Page 95 of A Troublesome Circumstance

Mr. Broderick. Perched on his horse like a crow over a carcass, his eyes glinting with malice.

Josephine didn’t bother with politeness. “What do you want, Mr. Broderick?”

“Nothing but the pleasure of your company.”

“Move on,” Jude snapped. “You are not welcome here.”

Broderick’s lips curled. “I came to speak to Lady Josephine.”

Josephine lifted her chin. “I have no desire to speak to you.”

“That is a shame,” Broderick drawled. “Since we shall be wed soon enough.”

“I would rather marry a pig dressed in your clothing,” Josephine shot back.

Broderick chuckled. “That is oddly specific, my dear.”

She bristled. “Do not call me that.”

Turning his head, Broderick said, “We appear to have an audience.”

Jude’s hands clenched into fists. “Leave us. And never bother Lady Josephine again.”

“That would be an issue,” Broderick started, “considering she was promised to me.”

“By whom?” Josephine demanded.

“By whom is irrelevant. But your coyness is delightful. I am rather enjoying this game that we are playing.”

Josephine leaned forward, fire in her gaze. “This is not a game. And I am not playing coy.”

Broderick smiled as if she amused him. “Are you considering what might have happened if the coach hadn’t overturned? We would be happily married by now.”

“I would still have thrown myself from the coach,” she declared.

“Ah, that was merely nerves.”

“You abducted me at gunpoint!” she exclaimed.

Broderick clucked his tongue. “Lower your voice, my dear, or someone might overhear.”

“I will never marry you,” Josephine asserted.

“Promises, promises.” He tipped his hat mockingly. “Enjoy the rest of your ride.” He trotted away.

“Audacious man,” Josephine muttered.

Jude turned to her, his heart pounding with urgency. “Now do you see why we must marry?”

She met his eyes, gentle but immovable. “I know you mean well, but you don’t want this marriage any more than I do.”

“That isn’t true,” Jude insisted. “We could make it work.”

“I don’t want to make it work. I want love. A partner. A lifetime.”

He exhaled heavily. “But what of Mr. Broderick?”

“What of him?” she asked. “I carry your mother’s muff pistol in my reticule. I will be prepared—if he comes again.”