Page 10 of A Troublesome Circumstance

She let out a sigh, the sound weary but not defeated. “I don’t know. I imagine there’s a town nearby.”

“There is,” he said, leaning back in his chair, watching her over the rim of his mug. “But it’s a few miles south.”

“Then I’ll walk there,” she replied simply, as though that solved everything.

He nearly smiled. “What then?”

“I suppose I’ll try to send word to my mother and brother. They must be worried sick.”

“Do you have any money?” he asked.

Her lashes lowered, and she shook her head. “No. But surely someone will help me.”

Jude had to look away to hide his grin. “I wouldn’t count on that. The locals here aren’t known for their charity.” He paused, feeling an urge to help her. “Might I suggest another option?”

She lifted her eyes to him, curious. “Which is?”

“The Duke of Ashmoore’s estate lies a mile east. I can see you there myself, make certain you’re received and that they send word to your family.”

Her face brightened. “You would do that for me?”

“I would,” he said, then added with a half-smile, “if only because this cottage feels smaller with two people in it.”

A quiet laugh escaped her, the sound bright against the rhythm of rain. “I would be most grateful, truly. I don’t wish to be any more of a burden than I already am. You’ve already saved my life. I would have frozen last night had it not been for you.”

“Since I did save you, I think I’m owed one question.”

Her eyes flickered with caution. “Only one?”

“One will do.” He folded his arms, pretending to consider. “Have you been presented to the queen?”

Her brows lifted. “I have, many Seasons ago. Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity, mostly,” he said, though that wasn’t entirely true. He needed to know who she was, where she came from, and if her presence here was coincidence—or fate.

Josephine looked into the flames. “My father wished to see me presented. He was so ill then, but he refused to stay home. I remember thinking he would collapse at any moment, but he didn’t. He smiled the entire time.”

The melancholy in her tone struck something deep within him. Jude leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “It’s difficult watching someone you love fade away before your eyes.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I wish I could turn back time, even for a single moment, to see him again.”

He nodded slowly. “I feel the same way about my mother.”

Silence settled between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Only the rain broke the stillness, drumming steadily against the roof and the windowpanes.

Jude leaned back in his chair, staring into the fire as his mind began to turn. Lord Redden. The name echoed faintly in his memory, tugging at something half-buried beneath years of political discussions and social gatherings he’d rather forget. He’d heard his father speak the name with admiration, and he had died a few years ago.

Could that be Josephine’s father?

Jude rubbed a hand across his jaw, considering. It made sense, but how to ask? Plainly? Casually? Or not at all? What would happen if he were right? Would she deny it? Run? Or worse—turn the accusation back on him for prying?

He decided the direct approach was best. He had little patience for games.

He cleared his throat. “Is your father Lord Redden?”

The effect was immediate. Josephine froze. Then a flicker of alarm crossed her features, quickly replaced by practiced composure. “How do you know that name?”

Jude couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at his lips. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”