Page 26 of A Troublesome Circumstance

A quiet laugh escaped her. “Then I pity the poor woman who must compete for your attention.”

He looked down briefly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You flatter me, my lady.”

“I speak the truth,” she replied softly. “You have my deepest gratitude for everything you have done.”

He lifted a hand as if to stop her. “It was nothing.”

“To you, perhaps,” she countered gently. “But I shall see that you are compensated for your help.”

“I want no money.”

“Then tell me how I might show my thanks.”

Jude hesitated, his gaze searching hers. He raised his hand slightly, as though to touch her sleeve, then seemed to think better of it. “Promise me you won’t change,” he said. “Not after all this.”

A bittersweet smile touched her lips. “My brother might argue that a little change would do me good.”

He chuckled softly, then his expression sobered. “I have enjoyed our time together, Josephine.”

Before she could reply, Lord Luca’s voice interjected, his tone carrying a note of warning. “As far as Society is concerned, Jude found you in the woods and brought you directly here. We wouldn’t want tongues wagging, would we?”

Josephine’s cheeks burned. “Of course not, my lord.”

Jude’s eyes lingered on hers, the intensity of his gaze making her breath catch. “Take care of yourself, my lady.”

He reached for her hand, bowing low as his lips brushed her gloved knuckles. The touch was brief, chaste—and yet it sent a shiver through her.

“Jude,” Lord Luca said, his voice edged with disapproval. “You forget yourself.”

Jude met his master’s gaze without flinching. “Feel free to dismiss me, then,” he retorted, and turned away.

Josephine watched him go until he vanished into the dim corridor. Her chest ached with something she refused to name. She was a lady. He was a gamekeeper. There could be nothing between them—and yet.

“Shall we adjourn to the dining room?” Lord Luca’s voice drew her back to the present.

She nodded and followed them, her steps light but her heart heavy.

The dining room was grand and warmly lit, the mahogany table gleaming beneath the chandelier. A footman pulled out her chair, and Josephine murmured a quiet “thank you” as she sat.

As she arranged her napkin upon her lap, she turned to Lady Luca. “What did you think when you learned the duke had been transported for his crimes?”

“I was pleased,” she replied, her eyes sharp with conviction. “Though I confess, I wish he had been hung. Alongside his mistress and his son.”

Lord Luca shot her a look of amusement. “My dear wife is not one to temper her opinions.”

“I admire that,” Josephine said earnestly. “I wish I were as bold.”

“Boldness comes with practice,” Lady Luca replied, reaching for her wine. “And please, call me Charlotte. All my friends do. I hope you will count yourself among them.”

Josephine’s lips curved. “Only if you call me Josephine.”

“Agreed,” Charlotte said with a smile. “Jude mentioned you enjoy reading. You must explore our library. I spent hours in there this afternoon. It is divine.”

“I would love nothing more,” Josephine said eagerly. “My brother insists I suffer from reading mania.”

Charlotte laughed. “Then we shall be mad together. It is far preferable to embroidery or any other pursuits.”

“Needlework, painting, riding, shopping…” Lord Luca began in mock protest. “You ladies have plenty of other respectable pursuits.”