Chapter 21 #2
For a heartbeat, everything inside her stilled.
If her boldness surprised him, he gave no indication. Instead, he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He kissed her back with a fervor that stole her breath, deepening the embrace, showing her—proving to her—with every gentle stroke of his lips how deeply, fiercely, he loved her.
Her fingers curled in the fabric of his coat, anchoring herself to him, silently telling him she didn’t want this moment to ever end.
At last, after a long, wonderful, dizzying moment, Jude reluctantly drew back, though only just. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath unsteady, mingling with her own.
“That was… perfect.”
A soft smile tugged at her lips. “It was,” she whispered. It felt like everything she had ever wanted condensed into a single moment.
He swallowed. “I should go.”
“Yes,” she agreed, though her voice lacked conviction. “You should.”
But neither of them moved.
His hands remained lightly on her waist, as though he didn’t trust himself to let go. And she… she was certain her feet were rooted to the ground. The idea of him stepping away—even a pace—felt unthinkably empty.
He huffed a quiet, amused breath. “Josie… if you keep looking at me like that, I will never leave the gardens.”
Her lips curved. “Then perhaps I shall continue looking at you exactly like that.”
He groaned softly, a sound that sent a delightful shiver down her spine. “You are going to be the ruin of me.”
“Funny,” she whispered, “I was thinking the same of you.”
Still, they stood there—foreheads touching, breaths mingling, hearts pounding—neither quite willing to let the moment go.
And Josephine knew, with utter certainty, that she never wanted to spend another moment of her life without him.
With the special license tucked safely into the inner pocket of his jacket, Jude crossed the threshold of his townhouse with a smile tugging at his lips. The fact that he had secured it—that he would soon be Josephine’s husband—sent a thrill through him so fierce he nearly laughed aloud.
But first, there was something he needed to do.
He strode down the corridor towards the study, his boots whispering across the polished floorboards. Through the half-open door, he spotted his father sitting in his favorite armchair, spectacles perched low on his nose, a worn book resting open before him.
“Father,” Jude said as he stepped inside.
The duke looked up immediately, his brows lifting. “Jude. You have returned.”
“I have.” He patted his jacket pocket. “I was able to secure the special license.”
“That is wonderful news,” his father replied, setting the book aside with careful deliberation. “And when shall you marry?”
“Soon,” Jude said, unable to hide the excitement roughening his voice. “But… Josie had one condition.”
His father regarded him with a wary expression. “Which is?”
“That you and Lady Redden marry directly after we do,” Jude replied. “Which is why I procured you a special license as well.”
The duke’s expression sobered. “Are you both quite sure? I would not steal a moment of your day.”
“We are agreed on it,” Jude assured him. “We thought since you will be present in the chapel anyway you may as well take full advantage.”
“I will speak to Diane, but I only just offered for her last night—”
“She knows,” Jude said, cutting him off before his father could work himself into a fretting state. “Josie already spoke to her.”
A broad, disbelieving smile broke across the duke’s face. “Then who am I to say no?”
“Excellent. Shall we depart for the chapel?”
His father blinked. “Now?”
“Is there another time you would prefer to get married?” Jude teased.
Letting out a grunt, the duke pushed himself to his feet. “I suppose now is as good a time as any. Have you informed Luca and Charlotte?”
“They will be waiting for us at the chapel.”
They made their way towards the main door, and his father glanced sideways at him. “I spoke to the queen about your troublesome circumstances.”
Jude nearly stumbled. “You did?”
His father nodded. “Yes. And Her Majesty was insistent on attending your wedding ball. She hopes her presence will squash any rumors that may arise once Mr. Broderick goes to trial.”
“I do not care about rumors.”
“You will, given time,” the duke said gently. “A spotless reputation is a powerful tool. You can accomplish a great deal of good if Society has not turned its back on you.”
Jude inhaled deeply. “Thank you, Father.”
The duke stopped walking, turning to face him fully. For a moment, the older man simply studied him—really, truly studied him.
“I know sentiment is not my strong suit,” he said. “But I want you to know that I am proud of you. You have become a fine young man.”
Emotion tightened Jude’s throat so suddenly he had to purse his lips to keep from embarrassing himself. “That means a great deal to me.”
“I should say it more,” his father continued, his voice rough, “but I too often lose myself in my own troubles.”
“Don’t we all?” Jude replied.
The duke’s smile returned. “I am glad you fought for Lady Josephine. She is a worthy partner for you.”
“That she is,” Jude agreed.
The duke squeezed Jude’s sleeve. “Then let us not wait another moment.”
Outside, Lord Rupert stood near the waiting coach, arms crossed, his expression grave—except for the unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I wished to offer my condolences,” Rupert said, stepping closer. “You are the last of my friends to fall prey to the parson’s mousetrap.”
The duke dipped his head. “Lord Rupert.”
Rupert bowed. “Your Grace.”
“I will be in the coach,” the duke said before climbing in.
Once they were alone, Jude arched a brow. “If you are here to talk me out of marrying Josie, you will be sorely disappointed.”
“Good heavens, no,” Rupert said with a scoff. “That would be an unwinnable battle. I merely came to offer a wedding gift.”
Jude folded his arms. “Which is?”
Rupert lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I spoke to a judge who has agreed to transport Mr. Broderick.”
Jude stiffened. “But… what of a trial?”
Rupert’s smirk sharpened. “When I explained that abducting an heiress could result in hanging, Mr. Broderick became remarkably eager for transport.”
“And Lord Leroy Tweedale?”
“Oh, he accepted debtor’s prison,” Rupert said cheerfully.
“He agreed willingly?”
“Well,” Rupert drawled, “his alternative was a cramped, shared cell in Newgate. The condition of his sentence is that he refrains from dragging his family’s name through the mud.”
Jude stared at him, both impressed and confounded. “How did you manage this so quickly?”
Rupert gave a careless shrug. “I can be persuasive when the occasion demands it. And I wished to ensure the scandal did not follow you or Lady Josephine.”
Gratitude swelled in Jude’s chest. “Thank you, Rupert. Truly.”
“There is one thing I want in return.”
“Anything.”
Rupert’s gaze softened. “Be happy.”
“I am,” Jude said, the truth of it startling even himself. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”
“Good,” Rupert replied before he strolled away.
Jude climbed into the coach opposite his father and exhaled slowly, a smile blooming across his face.
“Today,” he started, “is a very good day to get married.”