Page 57 of A Troublesome Circumstance

She executed the quadrille steps perfectly, looking as graceful as he remembered. He had expected nothing less. But as he moved through the figures, a memory came unbidden—the last time he’d danced the quadrille with Lady Gwendolyn. The ring in his pocket had weighed so heavily he’d felt nearly dragged down by it. He had been a fool then, so close to offering his whole life to a woman who had never cared for him.

And then he heard her true opinion of him. She only wanted his title. Not him. How grateful he was that he never slipped that ring on her finger.

The music ended. Jude bowed. Josephine curtsied.

This time, he didn’t care about the consequences of being near her. He stepped forward, offering his arm. “You dance splendidly.”

“Thank you,” she said. “My dance master was relentless in ensuring I was properly trained.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Then I daresay he succeeded. You were the finest dancer on the floor.”

She snorted in the most unladylike—and utterly charming—way. “Then you must require spectacles.”

He didn’t want to walk away yet, so he asked, “Would you care for some fresh air on the veranda?”

Josephine froze.

Ah, fool. Fool, fool, fool.

Why had he said veranda? The very place Mr. Broderick had abducted her just a few days prior.

“Did I say veranda?” Jude corrected instantly, clearing his throat. “I meant the library.”

Her eyes brightened behind the enormous mask. “Now you have my attention, sir.”

Jude nearly laughed. “Are you well read?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She nodded with enthusiasm, the feathers wobbling dangerously. “I am. I love nothing more than reading near the fireplace.” She sighed softly. “Books are my greatest joy.”

“That sounds rather serene.”

“It is, but my brother disagrees. He thinks I should spend my time finding a husband.”

Jude studied her expression. “Do you want a husband?”

She gave a derisive huff. “Every woman is expected to want one. Society believes our only purpose is to marry and produce an heir.”

He leaned closer. “But what do you want? Not Society. You.”

Josephine hesitated. “I do want a husband. But not a marriage of convenience.”

“You want love.” He already knew. She had already told him. But he wanted to hear her say it.

She met his gaze directly. “I do. Though I have no idea why I am being so forthright with a stranger.”

“Strangers who shared a dance,” he reminded her.

Her lips pursed behind the mask. “Do I know you? Your voice seems… familiar.”

Panic fluttered in his chest. He couldn’t reveal the truth. Not here. Not yet. “Most likely it is because I am the most handsome man in the room,” he replied with exaggerated confidence.

Josephine laughed. “Ah, I see you are rather cocky.”

“The handsomest man in the room has found the most beautiful woman in the room. It is only logical.”

“How do you know I am beautiful?” she retorted. “My mask covers half my face.”

“Yes,” Jude said, “but the part I can see is beautiful.”