Chapter 14
Jude sat at his desk, the neat columns of numbers blurring together as he stared at them for the third—no, perhaps fourth—time. He scratched a hand over his jaw and forced himself to focus. This was important. This mattered. This was his future.
But it was also painfully dull.
He flicked his gaze towards the long clock in the corner. The pendulum swung with maddening calm, each tick sounding like a deliberate taunt. There was still time before he could retrieve Josephine for their carriage ride through Hyde Park.
He exhaled sharply. Time, it seemed, was intent on tormenting him.
The door opened and his father stepped inside, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Good,” the duke said, clasping his hands behind his back. “I am glad to see you reviewing the accounts.”
Jude raised a brow. “What else would I be doing? Napping under the desk?”
The duke’s mouth tugged upward as he moved to the chair opposite Jude’s desk. “Did you read the soil report for the estate?”
“I did,” Jude replied, dropping the papers he'd been holding. “Utterly captivating. I nearly died from boredom.”
His father chuckled. “It wouldn’t be my first choice of reading material either, but it is important.”
“So I’ve been told repeatedly,” Jude muttered. “I do believe we should invest in new equipment.”
“I agree, as does Mr. Culpepper.”
Jude gave him a look. “If our man of business already agrees, why ask my opinion?”
“Because,” the duke started, “one day this will all be yours. You need to know every inch of the estate.”
“Oh, happy day,” Jude responded dryly.
His father’s smile turned understanding. “I know it seems overwhelming, Jude. But you’ve been preparing for this your entire life.”
Jude leaned back in his chair. “I know I should be grateful—truly, I do—but all I see are meetings. Endless, unrelenting meetings. A future spent drowning in ledgers and obligations.”
“Meetings can be beneficial,” his father countered. “Especially when dealing with the House of Lords.”
He groaned. “Can you live forever?”
“I will try, my dear boy.”
Jude studied him for a moment before saying, “Last night was rather interesting, was it not?”
The duke’s expression sobered. “Yes. It was quite evident you hold affection for Lady Josephine.”
“I do,” Jude admitted. “But that isn’t what I wish to discuss.” He hesitated, then plunged forward. “Do you… hold affection for Lady Redden?”
The transformation was immediate. His father stiffened as though struck. “I thought we resolved this.”
“You were smiling at dinner,” Jude pressed. “Laughing. I haven’t seen you enjoy yourself like that since Mother died.”
His father abruptly rose. “I love your mother—”
“There is no denying that,” Jude cut in. “But… you deserve to be happy.”
“It is none of your concern,” his father snapped, striding towards the door. “I must return to the House of Lords.”
“Father,” Jude called out.
The duke paused, his hand on the door handle.
“Lady Redden seems like a good woman,” Jude said. “Trust your heart.”
His father turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “And what of Lady Josephine? Should you not take your own advice?”
“My heart has nothing to do with this,” Jude said tightly.
“Shouldn’t it?” the duke asked, his voice quiet but pointed.
Jude clenched his jaw. “We are friends,” he said—though saying it tasted bitter.
His father huffed. “What I witnessed last night was hardly friendship. When you can be honest with yourself, we will continue this conversation.”
Before Jude could muster a response, his father swept from the study.
Jude let out a long breath and pressed his fingers to his forehead. Blast it! His father wasn’t wrong. He had kissed Josephine last night. On the cheek—but it had not been the kind of kiss a friend gives.
It had meant something. Too much, perhaps.
The door opened again. Glover entered, bowing slightly. “My lord, a Lord Leroy Tweedale has requested a moment of your time.”
Jude straightened. “Send him in.”
Moments later, Lord Leroy hurried inside, his hat clutched in one hand. He looked uneasy—deeply so.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” he said.
Jude stood and gestured to the chair his father had recently vacated. “Please sit. I admit, I’m curious why you’ve come.”
Lord Leroy sat, shifting nervously. “I wish I came bearing good news, but I fear… I fear for my niece, Josephine.”
Jude’s pulse kicked. He sank back into his seat. “Is something wrong with Josephine?”
“Yes—well—no—but I require your help with a delicate matter.”
“What matter?” Jude asked, his voice steady but tense.
Lord Leroy lowered his voice. “I suspect my nephew is attempting to barter with Josephine’s life.”
Jude’s blood went cold. “Why do you suspect that?”
Leaning closer, Lord Leroy continued, “I believe he gave Mr. Broderick permission to abduct Josephine… to force her into marriage.”
Jude’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have proof that Lord Redden would commit something so vile?”
“That is where it becomes complicated,” Lord Leroy sighed. “I have no proof. Only a gut feeling.”
“That is a bold accusation.”
“I know,” he said earnestly. “But I think you and I have a mutual interest in keeping Josephine safe. Am I wrong?”
“No,” Jude replied without hesitation. “You are not wrong. Have you told Josephine your suspicions?”
“Not yet. But there is more.” He swallowed. “My nephew frequents the gambling hells owned by Mr. Broderick. He is… heavily in debt.”
Jude pressed his lips into a hard line. “That is most concerning.”
“I fear,” Lord Leroy said quietly, “that my nephew offered Josephine to Mr. Broderick as payment. I have seen the way that man looks at her. It goes beyond admiration. It is possessive.”
“We must keep Josephine safe,” Jude asserted.
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Lord Leroy replied gravely. “Which is why…” He hesitated, visibly bracing himself. “Which is why you must marry her.”
Jude blinked. “Pardon?”
Lord Leroy winced as though expecting a blow. “I know it is drastic. But it is the only way to guarantee her safety. She would have the protection of your name, and Mr. Broderick wouldn’t dare approach her if she were your countess.”
The room suddenly felt too small, too still.
Jude rose abruptly and walked to the window, staring out at the gray London sky. “I care for Josephine,” he said slowly, “but marriage?”
Behind him, Lord Leroy stood as well. “From what I have gathered, Josephine holds you in high esteem. It might take some convincing on your part, but I do think the two of you could be genuinely happy.”
Jude turned sharply. “Your niece has told me she will marry for nothing less than love.”
Lord Leroy’s expression tightened. “She may not have the luxury of such conditions. I believe Mr. Broderick will not stop until he has her. And my nephew… my nephew may already have promised her to him.”
Jude’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “I would never allow that.”
“I know,” Lord Leroy responded. “Which is why I beg you to at least consider my suggestion. She needs protection. And she trusts you.”
The words struck him harder than he expected.
Consider it.
Marry Josephine to save her.
Lord Leroy inclined his head. “Think on what I’ve said. But I do believe it would be best to act sooner rather than later.”
Jude inhaled deeply. “I will speak with Josephine during our carriage ride.”
Relief washed over the man’s features. “Thank you, my lord.”
When Lord Leroy departed, closing the door firmly behind him, the study felt too quiet—too heavy.
Jude sank into his chair.
A marriage of convenience. A pledge of duty.
Wasn’t this exactly what he had sworn never to do again? Exactly the trap he’d nearly fallen into with Lady Gwendolyn—an arrangement built on expectation rather than truth?
But Josephine was nothing like Gwendolyn.
Josephine had looked at him—with his worn coat and muddy boots—and seen a man, not a title. She had offered him kindness without knowing who he was. She had trusted him, confided in him, smiled at him—even when she believed him to be nothing more than a gamekeeper.
Her goodness was not an act.
And the protectiveness that surged through him when she was near… that had never felt like duty. It felt like instinct. Like something older, deeper.
But marriage?
Could he ask her to enter a union built on danger and necessity? Could he bind her to him when she deserved a love match?
The long clock chimed, pulling him from the mire of his thoughts.
It was time to collect Josephine.
Jude rose and strode towards the entry hall.
Glover stepped forward with efficient precision. “Your hat and gloves, my lord.”
Jude accepted them, tugging the gloves into place as he stepped out into the crisp air and into the barouche.
He barely felt the motion of the wheels beneath him. His mind was full of Josephine—her smile, her warmth, her bravery… and the danger surrounding her.
The carriage jerked to a halt outside her townhouse. Before the footman could lower the step, Jude was already descending.
He mounted the steps two at a time and lifted the brass knocker.
The door opened moments later.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” the butler said, bowing as he stepped aside.
Jude entered the entry hall and saw Lord Redden emerging from a side corridor, his smile broad and entirely too cheerful.
“Pendryn!” Redden exclaimed. “How pleased I am to see you.”
Redden’s cheerfulness grated on Jude’s nerves. This man—this reckless, selfish man—might have bartered Josephine’s safety for his own debts.
Jude forced his expression into civility. “Redden,” he replied with a measured nod.
Redden approached him and said, “I do hope you enjoy your carriage ride with my sister.”
“That is indeed my intention.”
Something flickered in Redden’s eyes. Annoyance? Calculation? Jude saw it before the man plastered on another smile.
And Jude made himself a silent promise. If Redden had indeed conspired with Broderick, then nothing—nothing—would stop Jude from shielding Josephine.
Even if it meant marriage.