Page 112 of A Troublesome Circumstance

“Mr. Broderick said an article will be printed tomorrow,” Josephine choked out, “claiming I tried to elope with him to Gretna Green.”

Her mother’s eyes widened with fury. “What? He abducted you!”

“I know,” Josephine cried. “But he told The Morning Post that I went willingly. I am ruined.”

Lady Redden wrapped Josephine in her arms, holding her daughter tightly. “No… no, my darling. There must be a way out of this.”

“There isn’t!” Josephine sobbed. “And Lord Pendryn wants to marry me to protect me, but I won’t let him. I won’t ruin him, too. I won’t.”

Lady Redden smoothed her daughter’s hair, her voice soft but steely. “Josephine, my dear, you are not ruined. And we will find a way to undo this. I promise you that.”

But Josephine could only cling to her mother, feeling everything come undone at once—her reputation, her heart, her future.

And Jude.

Especially Jude.

The door swung open with a careless shove and Alexander strode into the entry hall, shrugging out of his greatcoat as though nothing in the world could possibly be amiss.

“What is the matter?” he asked, his tone maddeningly uninterested—as if she’d merely misplaced a glove.

Their mother released Josephine’s arms and turned towards him, her expression tight with controlled fury. “Mr. Broderick told lies to The Morning Post,” she said. “They are printing an unflattering article about your sister.”

Alexander frowned, but it was a mild confusion, not outrage. “What did he lie about?”

Josephine tried to steady her voice. “He told the newssheets that I eloped with him but the carriage accident stopped us.”

Alexander shook his head with firm disbelief. “No. Broderick wouldn’t do such a thing. I told him he couldn’t marry you.”

Josephine let out a humorless laugh. “Well, I won’t marry him regardless. Not if he were the last man on earth.”

Her brother began pacing, his boots striking sharp, angry notes on the marble floor. “What if I speak to Lord Pendryn? You could marry him and⁠—”

“No.” Josephine lifted her chin. “I won’t marry Lord Pendryn either.”

He spun towards her so fast she flinched. “Whyever not? If you don’t marry before that article comes out, no one will want you. You’ll be a spinster.”

“There are worse things,” she declared.

Alexander’s mouth twisted. “You don’t mean that. It’s just the delirium talking. You will marry Pendryn. His father is a duke and he has powerful allies. He will make it right; he has to.”

“I’m sorry,” Josephine responded. “But there must be another way.”

“There is no other way, Josephine!” Alexander exclaimed. “I don’t condone what Broderick did, but he made your bed and now you must lie in it.”

Josephine’s breath hitched, and she took a step back. “I’m sorry, but you are wrong.”

“I am not wrong!” Alexander barked. He turned sharply to their mother. “Talk some sense into her. She’ll be throwing away her future if she doesn’t marry Pendryn.”

“And he will be throwing away his future if he marries me!” she shot back.

Alexander threw his hands into the air. “But you love him! You told me as much this morning over breakfast.”

Josephine’s stomach twisted painfully. “Which is precisely why I won’t marry him.”

Alexander stared at her. “That… that is the most backwards thing I have ever heard.” He stepped closer, looming. “You will marry Lord Pendryn.”

“No,” she said, her voice steady though tears pricked her eyes.