Chapter 25 #2
“All this time, on no occasion, did I think about how this would affect anyone else—except my own family,” she continued, unable to stop even if Cart no longer listened.
“I am a selfish person, Cart, but I want to change. I need to change, even if that means revealing my secret to the magistrate and my family. My intent was never to hurt anyone and my punishment will be losing the love and loyalty of so many people. You included.”
“Maybe your penance can be served without losing anything.”
She was relieved to hear him finally speak. “It was you who told me that intent does not dictate consequences.”
“Sometimes I am not a smart man,” he confided with a small, weak laugh. “Sometimes, more times than I will admit, I have little notion of what I speak, especially with social interactions and, worst of all, emotions. Neither is concrete and definitive—but ever-changing and growing.”
“You think the magnitude of my actions does not justify severe consequences?” she asked. “I hurt you and that should receive the stiffest punishment imaginable.”
“I am only a person, Jude.” She heard him move, his booted feet hitting the ground as he stood. “Why would hurting me—out of everyone—be the most important and dire to you?”
She knew the words were going to pass her lips and Jude didn’t even attempt to hush them. “Because I love you.”
“Open the door, Jude.”
She couldn’t face him, not now, not after her confession.
She could not take it if he said he didn’t feel the same.
She couldn’t take it if he said that he couldn’t look past the hurt she’d caused and her deception.
Cart should hold his family and their well-being before anyone and she’d tarnished them before society.
His sister deserved better than to have people talking behind her back about Cart’s past.
“Please,” he begged.
But it would make everything easier to accept if she faced him now and heard directly from his mouth that he did not feel the same for her.
It would make the lonely hours to come more bearable, to know that her feelings were not reciprocated and that Cart had spoken his piece and moved on from her.
Her future was unsure, but she would not take him down with her. He deserved years of happiness—a family, friends, and acceptance—she could not give him any of that, not where she was going.
A clean break—with no ties or obligations to one another.
Surely, Cart sought the same thing.
Closure. With no secrets or regrets left unsaid.
Beyond this moment, she and Cart were guaranteed nothing.
With trembling hands, Jude moved and turned the key in the lock.
Cart pushed the door wide as she stepped back, dressed as gentlemanly as ever with his fine linen shirt, crisp cravat, and gleaming Hessians. His hair was the only thing out of place, as if he’d run his hands through it many times while he begged her to open the door.
His face was a mask of confusion and pain.
The exact emotions that coursed through Jude.
“You have been crying.” His fingers brushed her cheek, taking with the swipe her tears. If only it were so simple to wipe away all the bad things between them. “Come now,” he said, taking her hand. Their palms met and their fingers intertwined, fitting perfectly. “No tears.”
“I don’t think I am capable of stopping them.
” They stood facing one another, less than a foot separating them, their hands still clasped.
“Saying goodbye is so much harder than I ever dreamt it would be.” Which was the exact reason she’d planned to never have this moment with him.
Once the magistrate took her away, she’d made up her mind to deny him a chance to visit her, not that she’d held much hope that he would ever come for her.
Saying goodbye was admitting things were over and done with—all that she’d experienced in their short time together would be gone and all she’d be left with would be memories.
Wonderful memories. She would hold them tightly, relive them often, and never allow them to fade.
All at the same time, Cart would go on. Certainly, he would remember the woman who’d betrayed him with her lies.
The woman who’d drawn him in with a passionate kiss, the woman who’d stayed by his side after he fell into a pond before hordes of people—and the woman he could never trust. Because of Jude, he would remain guarded with every new person he met; assessing their motivations and trying to decipher if their intentions were pure.
She had done this to him—and she could never forgive herself.
She stared into his brown eyes, noticing his confusion had faded and the tight line of his mouth had relaxed.
“Miss Judith Pengarden,” he said, an unasked question in his tone.
“Yes, Lord Cartwright.” She despised the use of formal names between the pair of them, but she desperately wanted him to stay, to keep talking…but most of all, to never let her go.
“I am going to kiss you now.” His hand squeezed hers, pulling her the short distance to him. His other arm wrapped about her waist, dragging her even closer as his lips captured hers.
Jude hadn’t time to say anything or utter a protest, though that was the furthest thing from her mind.
At the moment, she simply concentrated on keeping pace with him—his kiss was far more demanding this time.
There was nothing tentative or hesitant in the way his mouth pressed solidly against hers, coaxing her lips to part as his tongue brushed lightly along her bottom lip.
She could feel his hand massaging her lower back.
Finally, his lips left hers and she sucked in a deep breath as he placed small kisses along her jaw, collecting any stray tears that may have hung on. He released her hand and brought his to her cheek, his fingers stroking the opposite side he’d kissed, then gently caressing down her neck.
A moan escaped Jude as she tried to keep control of her senses.
His lips reached her ear and he nibbled at her lobe before tracing a path back to her parted lips. Their mouths met again as if they were used to one another and fit together as perfectly as their hands had. Their tongues danced as their lips found a rhythm all their own.
Jude wanted this to last forever.
“I did not mean for any of this to happen, but I am so grateful for all that transpired—leading to you.” Jude laid her entire self before him, no longer willing to hide anything. She would not hide who she was or what she wanted. And she’d never wanted anything more than the man before her.
“I have been misled, deceived, and hurt in my past,” he breathed, his lips still so close to hers.
Jude couldn’t move, was afraid she’d stop his words from coming, but she needed, desperately, to hear them—just as he needed to hear hers.
“I feared you had done the same—used me to gain only what you sought.”
“Never.”
“I have come to live my life based on facts, numbers, proven theories, and known conclusions—but you are none of those things. I cannot house you in a small box nor do I have explanations for the immense responsibility and adoration I feel for you, despite all you have done. I cannot reconcile any of it, not to my own satisfaction or yours. I should walk away. I should put you from my life and my mind—yet, each time I try, I find I cannot. Every thought I have revolves around you. Your presence banishes the mere thought of rational thinking from my mind. You are a temptress, and I find myself powerless to resist.”
“I did not know anything of you or your family’s past when we met,” she confided. “You must believe me.”
“Never did I believe you were the callous woman your actions pointed to.”
She cringed at the term callous, as she’d never meant to harm him in anyway. “I’d only sought to help my family…and yes, I fully regret the way I went about it and the injury I caused you, especially.”
In Cart’s arms—there was no other place she could be happy and content. His embrace was strong and commanding. But Jude sensed he would never restrict her or try to tame her in any way.
Too soon, he pulled back. Jude felt the giant void between them return, even though his arms still held her.
“You would turn yourself over to the magistrate just to show me you love me?” His question was asked in a tone of complete bewilderment, his eyes searching hers for the truth of the matter. “You would give up your family, your freedom, and your future to prove to me how repentant you are?”
“No,” Jude shook her head vehemently. She wanted no other misunderstandings between them. Not ever again. “I would give that all up for you…only you. Not to prove any point or show my remorse, but to see you look at me like you are right now.”
His face clouded with confusion once more and he pulled slightly away from her. “How is that?”
“Like I am the only thing in the room you notice, even with a treasured vase close at hand or a scepter forged of the strongest steel.” Jude paused, remembering each moment she’d noticed the stare.
“As if you are sopping wet and covered in pond muck to your knees, but still can barely take your gaze from me to notice the crowd of onlookers.”
“I was mortified in that moment,” he confessed, a blush traveling up from his shirt collar. “My saving grace, if I remember correctly, was a pair of moss-green doe eyes that kept locked with mine, at least until I was able to crawl from the water. Were there so many people staring?”
Jude laughed at his wide-eyed expression, horror written all over his face. “No, certainly not that many. Only a hundred or so of London’s upper crust.”
They’d so easily reverted to their light, teasing companionship.
Something Jude cherished more than anything.
It gave her hope. Not that he’d forgiven her, but that maybe he one day would.
and they could establish some sort of friendship beyond the forgiveness a kiss promised.
Longing for anything more was destined to crush her.
“What in the devil is he doing back here again?” Garrett’s deep voice thundered from behind Cart. “And why are his hands touching your backside?”
Cart tensed at the gruff words.
“Oh, Garrett,” a familiar and comforting voice scolded. “Do stop your peacocking and strutting. I am certain our Samantha can explain everything if you’ll only calm yourself.”
“That is not Samantha!” Garrett flung his hands wildly as if wondering why he was the only person in the room reacting to the scene before him.
Jude stared as Marce’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Judith Pengarden—you will explain posthaste, but first, Garrett, close that door before all of London witnesses the embrace in our foyer.”