Page 39 of A Troublesome Circumstance

“I…” Josephine began, but before she could gather her thoughts, the door opened and Lord Luca entered, his presence commanding the room at once.

He inclined his head politely towards her. “I came to inform you that Jude has retired to his cottage,” he said. “We felt it best he return to his duties as gamekeeper.”

The words struck her like a physical blow. “Oh,” she breathed, the single syllable escaping before she could contain it. He had left? Without even saying goodbye? After everything?

Had she meant so little to him?

Lord Luca crossed to the opposite settee and took a seat, his gaze steady but not unkind. “It is for the best,” he said.

“Yes,” she murmured, forcing the word past the lump in her throat. “It is.” Perhaps if she said it often enough, she might believe it.

“I know you and Jude have grown… acquainted,” Lord Luca continued delicately. “But you must understand that such familiarity is most improper. Now that Jude has gone⁠—”

“There you are!”

Josephine’s heart leapt. She turned towards the doorway—and there he was. Jude. He filled the space effortlessly, tall and confident, his dark hair slightly disheveled.

Lord Luca rose sharply. “What in the blazes are you doing here, Jude? I thought we agreed you would return to the cottage at once.”

Jude’s expression was grave. “We did, but something has come up.”

“Of course it did,” Lord Luca muttered under his breath, folding his arms.

Jude’s gaze found Josephine’s, steady and sure. “Someone approached me,” he said, “and asked if you were staying here at Ashmoore Hall.”

Josephine’s pulse faltered. “Who?”

“I don’t know his name. He wouldn’t give it,” Jude replied. “But he was tall, with a long face, a straight nose, and an arrogance that could sour milk.”

Josephine’s hand flew to her mouth. “That sounds like Mr. Broderick. How did he find me?”

Lord Luca answered grimly. “We sent word to the constable that you were in residence here. If Mr. Broderick heard it from him—or one of his men—it would explain how he knew.”

Josephine shot to her feet, panic rising in her chest. “Then I must leave. I cannot stay here.”

“No,” Jude said firmly, stepping closer. “You are safe here, Josephine. No one—not even Mr. Broderick—will reach you.”

Lord Luca nodded, though his frown deepened. “Jude is right. My staff is loyal and the grounds are well-guarded. You will remain safe until your family arrives.”

Her voice trembled. “And then? What happens when he finds me again? He will not stop.”

“I will see that guards accompany you to London,” Jude said immediately.

Lord Luca’s tone sharpened. “You overstep, Jude.” Then grudgingly, he added, “But he isn’t wrong. I will make the arrangements.”

Tears stung Josephine’s eyes. “I never gave Mr. Broderick reason to pursue me so relentlessly,” she said. “Why will he not leave me alone?”

“I don’t know,” Jude replied. “But I promise that we will keep you safe.”

She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

Before another word could be spoken, a commotion erupted in the entry hall—a woman’s voice, shrill with emotion.

“Josephine!”

Her breath caught. That voice⁠—

“Mother!”