

Jude blinked, then straightened fully. That was… unexpected.

Rupert continued, clearly enjoying the storytelling. “After I pleaded your case—quite eloquently, I might add—Father agreed to intervene. He paid a personal call to the man who oversees the newssheet.”

Jude’s pulse quickened. “And?”

Rupert’s grin widened into pure triumph. “And you need not fear. The story will never see the light of day. At least not from The Morning Post.”

Jude let out a shaky laugh, sinking into the armchair opposite Rupert, relief washing over him. “What if Broderick goes to another newssheet?”

Rupert waved a dismissive hand. “It would do him little good. The two most-read newssheets in London are The Morning Post and The London Gazette—which, if memory serves, your brother owns.”

A stunned, incredulous sound escaped Jude’s throat. “Is this truly happening?”

“It is,” Rupert said with a smug satisfaction only he could manage. “I assure you.”

Jude leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the tension bleed out of him. “How can I thank your father? And you?”

“No need to thank me,” Rupert said, amused. “But as for my father—well, he does love being thanked. Preferably with brandy.”

Jude’s lips quirked. “That, I can do.”

For the first time in days, his breath came easily. Nothing stood between him and Josie now. No scandal. No ruin. No forced marriage. He could choose her—and she could choose him.

He opened his eyes, heart pounding with new purpose, and began to rise⁠—

The door flew open once more.

Lord Redden strode inside, his expression taut with alarm. “We have a problem,” he announced.

The fragile peace Jude had found shattered instantly.

Jude shot to his feet so quickly the chair scraped harshly across the floor. His heart hammered against his ribs, the echo of Lord Redden’s words drowning out everything else.

“Is Josie all right?” he demanded, his voice tight.

Redden hesitated—hesitated—and Jude’s blood ran cold.