Page 22 of A Troublesome Circumstance

Lucy continued to loosen the buttons. “He’s a good man, my lady. Quiet, but dependable. Keeps mostly to himself, though everyone here trusts him. He’s… well, honorable.”

Josephine turned her head slightly. “You seem fond of him.”

“Everyone here is,” Lucy replied simply. “You’re most fortunate he found you wandering in the woods. Many wouldn’t have taken the trouble to bring a stranger here.”

Josephine’s throat tightened at that. “Yes,” she agreed, her gaze dropping to the firelight. “I am most fortunate, indeed.”

Moments later, she slipped out of her ruined gown and stepped into the bath. The water was deliciously warm, scented faintly of rose oil. A sigh escaped her lips as the heat sank into her sore muscles.

Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Jude’s steady hands, his patient voice, the warmth in his eyes when he’d promised she would be all right. She smiled faintly and let herself sink a little deeper into the water, feeling the world’s weight ease, if only for right now.

Jude sat in the parlor, the fire crackling softly as he turned another page of the ledger before him. Numbers blurred into one another. He ought to concentrate—he had a great deal of work to see to—but his mind refused to stay fixed upon columns and sums. Maintaining the ruse of being a humble gamekeeper required careful planning, yet his thoughts drifted again to her.

He should leave—ride back to his cottage and put distance between himself and Lady Josephine before he did something reckless. But something rooted him in place. Perhaps it was the sense of duty, that protective instinct that had flared the moment he found her half-conscious in that cold, damp stable. Yes, that must be it. Surely, it had nothing to do with the way her eyes softened when she smiled… or the way her voice carried both strength and vulnerability.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. He had a good life. An honorable one. Yet even that felt like a burden these days. The weight of expectation, of duty, pressed upon him like armor that had long since grown too heavy to bear. His father’s voice—stern, commanding—echoed in his mind. Do not fail, Jude. You must live up to the name.

And what if he couldn’t? What if he never would?

A smooth, familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I understand we have a new gamekeeper.”

Jude’s head snapped up. Leaning lazily against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a smirk firmly in place, stood his brother.

“Luca,” Jude said, closing the ledger with deliberate calm. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still on your wedding tour.”

“We were,” Luca replied, stepping into the room. “But the roads were dreadful, and since Ashmoore Hall happens to be on our route back to London, we decided to stop for the evening. Far more comfortable than a coaching inn, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I do.”

“Speaking of making your life difficult… I also heard there’s a guest in residence. A certain Lady Josephine Tweedale?”

Jude stiffened slightly. “It is true. I found her in the stable at the cottage.”

“Found her?”

“At first I thought her dead,” he admitted. “But she was very much alive and brazen enough to threaten me with a pitchfork for my trouble.”

Luca laughed outright. “Good heavens, I like this young lady already.”

“I couldn’t very well leave Josephine there,” Jude said, his tone defensive even to his own ears. “She was injured and terrified. I brought her into the cottage, stitched her wound, and… well, she mistook me for the gamekeeper.”

“And you have done nothing to correct her?” Luca asked, his brows raised in amused disbelief.

“What choice do I have?” Jude countered. “If she knew who I truly was, word would spread before she even left this estate. I will not find myself the subject of speculation or an unwanted betrothal. Women of the ton can be… calculating.”

Luca arched a brow. “So you’ve often said. But tell me, Brother—do you truly believe Lady Josephine falls into that category?”

“I hardly know her,” Jude replied quickly. “It is not worth the risk.”

His brother’s knowing grin widened. “Of course. Entirely logical. Not worth the risk at all.”

Ignoring him, Jude rose and crossed to the sideboard to pour a glass of brandy. “She was abducted and taken against her will towards Gretna Green. The coach overturned in the storm, killing the driver and footman.”

“I daresay that she is lucky to be alive.”

“I agree, wholeheartedly. I’ve already sent riders to alert her family,” Jude remarked. “I expect a response within a few days.”