Chapter 7
Josephine sat primly upon the settee in the drawing room, her hands folded neatly around a porcelain teacup. The tea inside had long since cooled, but she sipped it anyway, more from habit than desire. Across from her, Charlotte was describing in great detail her wedding tour.
Josephine smiled and nodded in the right places, murmuring polite encouragements, though her heart was not in the conversation. Her mind was elsewhere—on a certain gamekeeper with warm brown eyes and a steady, maddeningly gentle voice.
If they hadn’t been interrupted on the lawn… would he have kissed her?
The very thought made her pulse quicken. And worse—she wouldn’t have objected.
Good heavens. What was wrong with her? She was the daughter of a marquess, not some love-crazed debutante. She couldn’t allow herself to feel anything for a lowly gamekeeper. And yet, he had saved her life. Perhaps that was all it was. Gratitude tangled with confusion. Nothing more.
“Josephine, are you listening?”
Charlotte’s voice cut through her musings. Josephine blinked rapidly and set her cup down before she spilled it. “Yes, of course,” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “Forgive me, I was… woolgathering.”
Charlotte’s lips curved knowingly. “About a particular gamekeeper, no doubt.”
Heat flamed in Josephine’s cheeks. “No! I was merely thinking about the weather.”
“Ah, yes. The weather.” Charlotte’s tone was teasing. “A perfectly safe topic for daydreams—though rather dull, don’t you think?”
Josephine looked down. “It is dull,” she admitted. “And I would much rather hear more about your travels.”
Charlotte’s tone softened. “I’ve talked of nothing else for some time now. You must be positively weary of hearing me prattle on,” she said. “What would you like to speak of?”
“I…” Josephine began, but before she could gather her thoughts, the door opened and Lord Luca entered, his presence commanding the room at once.
He inclined his head politely towards her. “I came to inform you that Jude has retired to his cottage,” he said. “We felt it best he return to his duties as gamekeeper.”
The words struck her like a physical blow. “Oh,” she breathed, the single syllable escaping before she could contain it. He had left? Without even saying goodbye? After everything?
Had she meant so little to him?
Lord Luca crossed to the opposite settee and took a seat, his gaze steady but not unkind. “It is for the best,” he said.
“Yes,” she murmured, forcing the word past the lump in her throat. “It is.” Perhaps if she said it often enough, she might believe it.
“I know you and Jude have grown… acquainted,” Lord Luca continued delicately. “But you must understand that such familiarity is most improper. Now that Jude has gone—”
“There you are!”
Josephine’s heart leapt. She turned towards the doorway—and there he was. Jude. He filled the space effortlessly, tall and confident, his dark hair slightly disheveled.
Lord Luca rose sharply. “What in the blazes are you doing here, Jude? I thought we agreed you would return to the cottage at once.”
Jude’s expression was grave. “We did, but something has come up.”
“Of course it did,” Lord Luca muttered under his breath, folding his arms.
Jude’s gaze found Josephine’s, steady and sure. “Someone approached me,” he said, “and asked if you were staying here at Ashmoore Hall.”
Josephine’s pulse faltered. “Who?”
“I don’t know his name. He wouldn’t give it,” Jude replied. “But he was tall, with a long face, a straight nose, and an arrogance that could sour milk.”
Josephine’s hand flew to her mouth. “That sounds like Mr. Broderick. How did he find me?”
Lord Luca answered grimly. “We sent word to the constable that you were in residence here. If Mr. Broderick heard it from him—or one of his men—it would explain how he knew.”
Josephine shot to her feet, panic rising in her chest. “Then I must leave. I cannot stay here.”
“No,” Jude said firmly, stepping closer. “You are safe here, Josephine. No one—not even Mr. Broderick—will reach you.”
Lord Luca nodded, though his frown deepened. “Jude is right. My staff is loyal and the grounds are well-guarded. You will remain safe until your family arrives.”
Her voice trembled. “And then? What happens when he finds me again? He will not stop.”
“I will see that guards accompany you to London,” Jude said immediately.
Lord Luca’s tone sharpened. “You overstep, Jude.” Then grudgingly, he added, “But he isn’t wrong. I will make the arrangements.”
Tears stung Josephine’s eyes. “I never gave Mr. Broderick reason to pursue me so relentlessly,” she said. “Why will he not leave me alone?”
“I don’t know,” Jude replied. “But I promise that we will keep you safe.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
Before another word could be spoken, a commotion erupted in the entry hall—a woman’s voice, shrill with emotion.
“Josephine!”
Her breath caught. That voice—
“Mother!”
Josephine rushed into the hall, her skirts tangling around her legs as she ran. There, standing in the doorway, was her mother—small, thin, with brown hair streaked liberally with white.
“Mother,” Josephine cried again, flinging herself into her mother’s arms. The familiar scent of lavender enveloped her, and for the first time in days, she allowed herself to truly exhale.
“My darling girl,” her mother murmured, holding her tight. “You are safe. Thank heaven.”
A deeper voice intruded upon the reunion. “Please, do show some decorum,” her brother, Alexander, muttered.
Their mother pulled back, still holding Josephine by the shoulders. “Hush, Alexander. I will embrace my daughter as I please.” Her sharp eyes swept Josephine’s face, then widened. “Good gracious, your forehead—did a doctor stitch that wound?”
Josephine hesitated. “No, a friend did.”
Alexander gave a derisive sniff. “Poorly, by the look of it. It will scar.”
“A scar is the least of her worries,” her mother said briskly. “Now, greet your sister properly.”
With a rigid hand, Alexander patted her sleeve. “I am relieved you are not dead.”
Her mother sighed. “Perhaps I should handle the conversation from now on.” She turned back to Josephine. “How did you end up here, Child?”
“That is… a long story,” Josephine said.
“Well, you may tell it on the journey home. We depart at once.”
“Now?” Josephine’s voice came out faint.
“Is there a reason you would prefer to remain here?” her mother asked, one brow arching.
“No, of course not, I simply…” Her words trailed off. How could she explain the ache in her chest at the thought of leaving Jude behind?
Her mother tilted her head. “Simply what, dearest?”
Josephine drew herself up, her composure returning by sheer will. “I merely did not wish to be rude to Lord Luca and Lady Luca. They have been exceedingly kind to me.”
Lord Luca, who had followed them into the hall, inclined his head. “You are always welcome here, Lady Josephine, but your mother is right. The weather is fine, and it would be prudent to travel while daylight remains.”
Her mother smiled gratefully. “Thank you, my lord. You have my deepest thanks for caring for my daughter.”
He gestured towards Charlotte, who had joined him. “I daresay that my wife deserves much of the credit.”
“Then I thank you, too, my lady,” her mother said warmly. “When we learned Josephine had been in a carriage accident and was missing, we feared the worst. We were traveling here when one of your riders found us.”
“She should not have run off with Mr. Broderick in the first place,” Alexander muttered.
Josephine turned on him. “I did not run off with Mr. Broderick. He abducted me.”
Alexander’s expression remained skeptical. “We can discuss it later.”
Her temper rose. “Is that what you truly believe? That I willingly left a ball to elope with that man?”
“What else were we to think?” Alexander demanded. “One moment you were there, the next you were gone. You did not even have the courtesy to leave a note.”
Josephine’s mouth fell open, indignation stealing her breath. “Because I was abducted, Alexander!”
“Yes, well, that is a likely story if you ask me,” Alexander said, his arms crossed and his expression unmoved. “Say your goodbyes, and we can discuss this further in the carriage. There’s no need for Lord Luca and his wife to witness a family squabble.”
Josephine clenched her hands together, her nails biting into her gloves. She wanted to defend herself—to shout that she had been abducted, not complicit, but she knew there was little point. Her brother’s mind was made up, and any further argument would only make her look foolish.
Still, there was something she needed to do before she left. Something she could not leave undone.
“Before we go,” she said, turning to her mother, “there is someone I wish for you to meet.”
Her mother, who had been fussing with her cloak, looked up in mild surprise. “Someone?”
“The man who saved me,” Josephine explained. “He found me wandering in the woods after the carriage overturned. He brought me here and ensured my safety.”
Her mother’s expression gentled. “Then I would very much like to meet this man and thank him properly.”
Josephine’s heart gave a hopeful flutter. She turned and made her way back towards the drawing room. The moment she stepped through the threshold, she froze.
The room was empty. The curtains fluttered faintly with the breeze from an open window. But Jude was gone.
Her mother’s voice floated from behind her. “Well? Where is this man of yours?”
Josephine swallowed, her throat tightening painfully. He’s left me again.
Forcing her features into polite composure, she turned and said evenly, “I was mistaken. It seems he has already returned to his duties.”
Alexander’s dry tone carried little sympathy. “You wanted us to meet a servant?” He shook his head, exhaling impatiently. “What a waste of time. Come along, Josephine. It’s time we departed.”
His words stung, more than she cared to admit. She looked once more towards the open window, half-hoping Jude might reappear. But there was only silence.
Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest.