Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER…
Josephine sat curled in the small armchair near the hearth, a book open in her lap.
She had been staring at the same paragraph for nearly ten minutes, her gaze drifting to the window yet again.
Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent her heart leaping in hopeful anticipation.
Jude had ridden to Ashmoore Hall for additional supplies several hours earlier, and although she trusted he was perfectly capable, she still counted the minutes until his return.
She loved being here with him in the cottage—loved the simplicity of it, the ease of their days. Loved him. She doubted she would ever tire of his presence, or of the way he teased her, or of the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching.
A distant sound broke through her thoughts.
Hoofbeats.
Her fingers tightened around the edges of her book. When the steady rhythm of the hooves grew louder—closer—Josephine’s pulse fluttered. She set the book aside and rose just as a firm knock sounded on the door.
“Josie, it is me,” Jude called out.
Smiling, Josephine approached the door. “You will have to be more specific than that,” she said, unable to resist. “There are a great many unsavory people who wander these woods.”
A low chuckle answered her. “You are a minx, my love.”
His voice—warm, familiar—wrapped around her like a blanket. She undid the latch and opened the door, her heart lifting at the sight of him: wind-tousled hair, cheeks flushed from the ride, and that smile—the one she felt in her chest.
“Welcome home, my love,” she murmured.
Jude leaned across the threshold and kissed her, slow and claiming. “Dare I ask if you missed me?”
“I did,” she said, tipping her chin playfully. “But only because I was hungry.”
“Is that so?” Amusement softened his eyes. He stepped aside to gesture to the two footmen behind him, both carrying baskets stacked nearly to their chins. “Then you will be pleased to know that Mrs. Littleton sent enough food to sustain an army.”
Josephine stepped back to let the footmen pass. They set the baskets near the table and departed with a polite bow. When the door was shut once more, Jude slid the latch into place.
“We are alone again,” he remarked as he waggled his eyebrows.
“That we are,” Josephine said, though her attention drifted to the baskets. “Did Mrs. Littleton pack any biscuits?”
“I made certain of it.”
Josephine lifted the lids of several baskets, letting out a soft gasp. “She truly outdid herself.”
“Well, when I told Mrs. Littleton that you were growing desperately tired of rabbit stew, she decided drastic action was needed.”
Josephine pressed a hand to her chest. “I love your rabbit stew, but—”
“Liar,” Jude cut in, stepping closer. “It was awfully convenient that the pot tipped over directly into the fire.”
Her mouth fell open. “It was an accident!”
He arched a brow. “Mm-hmm. And I suppose it was also accidental that you ‘mistakenly’ loosened the snare and let the rabbits escape before I could check the traps?”
“I refuse to apologize,” Josephine sniffed. “They were sweet, cuddly rabbits.”
“They were supper.”
She huffed. “Perhaps I shall keep one as a pet instead. I could put a tiny leash on it and take it for walks.”
“You cannot walk a rabbit.”
“Challenge accepted,” she said brightly.
He laughed and slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her against him. “There was no challenge issued.”
“I heard one.”
“Then you heard incorrectly.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “It is a pity we must return to Town in a few days. I have greatly enjoyed having you here… alone… with no interruptions.”
Josephine looped her arms around his neck. “This cottage has become my favorite place in the whole world because you are in it. What if we stayed? What if we didn’t return at all? Do you think anyone would miss us?”
“I suppose some might,” he teased. “But I like the way you think.” He paused. “Speaking of people who might miss you… I nearly forgot. A letter arrived for you.”
“A letter?” She frowned. “From whom?”
“Your brother.” He reached into his coat and withdrew a folded envelope.
“It can wait,” Josephine murmured, lifting onto her toes to press a kiss to his stubbled jaw.
“Are you not the least bit curious?” Jude dangled the envelope between two fingers.
Josephine sighed. “I am,” she admitted, taking it from him. “But I would rather kiss you.”
“You may do both,” he said, stepping back with a grin.
With a reluctant huff, she broke the seal and unfolded the letter. As her eyes scanned the words, her smile slowly faded. Her brows drew together. Her hand tightened around the parchment. When she finished, she looked up.
Jude’s expression shifted immediately. “What is wrong?”
She exhaled sharply. “It turns out Uncle Leroy’s deception was worse than anyone realized. He did not merely mismanage Alexander’s estate. He embezzled money. A substantial amount. Alexander says the estate is in dire straits, and he will need to sell parcels of land just to keep it afloat.”
Jude’s jaw tightened. “That is… unforgivable.”
“It is,” Josephine agreed. She stared at the letter, her throat tightening. “Uncle Leroy has been moved to Newgate to await trial. He may spend the rest of his life in prison.”
“Considering what he has done, it seems justice will be served.”
Josephine nodded, though the heaviness in her chest did not lessen. “But it is not only that. Alexander uncovered the truth about his financial dealings with Mr. Broderick. He said the level of depravity was… appalling.” She swallowed. “He has cut all ties.”
“Good. Especially now that Broderick has been transported.”
“Yes. But because the Crown seized all of Broderick’s assets, Alexander suffered for that partnership as well.” Her fingers trembled slightly. “He writes to ask if he may borrow my dowry until the estate recovers.”
“I take no issue with that,” Jude said without hesitation.
Her breath hitched. Gratitude warmed her from the inside out. “Thank you. Truly.”
“I will give you anything your heart desires, my love. All you need to do is ask.”
With a smile, she replied, “The good news is that Lady Gwendolyn cried off their engagement once she discovered Alexander’s estate was floundering. She eloped with Lord Hobart instead. My brother is devastated.”
“Hobart?” Jude repeated. “That man is ancient.”
“Yes, but he is quite wealthy and a marquess,” Josephine remarked.
“Your poor brother.”
“I did try to warn him repeatedly.”
“That you did,” Jude agreed.
Her smile grew. “Now, did you not promise me anything my heart desires?”
“I did,” Jude replied warily.
With a flourish of her hand, she declared, “I have decided I would like a rabbit as a pet.”
He groaned. “Anything except that.”
She laughed lightly. “Very well. I don’t need a pet—I have you.”
“How so?” he asked, eyes narrowing playfully.
“Well,” she said, pressing a hand to his chest, “I ensure you are properly fed, and I take you on long walks through the gardens.”
“You are an incorrigible minx.”
“So you remind me. Repeatedly.”
She lifted her face to kiss him, and Jude chuckled against her lips. “Have I told you how glad I am that you stumbled upon my cottage that day?” he asked.
“You have,” she responded.
“Good. Because that was the day everything changed for me.”
“For me, as well.” She leaned closer, brushing her lips over his. “And I am sorry for threatening you with a pitchfork.”
“In all fairness, I was pointing a rifle at you.”
Josephine rose onto her toes, her smile tender. “And still, you chose me.”
He cupped her face, his voice rough with affection. “Always.”
Then he kissed her, and the world settled perfectly into place.
The End