Chapter 9
Jude understood the grave mistake she’d made the minute she stepped over the threshold and into Lord Cartwright’s home.
Her hesitancy had nothing to do with her being an unchaperoned female of worth arriving at a gentleman’s home without proper companionship.
In fact, Sam had fairly begged to come with her.
Languishing on and on about the usefulness of a man such as Lord Cartwright.
Jude hadn’t liked her sister’s tone or her insinuation when she’d spoken of Cart—namely, the chances of him having a collection so vast he wouldn’t notice an item or two missing.
Even the sparsely decorated and meagerly furnished home before her wasn’t what put her on high alert as to her surroundings and the critical error she’d made by accepting the butler’s request for her to enter.
Certainly, the paltry adornment of the foyer with its brass sconces, lack of portrait where one had clearly once hung, and the bare floor should have sent her running—giving her sincerest apologies and fleeing the house at once.
It had nothing to do with her improper appearance at a gentleman’s home or the fact that Lord Cartwright was anything but wealthy.
No, Jude wanted to—needed to—depart with all haste because she currently stood in the home she’d almost been caught trespassing in.
That she hadn’t noticed the neighborhood when her carriage had delivered her, spoke to her severely compromised thinking where Cart was concerned.
She wished she had brought Sam with her now.
At least she would have had one person with the common sense to extricate her from this delicate—and dangerous—situation.
“Miss Jude,” Cart called to her from down the hall, the direction of the only locked door she’d encountered during her first trip here—ending in her choice to depart the house with all haste. It was only fitting that it held all his treasures. “I am pleased you could come.”
“My lord,” Jude said in greeting. It was almost as if he were surprised at her appearance. Made odder by the note and directions she’d received with her morning meal, requesting her presence at this exact time and place. “We spoke of your collection. I thank you for the invitation to view it.”
Jude clutched her handbag until Cart stood before her, smiling.
He clearly didn’t notice her fretting, nor had the butler sounded the alarm at her arrival.
Was it possible the little girl who’d discovered her hadn’t shared any further information about Jude’s appearance?
The young woman who Jude now suspected was Cart’s sister.
He had mentioned a sibling; she was sure of it.
“Please, come this way.” Cart turned back the way he’d come and Jude followed slowly behind him. She peered down one hall, expecting the girl to jump out and expose Jude for the thief she was, but the house was eerily quiet. As it had been the night she’d entered through that unlocked window.
“Ah,” she said tentatively. “You have a sister, do you not?”
“I do.” He kept his eyes straight ahead as they walked.
“Mine are always underfoot,” Jude continued. “How do you keep yours from doing the same?”
“She is in the school room at his hour, dedicated to her studies.”
Jude breathed a sigh of relief, quickly continuing to mask her slip. “That is an admirable quality. Learning, especially for women, is very important.”
“My sister is far from being considered a woman,” he snapped, a bit too harshly.
“I did not mean to—“
“No, no,” he mused, glancing at her quickly before focusing once more on their path. “It is not your comment but my sister’s insistence she be treated as an adult.”
“My youngest sister, Payton, is much the same.” Jude’s tension eased as they moved farther into the house, knowing the girl was not lurking around any corner. “I believe you garnered a rather good example of her antics when you visited the other day.”
“That I did.” The room he led her to was the one she’d been unable to gain entrance to, but today, it stood unlocked and open—almost invitingly so.
Lord Cartwright paused outside the room, turning his focus down the hall.
Jude glanced in the direction but saw nothing but a potted plant with a small table nearby.
He allowed Jude to pass, entering the room before him.
He lingered outside the door. A look of perplexity crossed his face before he shook his head and entered the room behind her, leaving the door ajar.
She couldn’t help but suspect that he searched for something but did not find it where it belonged.
“Shall I ring for tea?” He always seemed uncertain with social norms and decorum, though today, he seemed in command of his person—a new confidence taking over. Much like the other occasions they’d discussed topics surrounding antiquities and collecting.
“Yes, thank you,” Jude replied, though she’d come for things that didn’t include food or drink. “Unless you do not find yourself parched, my lord.”
This was the man Jude found she liked most; self-assured and in control, though his timid and uneasy side was just as prevalent. It interested her greatly how quickly Lord Cartwright shifted dispositions.
Her brother—the only man she was routinely near—seemed consistent with his nature.
The room was exactly as Jude had pictured it.
Most collectors were known for their cluttered rooms, teeming with objects, books, and the like, but not Lord Cartwright.
He favored a more thinly furnished and orderly study, free from the chaos Jude had a tendency to favor.
Every item had its place. It suited him well—however, she was unable to reconcile which personality this structured life came from.
Did it fall in line with his obsessive nature of things, or did it show his confidence?
Or possibly, there was an entire third option she’d yet to witness.
Jude took a seat in a tall-backed chair and surveyed the room at greater length when Lord Cartwright hurried around the room, gathering pieces to show her—after all, that’s what she had visited for.
Bordering a large bank of windows, a plush chair sat pushed against the wall with a book lying forgotten on the seat.
She envisioned curling up in the chair with the tome open on her lap, the windows overlooking a back garden or the stables below.
Maybe a fire would be roaring in the hearth with Cart inspecting a new acquisition, or reading a book close by.
It would only be an hour’s time before the butler would summon them for supper and prepare for their evening at the playhouse or maybe a soiree.
They would laugh and exclaim how they’d both been lost in their individual musings.
She blinked several times to banish the image and thoughts from her mind—she barely knew the man sitting opposite her.
Any future she conjured was one based on false impressions and misleading truths.
“Lord Cartwright, may I ask you a question?” Jude needed to remind herself why she was here; specifically, to assess the possibility that Cart would be willing to purchase the vase—or better yet, find a buyer for her.
But that all hinged on his knowledge and if Jude could overlook the trouble Cart would be in if he were found in possession of the stolen artifact.
He looked up from where he’d stooped to grab an obscure-looking pipe. “Certainly. I expected nothing less. We are both cultured minds seeking to expand our horizons.”
Jude averted her stare, finding it hard to look him in the eye, knowing she’d come to deceive him.
Or maybe it was hard to meet his gaze because she hoped he’d see through her ruse and call her on her deceitful plan.
Either way, he was a kind—if not unsuspecting man—who didn’t deserve what she and Sam had planned for him.
But there were things more important than her own integrity—her family and their home. Jude remembered Marce’s empty chest in her office. Candles to keep Craven House lit. Food to keep the hunger away. And a bit of coin for the butcher and baker was welcome, too.
But that would not be possible for much longer if she didn’t sell the vase.
In all likelihood, Lord Cartwright would never know her deception. He would acquire the vase and keep it hidden here in his study—or broker a buyer who would see the item’s worth and keep it secreted away for fear it would be taken and returned to Lord Gunther.
“Jude…errrr. Miss Jude.” Cart returned, sitting in the chair next to her, the pipe in hand. “You had a question for me.”
Jude kept her hesitation at bay long enough to ask her question, made all the worse by the open smile he gave her.
“You say you are not only a collector but also research and locate pieces of worth for others similar to us.” She was unsure if she emphasized us for his benefit or hers—as if she were anything like him.
She did not deserve to be in such a man’s company.
“I have a vase, gifted by a friend from an old estate in Manchester. It was buried in a stable. It is quite old, but not what I tend to gravitate toward.”
His brow rose in interest and Jude knew she’d captured his attention with the mystique around the piece.
“I was wondering if it is something you’d be fascinated with.
” Jude paused, her ability to lie to someone she’d come to respect hampering her.
If Cart weren’t so adept at deciphering between her and her twin, Jude would have agreed to let Sam come in her place.
“I only want it to belong to someone who will appreciate its beauty and rarity.”
“What do you know of it?” Enthralled, Cart scooted forward to the edge of his seat—so far that Jude worried he’d tumble to the floor at her feet. “I admit I am very taken by pieces of obscure history.”