Page 80 of A Troublesome Circumstance

Alexander cleared his throat. “We should eat before our soup gets cold.”

Jude spooned up his soup, savoring the temporary quiet. It didn’t last.

“Do you think Elba will hold Napoleon this time?” Lady Redden asked.

The duke puffed out his chest. “Yes. Every precaution has been taken. He will not escape again.”

“I hope so,” Lady Redden replied. “I am tired of war. If it isn’t the French, it is the Americans.”

“That is hardly a war,” Alexander scoffed. “Blasted Americans. Why do they feel entitled to our land and our men?”

“Fortunately, our soldiers are well trained,” the duke said. “Unlike the Americans.”

“Americans are idiots,” Alexander muttered.

Josephine spoke up, her voice resolute. “I think it is brave, actually. They fought for what they believed in, even against all odds.”

“It did end well for them,” Jude conceded. “But their country is floundering.”

“They are young. Idealistic. I believe they will survive—perhaps even thrive given time.”

Jude lifted a brow. “It sounds like you are sympathetic to their cause.”

“I am,” she answered. “I feel some kinship towards them since women have to hide their intelligence here, for fear of ridicule. We are even told to keep our opinions to ourselves.”

“That is rubbish,” the duke declared. “My wife was never happier than in the midst of a heated debate.”

“Have you ever visited the back room of the circulating libraries?” Jude asked. “Women gather there to discuss politics, philosophy, everything.”

“It’s true,” the duke agreed. “My daughter-in-law, Charlotte, used to attend those meetings.”

As a footman collected their bowls, Jude turned to Josephine. “I would be happy to escort you to the library tomorrow. After our carriage ride.”

“I can see myself there,” she said. “But thank you for the kind offer.”

Alexander’s head snapped up. “You’re going on a carriage ride?”

“We are,” Jude confirmed.

“Perhaps Lady Gwendolyn and I will join you.”

Josephine froze, her eyes widening. “I… uh…”

Jude reached beneath the table for her hand and hoped she wouldn’t snatch it away. He found it, warm and tense, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“What Lady Josephine is trying to say,” Jude said calmly, “is that we would prefer to be alone.” He looked at her, offering a small, encouraging smile. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded. “Yes… my dear.”

And though it was strained, though it was awkward—Jude felt hope flicker to life.

“Well then,” Alexander said, “I can understand that sentiment all too well.”

Josephine immediately slipped her hand free of Jude’s beneath the table.

The loss of her touch hit him harder than he expected. She wouldn’t even look at him now. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with her. To explain. To apologize properly. To beg for even a sliver of the trust he’d shattered.

But now was not the moment.