Chapter 5
Jude silently signaled Sam and Lord Barton to return to the gathering without her.
When Sam gave her a questioning glance, Jude cocked her head in the direction of the other partygoers once more.
Neither she nor her twin was adept at taking direction—or hints—from others or each other.
Many twins Jude had read about seemed to live in a constant state of awareness in regards to their womb mate, but unfortunately for Jude, that was not the case with her and Sam.
Except for their identical appearance, they could not be more different.
“Bloody fool, ignorant scalawag,” Lord Cartwright mumbled as he lifted his leg and applied his hands to his bent knee to stand. “Inconceivable, blundering mug. You should refrain from polite society, for certain.”
Jude wanted to laugh at the entire debacle but kept her gaiety to herself.
Normally, social excursions fell into either the tedious category or utter boredom, but Lord Cartwright was a bout of fresh air—though her amusement at this expense was not something she would ever share with him.
She did not seek to wound his pride further than it already was.
His every movement was calculated and precise—something Jude was unfamiliar with as she was prone to hasty decisions. Obvious from her part in stealing the vase from Lord Gunther’s home.
But Cart’s stumble was nothing deliberate and Jude felt a measure of responsibility for his fall.
She’d been distracting him, though if she were truthful, he had distracted her just as fully.
His reluctant smiles and odd choice of topics had interested her greatly.
That he looked the perfect gentleman next to her a boon.
He did not speak of trivial things to appease her supposedly delicate sensibilities.
Lord Cartwright gained his feet and ran his hands down his trousers to remove some of the filth that clung to the material, his head hung in disgrace.
“If I traverse the edge of the pond and duck behind the trees bordering the property, I can escape without further incident,” he continued to talk to himself, fully unaware of her presence on the shore.
“But then how will I journey home? I arrived with Barton. Maybe a hackney? How does one gain the attention of one?”
Lord Cartwright continued to work through his dilemma audibly, something Jude had never witnessed thus. Nevertheless, she could certainly see the benefit to puzzling through one’s problems aloud.
“Lord Cartwright?” Jude hated to disturb him or humiliate him further by alerting him to her presence. “My family carriage is in the drive. I can have my coachman deliver you home and then return for my sister and me.”
“Jude.” He turned to face her, heat creeping up his neck. “You should attend your sister…return to the gathering…enjoy your afternoon.”
She should be doing all those things, yet, Jude could not abandon Lord Cartwright to sulk out of Lady Haversham’s gardens.
A quick glance over her shoulder told her the others had gone back to the festivities, Lord Cartwright’s stumble into the pond forgotten for the moment—likely to be retold over evening meals in numerous households across London.
Instead of fleeing, Jude offered a warm smile and her arm—she only wished she was in the habit of carrying a towel with her.
“I do not believe we are finished with our stroll, my lord.” When he stared at her, his mouth gaping open, she continued, “Please allow me to accompany you to my carriage. My coachman will make sure you arrive home safely, without any further…” Her words trailed off, at a loss for what to say. “…incident.”
“I am quite capable of securing transport home,” he countered. “I am no damsel in distress.”
Jude laughed at his twist of her previous words.
“I think we have both established we are not helpless creatures.” She hoped his wounded sensibility would improve with a bit of coaxing.
“Same as we can agree that you requested my company for a stroll, not out of any obligation or male possessiveness, but because we might enjoy one another’s companionship.
” He nodded. “This is much the same. I do not feel any obligation to assist you in departing Lady Haversham’s gathering—I believe we have enjoyed our short stroll and wish it not to end on a sour note. ”
And Jude desperately wanted to learn more about his position as a collector—namely, if he or one of his associates would be interested in the vase.
Her day had taken a grand turn by making his acquaintance; a new home for the vase was possibly on the near horizon, and money to add to the Craven House coffers.
Lord Cartwright had made it clear that he was an amateur collector, which boded well for her and Sam.
It was possible Cart had no previous knowledge of the vase’s origins—or its current status as stolen.
“Are you certain you seek to be seen with me”—he gestured toward his soiled attire—“in this condition? I have it on good account that a woman’s status in society is based on her every decision, both favorable and unfavorable. I would never wish a bad light to be cast on you or Miss Samantha.”
Again with his verbiage mirroring a lady’s guide to modesty.
“Do you always fret so much, my lord?” Jude didn’t bother to dampen her grin.
“I can compile a list of things far more worrisome than me being spotted in your company. Specifically, what your valet will say when he sees how you’ve fairly ruined your jacket and breeches.
He will likely need hours to repair the damage done to your boots alone. ”
A startled expression covered Cartwright’s face and he looked down at his once finely pressed linen shirt, his artfully tied neckcloth now limp about his neck.
Jude could only describe his look as utter and complete horror at the sight of himself. Water still dripped from his coattails and his hair stuck out in every direction.
“I jest with you, my lord,” Jude teased. “But I do suggest we continue on our path, which will eventually lead to the front drive—and my family’s carriage. I will make any excuses you wish as to your hurried departure.”
“I am not usually such a wreck,” he replied to her offer. “It is simply—“
“There is no need for you to explain yourself to me.” Though Jude found herself wanting to know more about him, curious as he was with his odd behavior.
“But if you wish, you may as we continue our walk.” Jude set her hand on his wet coat arm and stepped back on the path, giving him little option but to follow her lead—or appear the ungentlemanly lord who refused her.
She didn’t know much about the man next to her, but she did get the impression he would never insult someone so blatantly. And true to her assessment, he fell into step next to her. He did not, however, walk as closely as before, more than likely out of fear of soiling her skirt.
They strolled in silence until they reached the far side of the pond where they could continue a straight path and reach the front drive or continue along the water’s edge and return to the gathering beyond. Jude held back and allowed Lord Cartwright the choice.
Would he feel obligated to return to the party, or accept Jude’s offer of transport?
Ironically, he settled on neither as he stopped and faced her, taking a step closer to her and removing her hand from his moist sleeve. “It has been lovely making your acquaintance.”
“And yours, my lord,” she said with a tentative smile, unsure what was to happen next.
“I hope it is not too forward of me to ask, but…”
“Anything between friends can be overlooked.” Her words were meant to encourage him to speak, but it only made him take a step back as he shifted nervously before her. “Cart?”
He moved his gaze from over her shoulder to meet Jude’s stare. “Please tell me if you find this unacceptable.” He paused again, gathering his thoughts—and possibly his bravado. “May I call on you at some future date?”
Future date… Jude wanted to ask exactly when that date would be.
Not only did she see potential for getting rid of that blasted vase and an end to her and Sam’s outlandish notions, but—if she were completely honest—Jude had enjoyed their short acquaintance immensely.
There was more to Lord Cartwright than anyone would ever assume.
The method with which Lord Barton had dismissed him was unjust and insulting, to say the least. Though, inviting Cartwright into Craven House, her home and sanctuary, was a daunting prospect.
How did one tell a lord in good standing that she lived in a former bordello?
That her mother, God rest her soul, had been the proprietor of London’s finest gentlemen’s house…
and that many in the ton still believed the property housed all sorts of sordid activities, even though that hadn’t been true in many years?
No, Jude desperately wanted to know more about Lord Cartwright, but at the expense of him learning her family’s past transgressions… Jude was unsure. Many did not look favorably on Craven House’s history.
He continued to stare, his brow furrowing and his mouth clenched tightly, awaiting her response.
“I would like that, my lord.” She only hoped the “future date” was sometime very soon.
There was little doubt that if he found out where she lived and whom she called family, he would certainly change his mind about calling on her.
Even with Lady Haversham sponsoring her and Sam before all of society, their chances of finding suitable men to offer for their hands was not stellar.
With no dowry to speak of and little to verify their acceptable lineage, they would be thankful to have younger sons or men of the upper merchant class for husbands.