Page 141 of A Troublesome Circumstance

Once they were alone, Jude arched a brow. “If you are here to talk me out of marrying Josie, you will be sorely disappointed.”

“Good heavens, no,” Rupert said with a scoff. “That would be an unwinnable battle. I merely came to offer a wedding gift.”

Jude folded his arms. “Which is?”

Rupert lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I spoke to a judge who has agreed to transport Mr. Broderick.”

Jude stiffened. “But… what of a trial?”

Rupert’s smirk sharpened. “When I explained that abducting an heiress could result in hanging, Mr. Broderick became remarkably eager for transport.”

“And Lord Leroy Tweedale?”

“Oh, he accepted debtor’s prison,” Rupert said cheerfully.

“He agreed willingly?”

“Well,” Rupert drawled, “his alternative was a cramped, shared cell in Newgate. The condition of his sentence is that he refrains from dragging his family’s name through the mud.”

Jude stared at him, both impressed and confounded. “How did you manage this so quickly?”

Rupert gave a careless shrug. “I can be persuasive when the occasion demands it. And I wished to ensure the scandal did not follow you or Lady Josephine.”

Gratitude swelled in Jude’s chest. “Thank you, Rupert. Truly.”

“There is one thing I want in return.”

“Anything.”

Rupert’s gaze softened. “Be happy.”

“I am,” Jude said, the truth of it startling even himself. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”

“Good,” Rupert replied before he strolled away.

Jude climbed into the coach opposite his father and exhaled slowly, a smile blooming across his face.

“Today,” he started, “is a very good day to get married.”

EPILOGUE

ONE MONTH LATER…

Josephine sat curled in the small armchair near the hearth, a book open in her lap. She had been staring at the same paragraph for nearly ten minutes, her gaze drifting to the window yet again. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent her heart leaping in hopeful anticipation. Jude had ridden to Ashmoore Hall for additional supplies several hours earlier, and although she trusted he was perfectly capable, she still counted the minutes until his return.

She loved being here with him in the cottage—loved the simplicity of it, the ease of their days. Loved him. She doubted she would ever tire of his presence, or of the way he teased her, or of the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching.

A distant sound broke through her thoughts.

Hoofbeats.

Her fingers tightened around the edges of her book. When the steady rhythm of the hooves grew louder—closer—Josephine’s pulse fluttered. She set the book aside and rose just as a firm knock sounded on the door.

“Josie, it is me,” Jude called out.

Smiling, Josephine approached the door. “You will have to be more specific than that,” she said, unable to resist. “There are a great many unsavory people who wander these woods.”

A low chuckle answered her. “You are a minx, my love.”