And so, Jude had kept away from a place she knew she’d love if given greater opportunity to explore its treasures.
Exploring treasures—oh, how she’d take great pleasure in exploring a certain man who was soon to be arriving at the library.
“Miss Samantha, Miss Judith,” Darla, their housekeeper, called. Jude opened her eyes to see Darla in the open doorway. “Your carriage is waiting in the drive.”
Jude acted disinterested as Sam stood, her fashion plates forgotten at the prospect of visiting Lady Haversham’s home during prime calling hours.
“I am not feeling quite the thing,” Jude exclaimed. “I think I will remain home, but do give my sincere apologies to Lady Haversham and Mrs. Jakeston.”
“You cannot desert me,” Sam said halfheartedly. There was nothing more her sister enjoyed than being the only twin.
“I am certain you will manage without me this once.” Jude had found herself exhausted from Sam’s incessant wonderings over the vase—when it would be gone, when they’d have the money for it, and why Jude hadn’t pushed her acquaintance with Lord Cartwright. What her sister was unaware of was that her acquaintance with Cart had surpassed what was proper and if Jude had anything to say about it, would venture into scandalous territory. It was for many reasons that Jude wasn’t telling Sam her plans for the day. “I will await you here so you can regale me with news of how your afternoon went.”
Jude was hedging her bets on Sam’s need to feel important and it worked.
“Very well.” Sam smiled, her light green dress complementing her hair coiled tightly at her crown.
“I can accompany you,” Payton called from her place at the window. “I am in my last year of studies anyways. One missed lesson will hurt me naught.”
“That is not necessary.” Of course, Sam did not wish her sister to tag along, usurping the lavish attention heaped on a newly introduced debutante. “You are far too young—and inexperienced—for Lady Haversham’s salon. Imagine if you embarrassed Marce. She would be very upset.”
“Good afternoon, dear sisters. Who are you three upsetting now?” Garrett strode into the room, bending slightly to place a quick kiss on the housekeeper’s cheek. Highly inappropriate, though it was Garrett’s inclination to push boundaries and shock people whenever possible. “Must I lock you all away until Marce returns? That would mean more work for me—and you know I abhor labor of any sort.”
Sam crossed her arms, turning a scathing look on him.
Payton laughed, an unrestrained sound of merriment—a rare occurrence.
“Why you always think we are up to no good, I will never know,” Sam exclaimed, affronted, before pushing past him to follow Darla from the room.
“She does always know how to make a dramatic exit.” Garrett moved into the room and slung himself on the lounge, much the same as he’d done the day Marce had departed for her trip. “For a previous bordello, this house is certainly the most boring and tedious residence in all of England. Is this all you ladies do all day?”
“Brother, you brought the dreary shadow of boredom with you,” Jude teased. “Alas, it will not be by our hand that you see any type of excitement while Marce is away. We are taking her warning to heart and keeping ourselves out of trouble.”
“And what will occupy your day, my dear, favorite sister?”
His words rankled Payton, as he’d intended. There was nothing that annoyed their youngest sibling more than feeling the odd one out. Marce and Garrett were linked by the many years they’d spent together before their father passed away and their mother moved on to have other children. Sam and she were close, for obvious reasons, but with Marce and Sam gone, Payton desperately longed to be the favored sibling to their only brother.
True to form, Payton stood with a loud huff and followed Sam from the room.
“You certainly know how to clear a room of females,” Jude said with a chuckle. “How do you expect to gain the notice of a proper lady and con her into wedding a rakehell?”
“I am not lacking in female companionship, never you fear.”
“I said proper female.”
“Proper women of the ton are lying in wait at every corner,”—he sighed throwing his arm across his face—“and those types of women will never be conned, as you put it, by a mere younger son with no title or money. Besides, if you and Sam are any indication of what constitutes acceptable behavior for young debutantes, then I am ecstatic to stay far from your drab kind.”
“My drab kind?” Jude laughed.
“You heard me correctly.” He moved to sit, tossing a golden pillow her way. “You were much more entertaining before you set your sights on being accepted by society—even Payton could be counted on for a laugh every once in a while, but now…”
Jude longed to share with her brother exactly how unladylike and nonconformist she and Sam had been of late. Part of her knew he’d find a way out for them—fix everything before it went awry—and keep Lord Cartwright from learning that she was a complete fraud.
Alas, she’d sworn to her twin to keep everything between them, never to tell any of their siblings the lengths they’d gone to help Marce—and keep their home.
“I am sorry you find your family so entirely unappealing, dear brother.” Jude stood, eyeing the vase nestled unwittingly on the table behind the lounge Garrett occupied. “What are your plans for today?”
“I thought I might visit my fencing club.” He closed his eyes and pushed out an exaggerated breath. “Or maybe attend Tattersall’s. I am unsure, but I must return to prepare and organize for this evening.”
Jude needed to retrieve the vase and leave immediately if she wanted to be on time to meet Cart. It would be disastrous if he thought she’d called off on their plans.
“I think I will retire to my chambers.” Jude stood, navigating her way toward the table. Garrett’s position made it impossible for him to keep his watch on her. She gathered Sam’s fashion plates for guise and grasped the vase before turning toward the door. “Please send for me if you need assistance with anything.”
“Certainly,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. “Enjoy your afternoon.”
“I intend to.” Jude knew her mistake the second the words left her mouth—it wasn’t the words but the way she’d said them.
Garrett lifted his head from the chaise and followed her progression toward the door. “What have you there?”
Jude raised her hand that held the plates. “Sam forgot her things. I will return them to our bedchamber.” Slyly, she tucked the vase to her side, praying her skirt hid it from his view.
She slipped from the room and took the stairs quickly to their bedchambers. Once safely inside, she pulled a satchel from under her bed and sat it on her dressing table, propped open. It would be necessary to wrap the delicate antiquity in something soft and nonabrasive for her walk to the circulating library. She grabbed Sam’s forgotten wrap that hung limply from the foot of her bed. It would offer enough padding and protection for her short trip—and with any luck, Jude would not return with the piece—but a tote full of banknotes.
A tendril of regret burrowed deep, taking hold as she placed the vase in the satchel.
But Jude couldn’t allow herself to feel guilty over using Cart. Her family needed the money and he would be overjoyed to possess the vase.
She must think of it as a fair trade, anything to relieve the immense regret that plagued her as she hurried from Craven House. It would not be wise to explore the reasoning behind her guilt over duping Lord Cartwright. One thing was for certain, it was not because she longed to kiss him again. Her chances of fulfilling that wish if he ever found out her duplicity would be nil.
Chapter 14
Cart wandered down an aisle housing what the library called their Ancient Section, which was certainly a jest, for the row only boasted approximately eighty-two books of varying sizes. By Cart’s calculations, that was the most a bookcase of these dimensions and construction could support before
the shelves gave way due to the weight.
It was not worth pondering the ridiculous notion that these eighty-two books held all the knowledge recorded about Ancient anything. In his own library, Cart had double this amount on the history of weather patterns across the known world alone.
Why had he allowed Jude to convince him that Sir Edwin’s Circulating Library would offer all that was needed to date and record the origins of her vase?
For certain because it eliminated the possibility of Jude and Lady Cartwright coming face-to-face. The last time Jude had visited his home had been too close for comfort. Not that he wished to hide his budding friendship with Jude. He only hoped to spare her the barbed tongue of his mother.
The place was inviting enough; housing a large room filled with tables, chairs, and settees for visitors to sit and read—or visit with acquaintances. The temperature was not stifling, nor chilly, but somewhere in the middle, which would enhance the energy needed to retain any book read within. It was a favorable environment for learning—if only there were not so many people and voices to contend with.
He reached the end of the aisle he’d been browsing—going between nervous anticipation of when Jude would arrive and utter dread if she had a change of heart and called off—and searched the main room for Theo, who’d tagged along in delight at visiting a true circulating library. Cart had regularly sought out the small areas at White’s Gentlemen’s Club that offered minimal volumes but afforded much space for one to hide if one wished to get away from an overly loud household.
There was no such silence to be had here—it suited Theo grandly, but left many things to be desired for Cart. The only positive was that due to the public nature of the establishment, Jude need not bring a chaperone—or so she’d said a few days past at the park.
The park.
Cart shook his head to rid the thoughts swirling on the fringes of his subconscious.
Images replaying over and over…some very real, while others were more of the imaginary nature.
But even with the thoughts gone, he could still feel the warmth of her lips on his and the softness of the skin above her gloves when he’d truly stepped over the boundaries and caressed her upper arm just below her sleeve. The moment had taken him by surprise—so much so that he’d run the moment he returned Jude to her sisters. His mind shouted that it needed time to reconcile what the kiss had meant—for both of them. He certainly hadn’t instigated the intimacy, but neither had he stopped her when he realized her intent. And, undoubtedly, he had not been the first to pull back.
To think that anyone could have wandered upon them… Jude would have been ruined, caught in the embrace of a man. He shuddered to think what would have been necessary on his part if they had been discovered. A confession about subjects he never sought to tell her; a side of him he hoped to keep from her.
He was a pauper.
He had been swindled out of most of his inheritance by a trusted relative.
He was a proven dullard. A family disgrace.
He was earning a living to keep his family fed and clothed.
And, debatably, the worst, he lived with his shrew of a mother, who reminded him of all of those facts each time they both frequented a room at the same time.
Finally, he located Theo across the large room doing much the same as he, wandering a section far less grand and organized than it should be. Though a great distance from him, Cart made out the signage about the row: Novels (Adventure, mystery, and thrills).
He smiled, knowing she’d located the perfect area for her tastes, which would make for a far more enjoyable afternoon, out from under their mother’s watchful eye. She’d likely find a book filled with tales of swashbuckling pirates or a maiden princess. Fabricated stories that lent no true learning, but rather taught the young that belief in the imaginary was a worthwhile pastime.
For him, that time had passed when he’d learned his time at university would be cut short, his return to London demanded immediately. He hadn’t even the funds then to hire a proper carriage, nor had his mother sent one for him. He’d begged enough coin from a professor to gain transport on a mail coach that had left Eton before dawn one morning, traversing the twenty-four miles from Windsor to London in cramped quarters.
He gave a small wave when Theo looked his way and ducked back into the row, not wanting her to stumble upon him and Jude…if she ever arrived.
The tall clock in the main room chimed once.
Jude wasn’t late at all. It was he that was early, being unsure how long the walk would take.
Cart concentrated on calming himself. It would not do to have her arrive with him so nervous his forehead perspired and his palms became moist.
His physical response to her didn’t make sense in the slightest and he feared it was mainly due to his emotional reaction to her person—or just the thought of her. Her silky auburn hair. Or her height—tall in comparison to most petite debutantes. Though he found her slender form pleasing to the eye and comfortable to walk next to. It could also surely be her way of laughing when he spoke out loud instead of analyzing something in his mind.
Her mind…his body most definitely had a positive reaction to her mind. They hadn’t spoken of the weather or other mundane topics since their first acquaintance.
It was both refreshing and terrifying at the same time.
“Lord Cartwright?”
Suddenly, she stood before him, appearing out of nowhere—or maybe manifesting from his thoughts. She'd slipped into the library unnoticed, even though Cart had glanced toward the doors often.
They hadn’t seen one another since the park and the images locked in his mind did not do her justice. She was truly breathtaking, especially with her long, dark coat buttoned to her throat and her hair partly freed to hang about her shoulders.
“I hope I did not keep you waiting overly long,” she said, her eyes avoiding his gaze.
He wanted to tell her he’d wait an eternity if it meant she would eventually come to him. Instead, he replied, “No, not at all. I was able to survey the selection while I waited.”
They stood a few feet apart in silence.
“Shall we sit?” He gestured to a small table with two chairs set apart from the main room. “Do allow me to take your coat and bag. It must be heavy.”
She released the satchel with no fuss and followed him to the table where he pulled a chair out for her to sit—only hoping it was the proper thing to do. She inclined her head as she quickly unbuttoned her coat and handed it to him.
“I hope your journey here was uneventful,” he said, his attempt at idle talk while he took his seat across from her.
“The walk was brisk and refreshing, though without incident.”
“You walked,” he stammered. “Alone?”
“It is daylight hours and the streets are populated. I assure you, it was quite proper.”
He was startled to realize it was not propriety he worried over but her safety. “I was not calling into question your respectability.”
“That is good to hear because someone would certainly see our time together at the park highly indecent.”
She regretted their kiss—wished it had never occurred.
He’d known this possibility existed and shouldn’t be shocked that she was voicing her concern over their actions on that day.
Her hand landed on his where it rested on the table between them and she grinned.
She was being nice, yet firmly communicating to him that another kiss was not in their future. The pit of his stomach dropped at the thought, for what else could her words and gesture mean?
She pitied him. At least, she was kind enough to continue their friendship.
Cart cleared his throat, determined to show her he could also overlook what they’d done and continue a suitable relationship. “May I see the vase?”
It stung that she obviously hadn’t been impacted the same as he by the kiss. Or that she had, but had since changed her mind.
&nb
sp; Cart eyed her as she tugged the satchel toward her and pulled a wrapped bundle from inside. Jude had taken great care with packaging the precious vase before leaving her residence. It was something to be admired, for there were so many who abused antiquities, causing them irreversible harm, but not Jude. She’d swaddled the vase in a crocheted shawl of some sort.
“Would you like to unwrap it?” she asked, holding the object out to him.
He desperately wanted to remove the cloth and behold what secrets lay beneath—his heart pounded and his breathing became shallow at the anticipation of it. It was much the same with any new piece he beheld. It was a rush and, currently, the only thing that could lighten his disappointment in Jude’s reaction—or lack thereof—to their kiss.
Taking the bundle, Cart slowly unwound the material guarding the vase.
The piece was light, almost weightless in his hands as the last of the material fell away. Cart couldn’t stop from gasping.
He wanted to hand the vase back to Jude, act as if he hadn’t seen it, and allow their relationship to take a step back—a mutual fondness for antiquities, a thirst for historical knowledge, enjoyment in academia—but he knew he had to inspect the vase. Make sure his suspicions were correct, leaving no doubt in his mind that the woman before him was a fraud.
Flipping the piece on its side, Cart identified the subtle orange undertones created by the artist, the rough base, and the nick Lord Gunther had caused himself.
He kept his gaze trained on the vase, for he was certain his eyes would give away his anger, his shock, and his total disbelief.
“Where did you get this?” he questioned in a whisper.
“It is beautiful, is it not?”
For a moment, Cart felt sympathy for her. Certainly she did not know the vase was stolen or that Cart had been retained to find the piece and get it back at any cost to its owner. She could not be the heartless woman he saw before him, a woman playing off his emotions and using him for her own gain.
Thief Steals Her Earl Page 14
