Page 88 of A Troublesome Circumstance

Jude pressed his lips into a hard line. “That is most concerning.”

“I fear,” Lord Leroy said quietly, “that my nephew offered Josephine to Mr. Broderick as payment. I have seen the way that man looks at her. It goes beyond admiration. It is possessive.”

“We must keep Josephine safe,” Jude asserted.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Lord Leroy replied gravely. “Which is why…” He hesitated, visibly bracing himself. “Which is why you must marry her.”

Jude blinked. “Pardon?”

Lord Leroy winced as though expecting a blow. “I know it is drastic. But it is the only way to guarantee her safety. She would have the protection of your name, and Mr. Broderick wouldn’t dare approach her if she were your countess.”

The room suddenly felt too small, too still.

Jude rose abruptly and walked to the window, staring out at the gray London sky. “I care for Josephine,” he said slowly, “but marriage?”

Behind him, Lord Leroy stood as well. “From what I have gathered, Josephine holds you in high esteem. It might take some convincing on your part, but I do think the two of you could be genuinely happy.”

Jude turned sharply. “Your niece has told me she will marry for nothing less than love.”

Lord Leroy’s expression tightened. “She may not have the luxury of such conditions. I believe Mr. Broderick will not stop until he has her. And my nephew… my nephew may already have promised her to him.”

Jude’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “I would never allow that.”

“I know,” Lord Leroy responded. “Which is why I beg you to at least consider my suggestion. She needs protection. And she trusts you.”

The words struck him harder than he expected.

Consider it.

Marry Josephine to save her.

Lord Leroy inclined his head. “Think on what I’ve said. But I do believe it would be best to act sooner rather than later.”

Jude inhaled deeply. “I will speak with Josephine during our carriage ride.”

Relief washed over the man’s features. “Thank you, my lord.”

When Lord Leroy departed, closing the door firmly behind him, the study felt too quiet—too heavy.

Jude sank into his chair.

A marriage of convenience. A pledge of duty.

Wasn’t this exactly what he had sworn never to do again? Exactly the trap he’d nearly fallen into with Lady Gwendolyn—an arrangement built on expectation rather than truth?

But Josephine was nothing like Gwendolyn.

Josephine had looked at him—with his worn coat and muddy boots—and seen a man, not a title. She had offered him kindness without knowing who he was. She had trusted him, confided in him, smiled at him—even when she believed him to be nothing more than a gamekeeper.

Her goodness was not an act.

And the protectiveness that surged through him when she was near… that had never felt like duty. It felt like instinct. Like something older, deeper.

But marriage?

Could he ask her to enter a union built on danger and necessity? Could he bind her to him when she deserved a love match?

The long clock chimed, pulling him from the mire of his thoughts.