Page 32 of A Troublesome Circumstance

Josephine shut the window, smiling to herself as she turned back to Lucy, who stood holding a rose-pink gown draped across her arms.

“I took the liberty of laying this out, my lady,” Lucy said with a knowing look.

Josephine’s cheeks warmed. “Yes—well—let us be quick about it, then.”

Within minutes, her nightgown was exchanged for the delicate afternoon gown. The soft muslin fabric tightened against her skin as Lucy fastened the tiny pearl buttons up her back.

“I was thinking a simple chignon,” Lucy said, freeing Josephine’s hair from its cap. “Tied loosely at the nape, perhaps?”

“That would be lovely,” Josephine responded, watching the maid’s reflection in the mirror.

After a pause, she bit her lower lip. “Tell me, Lucy… is Jude always so”—she hesitated, searching for the right word—“flirtatious?”

Lucy smiled faintly. “No, my lady. In truth, you are the first woman I’ve seen him show the slightest interest in since I started working here.”

Josephine’s brow furrowed. “Truly?”

“Truly. He is a good man, but one who carries the weight of something unspoken. Serious, but not unkind.”

“As a gamekeeper?”

Lucy shrugged gently. “Every soul bears burdens, no matter their station.” She winced, realizing her impertinence. “Forgive me. I spoke out of turn.”

“Do not trouble yourself,” Josephine said. “I find honesty far preferable to false decorum.”

Lucy smiled in relief. “You are kind to say so. My family depends upon my position here. I cannot afford mistakes.”

“Then you have my word, anything you say stays within these walls,” Josephine assured her.

Lucy placed the final pin and stepped back. “There. Is that to your liking?”

Josephine turned her head slightly and studied her reflection. The simple chignon suited her. “It will do quite nicely.”

“Good. Then go,” Lucy urged, offering a pair of white gloves. “He’s waiting for you.”

Josephine slipped them on but stopped at the door. “Do you think me foolish?”

“Foolish, my lady?”

“I am a lady, and yet here I am—spending time with a gamekeeper. If Society knew⁠—”

Lucy’s tone was gentle, but probing. “Do you care what Society thinks?”

Josephine stared at the floorboards. “I do… but⁠—”

“But?”

Josephine lifted her gaze towards the window where sunlight streamed in. “But there is something about Jude I cannot explain. He is a gentleman in every way that matters. In different clothes, I believe he could hold his own in any ballroom in London.”

“Then perhaps you should trust your instincts.”

“You must think me utterly ridiculous.”

“Not in the least,” Lucy replied. “You are making perfect sense to me.”

With that, Josephine drew a steadying breath and opened the door. She made her way down the corridors and towards the back of the house.

When she stepped onto the veranda, her eyes found Jude at once. He stood beside the practice table, the morning sun glinting off the dark strands of his hair. Two footmen lingered nearby, awaiting instruction, and yet it was clear he commanded the space—not as a servant, but as a man accustomed to leadership.