Thief Steals Her Earl

by McKnight, Christina

  “Miss Judith Pengarden,” he said, an unasked question in his tone.

  “Yes, Lord Cartwright.” She despised the use of formal names between the pair of them, but she desperately wanted him to stay, to keep talking…but most of all, to never let her go.

  “I am going to kiss you now.” His hand squeezed hers, pulling her the short distance to him. His other arm wrapped about her waist, dragging her even closer as his lips captured hers.

  Jude hadn’t time to say anything or utter a protest, though that was the furthest thing from her mind.

  At the moment, she simply concentrated on keeping pace with him—his kiss was far more demanding this time. There was nothing tentative or hesitant in the way his mouth pressed solidly against hers, coaxing her lips to part as his tongue brushed lightly along her bottom lip. She could feel his hand massaging her lower back.

  Finally, his lips left hers and she sucked in a deep breath as he placed small kisses along her jaw, collecting any stray tears that may have hung on. He released her hand and brought his to her cheek, his fingers stroking the opposite side he’d kissed, then gently caressing down her neck.

  A moan escaped Jude as she tried to keep control of her senses.

  His lips reached her ear and he nibbled at her lobe before tracing a path back to her parted lips. Their mouths met again as if they were used to one another and fit together as perfectly as their hands had. Their tongues danced as their lips found a rhythm all their own.

  Jude wanted this to last forever.

  “I did not mean for any of this to happen, but I am so grateful for all that transpired—leading to you.” Jude laid her entire self before him, no longer willing to hide anything. She would not hide who she was or what she wanted. And she’d never wanted anything more than the man before her.

  “I have been misled, deceived, and hurt in my past,” he breathed, his lips still so close to hers. Jude couldn’t move, was afraid she’d stop his words from coming, but she needed, desperately, to hear them—just as he needed to hear hers. “I feared you had done the same—used me to gain only what you sought.”

  “Never.”

  “I have come to live my life based on facts, numbers, proven theories, and known conclusions—but you are none of those things. I cannot house you in a small box nor do I have explanations for the immense responsibility and adoration I feel for you, despite all you have done. I cannot reconcile any of it, not to my own satisfaction or yours. I should walk away. I should put you from my life and my mind—yet, each time I try, I find I cannot. Every thought I have revolves around you. Your presence banishes the mere thought of rational thinking from my mind. You are a temptress, and I find myself powerless to resist.”

  “I did not know anything of you or your family’s past when we met,” she confided. “You must believe me.”

  “Never did I believe you were the callous woman your actions pointed to.”

  She cringed at the term callous, as she’d never meant to harm him in anyway. “I’d only sought to help my family…and yes, I fully regret the way I went about it and the injury I caused you, especially.”

  In Cart’s arms—there was no other place she could be happy and content. His embrace was strong and commanding. But Jude sensed he would never restrict her or try to tame her in any way.

  Too soon, he pulled back. Jude felt the giant void between them return, even though his arms still held her.

  “You would turn yourself over to the magistrate just to show me you love me?” His question was asked in a tone of complete bewilderment, his eyes searching hers for the truth of the matter. “You would give up your family, your freedom, and your future to prove to me how repentant you are?”

  “No,” Jude shook her head vehemently. She wanted no other misunderstandings between them. Not ever again. “I would give that all up for you…only you. Not to prove any point or show my remorse, but to see you look at me like you are right now.”

  His face clouded with confusion once more and he pulled slightly away from her. “How is that?”

  “Like I am the only thing in the room you notice, even with a treasured vase close at hand or a scepter forged of the strongest steel.” Jude paused, remembering each moment she’d noticed the stare. “As if you are sopping wet and covered in pond muck to your knees, but still can barely take your gaze from me to notice the crowd of onlookers.”

  “I was mortified in that moment,” he confessed, a blush traveling up from his shirt collar. “My saving grace, if I remember correctly, was a pair of moss-green doe eyes that kept locked with mine, at least until I was able to crawl from the water. Were there so many people staring?”

  Jude laughed at his wide-eyed expression, horror written all over his face. “No, certainly not that many. Only a hundred or so of London’s upper crust.”

  They’d so easily reverted to their light, teasing companionship. Something Jude cherished more than anything. It gave her hope. Not that he’d forgiven her, but that maybe he one day would. and they could establish some sort of friendship beyond the forgiveness a kiss promised. Longing for anything more was destined to crush her.

  “What in the devil is he doing back here again?” Garrett’s deep voice thundered from behind Cart. “And why are his hands touching your backside?”

  Cart tensed at the gruff words.

  “Oh, Garrett,” a familiar and comforting voice scolded. “Do stop your peacocking and strutting. I am certain our Samantha can explain everything if you’ll only calm yourself.”

  “That is not Samantha!” Garrett flung his hands wildly as if wondering why he was the only person in the room reacting to the scene before him.

  Jude stared as Marce’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Judith Pengarden—you will explain posthaste, but first, Garrett, close that door before all of London witnesses the embrace in our foyer.”

  Chapter 26

  Cart accepted a tumbler of spirits, uncertain what specific liquor it contained but fearful of declining Jude’s brother’s offer of a drink. It was not often he partook in drinking anything stronger than a sherry as it inhibited the mind and further decelerated his judgment capabilities. Not a fact widely accepted, but one that Cart had seen firsthand with his father.

  The group had retired to a room completely unfamiliar to him. It housed the household ledgers and many other books, including a small desk, clearly designed for the delicate frame of a female, as opposed to a full-grown man. In other households, it might be referred to as an office of sorts, but the shockingly feminine shades of lavender and sea green dispelled the notion immediately.

  The color palate was so overpowering and distracting Cart could not see himself being able to concentrate on anything academic in this room. Even now, his eye was drawn to a small lamp upon the white desk, its shade embellished with green tassels and a gaudy, jeweled trim. The fixture appeared completely unsuitable to hold a candle without burning the entire house down. He should mention something to Jude’s sister about it before departing—if he made it out of this room with his skin still attached.

  With the pacing and angry muttering coming from Garrett, Cart would bet against his survival. Not that he was a betting man. No, he chose to invest in facts and logic. At the moment, logic and his gut instinct were in alignment.

  The only thing giving him some semblance of ease was Jude’s eldest sister, who’d immediately embraced Jude after Cart had let her go and then led her to this room, leaving Cart with only two options: depart semi-unnoticed or follow them.

  There was only one place Cart wanted to be—at Jude’s side.

  Despite all she’d done, everything she’d been less than truthful about, she’d done what she had to do to help her family. Cart could not fault her for that. He’d done the same since returning from university. He’d embraced what most of society saw as distastefully gauche. With much effort and energy, he’d worked hard. Though he wasn’t toiling in a field or building structures, he was using his skill and knowledge
gained by countless hours of learning to achieve the level of an esteemed antiquities expert. No small feat in the world of academia. If Cart had been afforded the luxury of choosing his own path in life, he’d likely work for a museum or university where he could continue studying the precious pieces he adored.

  Possibly even participate in an excursion to foreign lands in search of rare new artifacts.

  But as a peer, that was not an option for him—and he was resigned to that fact.

  He’d dedicated himself to making his entire household a place of learning. Theo was awarded the finest tutors he could find, even though it meant more shillings than he had. Cart not only searched for his own family heirlooms, but he’d amassed a rather impressive collection of other fine artifacts and paintings, as well.

  The hope was that the future Earl of Cartwright, after Simon was long forgotten, would continue in his stead and preserve all matters of historical import.

  It was only since meeting Jude that Cart had realized what a lonely existence he’d settled on for himself. No amount of possessions in the world could alleviate or replace that of a companion. Though not just any companion would do any longer. He’d survived with Theo for company all these years, but it was her time to live her own life, explore what England had to offer, and decide on her own path—which left Cart to pick up the pieces.

  The most strategic piece was right in front of him—a woman he’d known, somewhere deep inside, was meant for him and him alone. A woman who had drawn him from his mundane and routine existence with barely any effort. A woman willing to give up her entire life—family, home, and future—for him.

  It was a dedication he’d never imagined possible, especially directed at him.

  Certainly he’d seen the immense love his parents had shared and his mother had never recovered from his father’s sudden passing. But he’d also witnessed the aftermath of that love—his mother’s domineering, shrewish, harsh demeanor where she’d become withdrawn and nothing like the woman who’d raised him.

  Those were the consequences of love.

  He’d studied every aspect of it. His parents shared a great love. But when his father was lost far too soon, his mother suffered from it. Love harmed far more people than it helped.

  Or, at least, that’d been the outcome of facts in his short study of the matter called love.

  He didn’t want that for himself or Jude.

  However, somewhere along the way—during their short journey—Cart had made a new discovery.

  Loving Jude—every wonderful, exciting, and unsettling aspect of her—was worth years of pain, heartbreak, and bitterness he might experience if he ever lost her.

  Their journey together would be worth far more than any artifact, painting, or ancient tome he could collect.

  But how to express that to her?

  “Marce, Judith,” Garrett roared. “Leave Lord Cartwright and me to speak in private.”

  “No, Garrett, I love you but—“

  Garrett held up his hand, halting Jude’s protest. “This is a discussion for gentlemen. I will handle this and let you know what terms we reach.”

  Terms?

  “Terms?” Jude called, mirroring Cart’s thoughts, not for the first time. “I am not livestock to be bartered and sold, Brother. Marce, say something!” She turned to her sister for help.

  Cart was not privy to their family’s inner workings, but he’d always suspected Marce, the Madame of Craven House, to be in control, ever since the moment he’d passed them leaving the night watchman’s residence.

  “Jude,” Cart started, uncertain how she’d react to what he had to say. “Mayhap your brother and I—“

  “Absolutely not.” Jude moved to his side. “This—all of this—is between us. No one else.”

  “We have not all properly met,” Marce said, stepping forward and taking control of the situation. “It is very good to see you again, Lord Cartwright. Might I introduce my brother, Lord Garrett. Garrett Davenport, Lord Cartwright—but I believe many call him Cart.”

  “Cartwright,” Lord Garrett growled. “If the women seek to be present, then I will ask you for them…what are your intentions with my sister?”

  Cart recognized Lord Garrett for what he was, a brother terrified for his younger sister. It was a feeling Cart could well understand, being an elder brother himself. But appeasing the anger that came along with his feelings of terror was another thing entirely.

  “My intentions?” he asked, setting his untouched tumbler on a small table. Cart sensed the coming conversation would take all of his wit to endure. “I…well…”

  “Lord Cartwright.” Jude placed her hand on his arm and he turned to look into her deep green eyes. Within them, he noticed her emotions were as unsettled as his own, rolling like the green hills of his family estates. “You do not answer to him.”

  “My coming words will not be directed specifically at him, nor to your sister, though I highly respect her supervision of your care and well-being.” Cart paused to calm his nerves. What came next would change his life—and hers, he hoped—for the better. “Miss Judith Pengarden,” he said, taking hold of both her hands and looking only at her. The others in the room faded as he lost himself in her face, her small smile, and the way she tried to hide her irritation with everyone present. “We have not had an acquaintance of great longevity and complete openness. At the basest nature of our association, I believe we have come to know one another at a level many others do not achieve in many decades’ time.”

  “What does any of that mean, Cartwright?” Lord Garrett asked before draining his tumbler. “You are one of the strangest men I have ever met.”

  “Shhhh,” Marce hissed. “Be quiet and take notes, my dear brother. I believe you are witnessing what many would call a proposal of the most romantic kind—one you can only read about from the greatest poets of our time.”

  Cart heard their voices, but they faded into the background. All he could see was Jude, smiling at him with the most honesty he’d ever seen in her.

  And that was all he needed to keep speaking…

  Chapter 27

  Jude stood, enthralled by his words, by his tone, by his every breath. She’d never witnessed Cart in such an imperious way—he was forceful in his stare and confident in the way he held her hands, firmly, but with gentleness only he possessed.

  Somewhere behind her—and far away—Jude sensed the door to Craven House’s office open and close as Garrett and Marce left, giving them the privacy she needed.

  She was ready to give Cart everything—but telling her sister and brother what she and Sam had been doing all these months was too much, but with Cart by her side, maybe one day she could.

  “Miss Judith Pengarden,” Cart started again, never once taking his eyes from her as his hands released her and framed her face. “Nothing in my life has prepared me for you. You are everything I am not—cunning, adventurous, spontaneous, fearless. I could recite your qualities all day and never run out of words. But your best quality is that you scare me to death…you force me to recognize all that is lacking within myself.”

  “You are not lacking,” she protested, eyes wide.

  “Not outwardly, but in my heart.” Cart didn’t know how to make her understand something he was barely realizing himself. He raised their clasped hands and untangled their fingers before placing her palm on his chest. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When she nodded, wordlessly, he continued. “That is my heart beating. It beats more solidly than it ever has before…because of you. I feel alive, not lost in my studies of ancient things. I am here, I am present…and that is all thanks to you. The change I feel within is all because of you, Jude.”

  “But I lied about so many things.” It was the one thing she regretted about everything and, eventually, it would be the only thing that stood between them. His heart continued to beat beneath her hand—steady and sure. “How can I be responsible for any of this change?”

  “You may not have been com
pletely honest with me, but like you said before, our connection goes far deeper than the surface. Beneath both of our shortcomings, we are linked on a level more primitive and transcendent than I knew existed. You never once noticed my oddities and I see the woman behind your actions.”

  His words were too much to hope for, Jude knew. “I have brought scandal to your family—tarnished your good name even beyond that of your uncle.”

  “How do you know of that?” His face clouded and she sensed him retreating, but she would not allow it.

  “Garrett told me of your uncle’s deception, his lies, and his disappearance.” She pulled her hand from his chest and moved his palm to hers. “Feel my heartbeat as I tell you this…I have never met someone with more compassion and understanding as you, Cart. For a rational man, you are able to look past the facts of our situation and truly appreciate my actions. I never, in a million years, sought to hurt you—in any way.” She knew her heart sped up as she confessed her innermost thoughts, the beat surely felt by his hand. “I would give anything to go back and start over. I would also, if you demanded it, give myself up for my crimes. I would clear your family name by taking responsibility for everything.”

  “That will never be what I want.” He lifted her fingers to his lips. “There is a time when happiness is far more important than anything else. If I am happy, my family will be happy, and society will see that happiness and hopefully celebrate with us.”

  Us. Jude didn’t know what to say. The same thing continued to swirl through her mind. She’d tried to ignore it, push it from her thoughts, but it was the one thing that kept returning. “I thought you said our entire relationship was a mistake…”

  “Yes, but if you’ll remember, I also said that intent has little bearing on consequences—well, your intent was to use me to rid yourself of a certain stolen vase…but the consequences are nothing either of us could have foreseen.”