Chapter 13
Jude sat, a book open in her lap, waiting for her sisters to take their leave.
Payton’s tutor would arrive shortly, and Samantha was departing for the Haversham townhouse for tea with Lady Haversham and Mrs. Jakeston.
It was the perfect opportunity for Jude to grab the vase and slip from Craven House without her elder brother noticing.
He’d been told she would be visiting Lady Haversham with Sam.
It would allow Jude several hours of time for her and Lord Cartwright to research the vase—which Jude didn’t need.
She knew all there was to know about the item, especially that she couldn’t risk being seen with it in such a public venue.
But she’d had little choice but to suggest the library for their meeting—it was either that or risk being recognized at Lord Cartwright’s townhouse. Her luck of going unnoticed could not last long—and the child could not be kept in her schoolroom indefinitely.
It had been agreed upon that Jude would gain whatever coin Cart was willing to spare for the piece and that they’d wipe their hands of it—allow him to suffer the punishment for being in possession of the stolen artifact.
Sam had no regrets about their plan, concocted before they’d found a suitable collector to purchases the piece and certainly long before she’d met Cart.
Jude had nothing but regrets at the moment.
It hurt most to realize her largest pang of guilt was meeting Lord Cartwright, stumbling upon him at Lady Haversham’s garden party—and then fooling him into befriending her.
And her greatest remorse?
Allowing him to kiss her.
A lie she’d been telling herself for the past few days since their walk in Hyde Park.
She hadn’t allowed him to kiss her—she’d initiated the kiss. She’d taken advantage of him by stepping close in that wooded area and pressing her lips to his.
Jude’s first kiss.
And it had been a sham. It was a kiss given under false pretenses.
But she knew time was running out for Craven House, if the notices were to be believed.
Marce owed someone money—and selling the vase was the only way Jude could help with the situation.
Her eldest sister wouldn’t speak of the dangers awaiting them if the note was not satisfied, but it did not take much for Jude and Sam to piece together the consequences.
They’d be thrown from their home and would have no place to go.
That left her a mere few days to get rid of the vase and collect the coin—which made Cart her only opinion.
More shameful was that she hoped their lips met again—as soon as possible.
And that had nothing to do with the vase or rescuing their home.
She felt her cheeks heat at her indecent thoughts.
Glancing around the room, she confirmed that neither of her sisters paid her any mind.
Sam flipped through the gossip rags as she did each week and Payton sat idle, staring out the window at nothing more than the shrubs lining the drive.
Her youngest sibling—and her affinity to retreat into her own thoughts—worried Jude, but lately, she hadn’t the time to explore her sister’s melancholy ways.
Marce and Sam were happy she’d dispelled her youthful, petty whining.
Jude was not convinced a withdrawn Payton was favorable over a whimpering, selfish miss.
Maybe it would take a special someone to pull her from her musings—and introduce her to…
Jude stopped herself, pushing the thought from her mind. However, it struggled its way back in. There was nothing left to do but close her eyes and allow her mind to wander—it did not hurt anyone if her thoughts explored the longings newly aroused in her.
First, she remembered the feel of his lips—so unlike she’d imagined.
They were possessive in the most inspiring sort of way, firm and commanding.
And at complete odds with the man who possessed them.
Cart had taken an imposing role during their embrace, yet he’d been unsure of his actions and retreated when her tongue grazed his lip.
It was with wise thinking that he’d wrapped his arms around her or Jude would have likely collapsed when her legs turned to mush, betraying her.
Would he be so daring at Sir Edwin’s Circulating Library?
She imagined a tryst hidden within the many narrow shelves of books or a stolen kiss in an alcove bordering the main reading room. Her chest tightened and her breathing increased, thinking about the possible opportunities to be in his arms.
No one would know her there—she’d lied when she’d claimed the library was like a second home to her.
Jude had visited the archive only twice, and both times were in the early morning hours before most of her household had departed their chambers.
Yes, she’d explored the many sections—science, history, newspapers—but she’d hesitated being seen in the place for fear if items began to disappear around London, someone would remember her scouring the ancient volumes on similar matters.
Her interest in history and artifacts should not be compromised by her decision to steal the vase.
Their illicit activities had to end, before it was too late and her family was connected to any wrongdoing.
And so, Jude had kept away from a place she knew she’d love if given greater opportunity to explore its treasures.
Exploring treasures—oh, how she’d take great pleasure in exploring a certain man who was soon to be arriving at the library.
“Miss Samantha, Miss Judith,” Darla, their housekeeper, called. Jude opened her eyes to see Darla in the open doorway. “Your carriage is waiting in the drive.”
Jude acted disinterested as Sam stood, her fashion plates forgotten at the prospect of visiting Lady Haversham’s home during prime calling hours.
“I am not feeling quite the thing,” Jude exclaimed. “I think I will remain home, but do give my sincere apologies to Lady Haversham and Mrs. Jakeston.”
“You cannot desert me,” Sam said halfheartedly. There was nothing more her sister enjoyed than being the only twin.
“I am certain you will manage without me this once.” Jude had found herself exhausted from Sam’s incessant wonderings over the vase—when it would be gone, when they’d have the money for it, and why Jude hadn’t pushed her acquaintance with Lord Cartwright.
What her sister was unaware of was that her acquaintance with Cart had surpassed what was proper and if Jude had anything to say about it, would venture into scandalous territory.
It was for many reasons that Jude wasn’t telling Sam her plans for the day.
“I will await you here so you can regale me with news of how your afternoon went.”
Jude was hedging her bets on Sam’s need to feel important and it worked.
“Very well.” Sam smiled, her light green dress complementing her hair coiled tightly at her crown.
“I can accompany you,” Payton called from her place at the window. “I am in my last year of studies anyways. One missed lesson will hurt me naught.”
“That is not necessary.” Of course, Sam did not wish her sister to tag along, usurping the lavish attention heaped on a newly introduced debutante. “You are far too young—and inexperienced—for Lady Haversham’s salon. Imagine if you embarrassed Marce. She would be very upset.”
“Good afternoon, dear sisters. Who are you three upsetting now?” Garrett strode into the room, bending slightly to place a quick kiss on the housekeeper’s cheek.
Highly inappropriate, though it was Garrett’s inclination to push boundaries and shock people whenever possible.
“Must I lock you all away until Marce returns? That would mean more work for me—and you know I abhor labor of any sort.”
Sam crossed her arms, turning a scathing look on him.
Payton laughed, an unrestrained sound of merriment—a rare occurrence.
“Why you always think we are up to no good, I will never know,” Sam exclaimed, affronted, before pushing past him to follow Darla from the room.
“She does always know how to make a dramatic exit.” Garrett moved into the room and slung himself on the lounge, much the same as he’d done the day Marce had departed for her trip.
“For a previous bordello, this house is certainly the most boring and tedious residence in all of England. Is this all you ladies do all day?”
“Brother, you brought the dreary shadow of boredom with you,” Jude teased. “Alas, it will not be by our hand that you see any type of excitement while Marce is away. We are taking her warning to heart and keeping ourselves out of trouble.”
“And what will occupy your day, my dear, favorite sister?”
His words rankled Payton, as he’d intended.
There was nothing that annoyed their youngest sibling more than feeling the odd one out.
Marce and Garrett were linked by the many years they’d spent together before their father passed away and their mother moved on to have other children.
Sam and she were close, for obvious reasons, but with Marce and Sam gone, Payton desperately longed to be the favored sibling to their only brother.
True to form, Payton stood with a loud huff and followed Sam from the room.
“You certainly know how to clear a room of females,” Jude said with a chuckle. “How do you expect to gain the notice of a proper lady and con her into wedding a rakehell?”
“I am not lacking in female companionship, never you fear.”
“I said proper female.”
“Proper women of the ton are lying in wait at every corner,”—he sighed throwing his arm across his face—“and those types of women will never be conned, as you put it, by a mere younger son with no title or money. Besides, if you and Sam are any indication of what constitutes acceptable behavior for young debutantes, then I am ecstatic to stay far from your drab kind.”
“My drab kind?” Jude laughed.
“You heard me correctly.” He moved to sit, tossing a golden pillow her way. “You were much more entertaining before you set your sights on being accepted by society—even Payton could be counted on for a laugh every once in a while, but now…”
Jude longed to share with her brother exactly how unladylike and nonconformist she and Sam had been of late. Part of her knew he’d find a way out for them—fix everything before it went awry—and keep Lord Cartwright from learning that she was a complete fraud.
Alas, she’d sworn to her twin to keep everything between them, never to tell any of their siblings the lengths they’d gone to help Marce—and keep their home.
“I am sorry you find your family so entirely unappealing, dear brother.” Jude stood, eyeing the vase nestled unwittingly on the table behind the lounge Garrett occupied. “What are your plans for today?”
“I thought I might visit my fencing club.” He closed his eyes and pushed out an exaggerated breath. “Or maybe attend Tattersall’s. I am unsure, but I must return to prepare and organize for this evening.”
Jude needed to retrieve the vase and leave immediately if she wanted to be on time to meet Cart. It would be disastrous if he thought she’d called off on their plans.
“I think I will retire to my chambers.” Jude stood, navigating her way toward the table.
Garrett’s position made it impossible for him to keep his watch on her.
She gathered Sam’s fashion plates for guise and grasped the vase before turning toward the door.
“Please send for me if you need assistance with anything.”
“Certainly,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. “Enjoy your afternoon.”
“I intend to.” Jude knew her mistake the second the words left her mouth—it wasn’t the words but the way she’d said them.
Garrett lifted his head from the chaise and followed her progression toward the door. “What have you there?”
Jude raised her hand that held the plates. “Sam forgot her things. I will return them to our bedchamber.” Slyly, she tucked the vase to her side, praying her skirt hid it from his view.
She slipped from the room and took the stairs quickly to their bedchambers.
Once safely inside, she pulled a satchel from under her bed and sat it on her dressing table, propped open.
It would be necessary to wrap the delicate antiquity in something soft and nonabrasive for her walk to the circulating library.
She grabbed Sam’s forgotten wrap that hung limply from the foot of her bed.
It would offer enough padding and protection for her short trip—and with any luck, Jude would not return with the piece—but a tote full of banknotes.
A tendril of regret burrowed deep, taking hold as she placed the vase in the satchel.
But Jude couldn’t allow herself to feel guilty over using Cart. Her family needed the money and he would be overjoyed to possess the vase.
She must think of it as a fair trade, anything to relieve the immense regret that plagued her as she hurried from Craven House.
It would not be wise to explore the reasoning behind her guilt over duping Lord Cartwright.
One thing was for certain, it was not because she longed to kiss him again.
Her chances of fulfilling that wish if he ever found out her duplicity would be nil.