Chapter 2 #3
“No buts, Josephine.” He cut her off, his voice firm but kind. “I said I’d help you get word to your family, and I will.”
Her gaze flickered with gratitude—and something else. “If you do, I’ll see that you’re well rewarded.”
He frowned. “I don’t need your money.”
“But surely money would ease your situation here,” she pressed, gesturing faintly around the cottage.
Jude let out a low chuckle and spread his arms wide. “I’ve everything I need and then some.”
She smiled faintly, that quiet sincerity in her eyes again. “You are a good man, Jude.”
The words hit harder than he expected. He winced inwardly. A good man. If she only knew. If she knew he wasn’t a humble gamekeeper but an earl, hiding from expectations he could no longer stomach, would she look at him differently? Try to trap him, as others had before her?
The thought made him take a half-step back, folding his arms defensively. Women of her class were not to be trusted. They lied with poise and flattered with precision. He’d seen it too many times.
Feeling the need to regain some distance, he asked sharply, “But not good enough to know the truth about you?”
Her lips parted in surprise. “It’s for the best.”
“For whom?” he demanded.
Josephine wrapped her arms around herself as though warding off a chill or perhaps his scrutiny. “For everyone,” she whispered.
“You can trust me.”
“Trust you? I hardly know you.” Then after a long pause, she added, “I suppose you deserve the truth. I owe you that much.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “I was at a ball last night. I stepped out onto the veranda for a bit of air. Mr. Broderick joined me.”
Jude stiffened. He had heard her utter that name before. “And?”
Her eyes lifted to his, filled with both fear and defiance. “He pressed a pistol to my side and forced me through the gardens and into his coach. It was waiting at the edge of the property. He meant to take me to Gretna Green.”
Jude’s hand tightened into a fist at his side. “The devil he did.”
“The coach was traveling far too fast,” she went on, her voice trembling only slightly. “It began to tilt when we rounded a corner. I—” She swallowed, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “I threw myself out. I had to. A moment later, it overturned.”
“You’re lucky to be alive.”
“I am,” she agreed. “The driver and footman weren’t as fortunate. I never found Mr. Broderick’s body… so I ran. Into the woods. I didn’t stop until I came across your stable.”
Her voice faltered then, and she sank back into the nearest chair. “I didn’t mean to bring you any trouble. I’d only planned to rest a moment before continuing on my way.”
Jude looked at her for a long moment, feeling something twist deep in his chest. She’d endured all that, alone and terrified, yet still spoke with grace and gratitude.
Trouble or not, she wasn’t leaving—not while the storm raged and certainly not while a man like Broderick might still be out there.
Not if he could help it.
Jude dragged a chair across the wooden floor, the legs scraping softly against the worn planks. He positioned it beside her and sat down. “I will keep you safe,” he said. “At least until you are back with your family.”
“You don’t know Mr. Broderick,” she responded. “You don’t know what he is capable of. He is a vile man who refuses to take no for an answer.”
The way she said it—quiet but firm—sent a wave of anger rolling through Jude. He’d met men like that before, men who believed power gave them rights over others. “You’re safe now,” he said, though even as he spoke, he hated how hollow it sounded.
Her lips quivered. “Perhaps,” she murmured, “but for how long?” Tears pooled in her eyes, catching the flicker of the fire. “If anyone saw me leaving with Mr. Broderick, I am ruined.”
Jude’s stomach twisted. “Don’t think on that now,” he said. “Focus on what you can change. The first thing we do is get you home to your family.”
Her gaze dropped to her lap. “They will be so disappointed in me.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “I should have known better. I should have—”
“Should have what?” Jude interrupted. “Foreseen that a man would betray his own honor?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You cannot blame yourself for another man’s wickedness.”
She gave a small, humorless laugh, wiping at her eyes. “That is kind of you to say, but Society does not see it that way. To them, the mere appearance of impropriety is enough to condemn a woman.”
“Then Society is full of fools,” Jude said, his voice much harsher than he had intended. “Forgive me. I just… I cannot stand the idea of you believing this is your fault.”
Her tears slowed, her breathing steadied, though her eyes still shone with worry. “You are unlike anyone I have met before, Jude.”
“I hope that is a good thing.”
“It is,” she rushed out.
For a moment, neither spoke, both retreating into their own thoughts. The storm still raged outside, but within the tiny cottage, something fragile and unspoken began to take root—a trust he hadn’t expected to feel, and one he feared might cost him dearly if he let it grow.