Page 21 of A Troublesome Circumstance

She feigned mock offense at his tone. “A gentleman would not comment on such needs.”

“I never claimed to be a gentleman,” he replied, softening his words with a grin. “Go. Enjoy your bath. I shall be here when you come down.”

“You promise?” The question slipped out before she could choose to be brave.

He cocked his head with that streak of roguish amusement in his expression. “Do not tell me you would miss me?”

“Heavens, no.” She heard the lie in the words and let it be. Instead, she added in a lighter voice, “But you did promise to teach me how to shoot. I hold you to it.”

His smile became something softer—an answer without words. “I give you my word.”

The maid stepped forward with a polite curtsy. “My lady, my name is Lucy. Please follow me, and I’ll show you to your bedchamber.”

Josephine hesitated. The offer of warm water and soap sounded heavenly, but as she stood there, she felt an unexpected tug inside her. She did not wish to leave Jude’s side—not yet. Over a short period of time, his presence had become her anchor, a quiet assurance that she was safe. The idea of being alone again, even in a grand house, unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Jude must have noticed the flicker of hesitation in her eyes because he said softly, “I promise, you’re safe here, Josephine.”

Something in his tone—steady, certain—dissolved the knot between her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself until that moment. “Thank you,” she replied.

He winked, a playful gleam in his eyes that caught her entirely off guard. It was such a boyish, charming thing to do that her stomach fluttered despite herself. She felt warmth climb her cheeks and quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Turning to Lucy, Josephine managed a faint smile. “Lead the way.”

The maid bobbed her head and led her towards the grand staircase. Josephine’s slippers made no sound on the thick carpet as they ascended. The house smelled faintly of lavender, and the soft glow of the afternoon light filtered through tall windows.

Lucy stopped before a polished oak door and opened it. “This will be your bedchamber, at least for the time being.”

Josephine stepped inside, and her breath caught. The room was exquisite—spacious, warm, and elegant. A large four-poster bed dominated one wall, its canopy trimmed in gold braid. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting light across two tall windows draped in deep purple silk that rippled gently with the breeze.

“I hope this will do,” Lucy said, closing the door softly behind them.

“It will do quite nicely,” Josephine replied, offering a faint smile.

Lucy gestured towards the hearth where a wide copper basin had been set near the fire, steam curling above it. “If you’ll allow me, my lady, I can assist you out of that gown.” Her expression softened. “And with your permission, I’d like to have it burned.”

Josephine looked down at the torn, muddied muslin clinging to her frame. “Burned?” she echoed, smoothing the fabric with one hand.

“It’s too far gone to mend,” Lucy replied. “And best to be rid of anything that reminds you of that ordeal.”

“But what will I wear afterward?”

Lucy moved to the wardrobe and opened it with a small flourish. “The late duchess’s gowns are still kept here. This one”—she withdrew a rich blue gown trimmed with delicate embroidery and puffed sleeves—“was made only months before her passing. I believe it will fit you with only minor alterations.”

Josephine’s eyes widened. “That gown is lovely.”

“The duchess commissioned several before she took ill,” Lucy said, brushing the fabric fondly. “The styles are not so out of fashion, and the quality—well, it is impeccable.”

Josephine crossed the room and ran her fingertips along the smooth muslin. “I do not think I have ever worn anything so fine.”

Lucy smiled, a hint of pride in her voice. “Then today shall be your first, my lady.” She laid the gown carefully across the bed. “Now, let’s get you into the bath. I’ll send for a tray since you must be famished.”

“I am,” she admitted.

As Lucy began unfastening the back of her gown, Josephine asked, “What do you know about the gamekeeper?”

“You mean Jude?”

“Yes.” She tried to sound casual, but her curiosity betrayed her.