He tensed beneath her. “She did?”
Audrey nodded, fascinated by how his heart rate increased beneath her ear. “Just before I left her chamber.”
He was quiet for a long moment before he said, “It isn’t wrong to still feel desire, Audrey. In moments of intense emotion, sometimes that need for another person’s touch, for pleasure is even more powerful. Sexual release can take away the sharpness of fear and remind us we’re still alive even if the world makes it seem otherwise.”
“But you aren’t going to make love to me?” she pressed, smoothing her hand over his chest and wishing his skin was bare.
He groaned. “Not because I don’t want to,” he assured her. “Because it isn’t time.”
“When will it be time?” she asked, looking up his body.
He reached up to tangle his fingers through her hair. “When your eyes aren’t glazed with exhaustion. When you are more able to make rational decisions.”
“But if I came to your cottage tonight, for example,” she murmured, sliding her fingers up to trace his lips, “you wouldn’t turn me away?”
He parted those same lips and she felt the heated humidity of his breath. “No, Audrey. I wouldn’t be able to turn you away.” He pressed a kiss to her fingers lightly and then slid out from under her. “For now, though, sleep. You’ve earned it.”
She nodded as she rolled to watch him leave her room. As he opened the door, she said, “Jude?”
He turned back. “Yes?”
“I—” She stopped herself. “Thank you.”
He nodded and then backed from the room. She flopped on her back, throwing an arm over her eyes. Immediately, her relaxed body began to shut down, pushing her toward the sleep that had evaded her for so long. But as the darkness enveloped her, she had a faint recognition that the thanks she had expressed to Jude wasn’t the confession she had original wanted to make.
She had wanted to tell him she loved him.
Chapter Seventeen
Jude stood in the hallway outside the dining room, looking in the mirror that had been mounted above a table. He straightened his cravat carefully as he stared into his own eyes in the reflection.
“God damn it, man,” he muttered. “It isn’t as if you haven’t had supper with this family dozens of times.”
And yet it felt different to do so tonight. Because of the situation with Lady Woodley, of course, but also because of Audrey. He feared that if he sat across from her, everyone would see their connection. His attraction.
And he could not imagine that would go well.
He shook his head at himself and was about to move to enter the room when a voice said his name.
“Mr. Samson?”
He turned to find Audrey’s maid, Ursula, coming down the stairs toward him. He smiled at her, but to his surprise, she did not return the expression.
“What is it?” he asked, his heart immediately lodging in his throat. “Has something happened to Lady Woodley?”
The maid shifted with discomfort. “No, sir. There is no change. Lord Gabriel will be staying with his mother during supper, I have heard. But I-I wondered if I might speak to you alone for a moment?”
Jude couldn’t imagine what the girl had to say to him. Unless she had a message to relay for Audrey. “What about the parlor here?” he offered, motioning to the open door across the hallway.
She nodded and entered the room. He followed and shut the door behind them to give their conversation privacy. When he had, she turned to face him.
“Sir, I-I—” She cut herself off, and Jude started when he realized she was shaking like a leaf. Her face was pale and her eyes wide.
“It’s all right, Ursula,” he said, moving toward her in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Instead, she scurried backward. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She sucked in a breath and seemed to find her bravery. “I know about you and Lady Audrey. I know you have been…been doing something you ought not.”
His eyes went wide. He had not expected that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied when he was able to find his voice. “I have long been a friend to the family and occasionally I am perhaps a bit overly familiar with all the Woodley clan because of that fact. I can see how you could misread—”
“I haven’t misread, Mr. Samson,” she interrupted. “I know what I know.”
He shifted, searching the maid’s face. Indeed, she did look certain. “Did Audrey say something to you?” he asked, no longer denying her charge, but not in any way willing to confirm it, either.
Ursula shook her head. “Of course not. I wouldn’t speak to Lady Audrey about such a thing. It isn’t my place to demand her confession.”
“Just mine,” he said, his tone dry.
She folded her arms. “You are the gentleman in the situation and also the one who is part of the household staff. You should be the one to stop something if it needs to be stopped.”
Jude let out a long sigh and moved to the sideboard to pour himself a tumbler of scotch. He needed the drink now. When he turned back, he motioned to a chair before the fire.
“Why don’t we talk about this, Ursula. Would you like a drink?”
She drew back. “Of course not, sir. That isn’t my place.”
Jude winced. He had a different take on his “place” thanks to his birth and his relationships with the Woodleys. It was only making everything worse.
“Very well. Sit,” he said, using a more stern tone.
She responded to that more than his friendliness and perched on the edge of the chair he had indicated, her backbone straight and her lips pinched.
“Ursula, you have been Audrey’s maid for years. Since before Claire left, since before she came out, yes?”
Ursula nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
“And I can tell by the way you interact with her and the fact that you are willing to confront me that you have affection for Audrey,” he continued, choosing every word with utmost care.
Now the maid narrowed her eyes, as if she didn’t trust his motives in this observation. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I consider myself lucky to have her as my mistress. She is kind, and that is not something every maid gets to say about her employer.”
“Yes, Audrey is very kind. And just like you, I don’t want her to be brought down in Society by rumors or innuendo. So I need you to tell me, right this moment, exactly what you think you know about Audrey and me.”
Her nostrils flared, and for a moment Jude thought she might get up and walk out. Instead she folded her arms. “Fine. I suspected there was something going on with Lady Audrey even before we came here. She has been restless of late, worrying over her sister more and more, uninterested in seeking her husband, as she should be.”
Jude nodded, though the part about Audrey seeking a husband stung considerably. It always had. He feared it always would. “Go on,” he encouraged.
“When we arrived, her attitude changed,” Ursula said. “There was a lightness to her here. At first I thought it was just her being happy to be home. She always loved this estate. But then I realized it was more. She was hiding something.”
“And you think that something is me?” he asked, trying to put laughter into his tone to imply that was ridiculous.
“I know it is you. I saw you two in the parlor one day when it was being redesigned,” Ursula said, fisting her hands in her lap. “I saw you kiss her.”
Jude swallowed hard and barely managed to hold back a curse. He had spent his life trying to exercise control in every way. These slips in that standard with Audrey had been infinitely dangerous. And now he was reaping what he had so imprudently sown.
“Ursula—”
“One morning I came in and found Lady Audrey still in her gown from the night before. She said she’d fallen asleep in it accidentally, but I saw the spark in her eyes.” She blushed. “I didn’t deny her explanation because I hoped she would soon come to her senses. But then when Lady Woodley needed the doc
tor, I went to Lady Audrey’s room to fetch her for her mother and she wasn’t there.”
“Perhaps she was in the library,” he offered, his voice rough. “Or the new parlor.”
Ursula shot him a glare. “I looked everywhere. And when I returned to her room, she had somehow magically appeared, red-faced and out of breath and seemingly already aware of her mother’s condition. Later, the maid who came down to your cottage said she thought you had a woman there with you. The women on staff were tittering about it, wondering about your prowess, but all I could think about was Lady Audrey there with you.”
Jude clenched his jaw. He could spend a great deal of time talking to Ursula about this, trying to convince her that her intuition and analysis of the evidence was wrong. But in the end, she would likely continue to believe exactly what she believed.
“Does anyone else on the staff suspect what you do?” Jude asked.
“No. I think if they did, I would hear about it, being her maid. Everyone is very focused on Lady Woodley and the family being here now. No one else watches Lady Audrey as closely as I do.”
He nodded, relief filling him. “And what do you intend to do with this information?”
She blinked. “Do? What do you mean, do?”
He smiled at her completely genuine confusion. “Some might use this kind of explosive suspicion to further themselves.”
Ursula leapt to her feet with an angry gasp. “How dare you, Mr. Samson? I would never do such a thing! I came to talk to you about this in the hopes of discouraging you from continuing your pursuit of my lady.”
Jude stood up slowly. “Did you?”
She nodded. “I don’t know your intentions, Mr. Samson, but if you care for this family as you say you do, you must see that an affair before marriage, especially with what many would consider a servant, could damage Lady Audrey.”
Jude stiffened, even though Ursula was only saying what he already knew, what he had argued with Audrey herself when she came to him that first night. What Ursula didn’t understand, what Audrey couldn’t, was that he was not capable of resisting. What he felt for Audrey was too strong to deny when he had been offered even just a taste of more.
“I assure you, Ursula, that if Audrey and I were engaged in some kind of affair, my intentions would never be to damage her,” he said quietly, turning away from the maid to stare into the fire. “If things went too far, it would only be for one stolen moment in time, to be forgotten and never discussed.”
She sighed behind him. “Well, that is good. I’m glad you understand.”
He nodded, still watching the flames dance with far more glee than he felt himself. “Oh, trust me, Ursula, I understand better than anyone. You needn’t trouble yourself about Audrey any longer. Anything we may have shared is over now that her family is here.”
Ursula was silent for a moment, and then she said, “Thank you, sir, for hearing me out. I will leave you.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, nodding for her to go. Once she had, he paced to the window to watch the dark night settle over the countryside.
Now that the words had been spoken, he knew they were true. Despite the fact they had not returned to London, he was going to have to change the terms of his arrangement with Audrey. And knowing he would never again taste her lips or feel her skin against his was devastating. Even more so when he realized he would have to sit across from her at supper and know that everything he had ever wanted was coming to an end.
* * *
Audrey stared down the long dining table, past Evan and Mary, to where Jude sat near Edward. He had originally been meant to sit across from her but had declined that place, saying he had something to discuss with her brother.
Jude had not met her eyes nor smiled at her in more than an hour since.
“What do you think, Audrey?”
She blinked and turned her attention to Evan, who had asked the question. “I—well—” She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I wasn’t paying full attention, as I should have been.”
Evan wrinkled his brow. “Were you not? You were so focused on Edward and Samson, I thought for sure you were engaged in our conversation.”
“Just woolgathering,” Audrey said with a hollow smile as she stared down at her plate. Her food remained untouched even as everyone else had nearly cleaned their plates.
“Audrey has earned a little woolgathering after tending to Mama Woodley these past long days,” Mary said, sending Audrey an encouraging smile. “We were just talking about bringing a new doctor in from London if your mother’s fever does not break by morning.”
Evan nodded. “We thought since you were with Dr. Dunbar and Mama for far longer, you might have an opinion about his practices.”
Audrey clenched her napkin in her lap. God, she was focused on her own foolishness, she had ignored conversation about her mother’s care. What a selfish girl she was.
“Dr. Dunbar is adequate,” she said slowly. “But I’m not certain he is forward-thinking enough. Another opinion couldn’t hurt, if he could get here quickly.”
“You know,” Mary offered, “I was speaking to your cook earlier today and she talked about a woman in the village who sometimes acts as healer and midwife. She thought this person might have some additional herbal remedies we could try. She could be here tonight, within the hour, even if we still called for a London physician to assist us.”
Edward smiled at his wife, and there was no doubting his love for her. “I think that is a fine idea.”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Evan agreed as he set his napkin aside. “Because I do not think I can bear watching our mother be bled again. It seems to make her weaker, not stronger.”
Edward nodded. “That settles it.” He motioned to a footman, and the young man stepped over. “It’s Lytle, isn’t it? My wife is going to go with you and give you a missive to take to a villager. Bring her back as soon as possible.”
“Yes, my lord,” the boy said. Mary rose and smiled to the family as she exited the room.
When she had gone, Audrey looked at Jude. He had not spoken during the entire exchange between her and her family. “What do you think, Samson?”
He jerked his head up and stared at her. “You know what is best for your family, of course.”
Edward tilted his head. “But we all value your opinion. You are family, Samson, you know that.”
Jude did not break his stare from Audrey, and she shivered at what she saw in his eyes. Pain. Anger. Resignation to a fate she couldn’t see but didn’t like.
“I am not,” Jude said softly, and now he did turn his attention to her brother. “You know I am not. And I think it is time we stop pretending that I am.” He stood up to prevent whatever words Edward was about to say and gave a low bow to the table. “My lords, my lady, thank you for including me in your supper. I think I shall excuse myself now. I have long neglected my duties and I should get back to them at once.”
“Samson!” Edward said, rising.
Audrey and Evan did the same. Her heart was pounding as she prayed her brother could bring him back. But Jude ignored him and walked from the dining room.
Evan shook his head. “What do you think that was about?”
“He has been odd since our arrival, I fear,” Edward mused. “Audrey, was he different while you were here alone with him?”
She tensed. Different? Oh, how different he had been. Alive and wicked and her lover. But she said none of those things.
“Samson is Samson,” she said with a shrug that dismissed her deep pain at seeing Jude walk away from her family.
“Perhaps he blames himself for Mama’s illness,” Evan suggested. “As he blames himself for Claire’s disappearance. Foolishness both, but his honor will not allow him less.”
Edward frowned. “Yes, perhaps. I will speak to him tomorrow, I suppose. Try to clear the air.”
Audrey nodded. “That would be best, I think,” she said. “Give him some time to gather his senses, clear his h
ead.”
He seemed to ponder that for a moment, but then he shifted to another topic. “I should return to Mama’s side.”
“I will go with you,” Evan said. “Together we can tell Gabriel about our plan to bring a healer in, to minimize the chance that he will argue with you.”
Audrey saw Edward flinch at that statement. The strain between him and their youngest brother was evident. Gabriel still blamed Edward for so much.
“What about you, Audrey?” Evan asked.
She shook her head. “I’ll come for a bit, at least until this healer of Mary’s arrives.”
Edward came along to her side of the table and wrapped an arm around her. “You’ve been a rock, Audrey.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now come.”
She linked her arm with Edward’s and allowed him to lead her from the room. But even as they climbed the stairs, even as she should have been focused entirely on her mother, her mind continued to return to Jude.
And she knew that she was going to have to confront him about his behavior, about things they had left unsaid and unexplained before her mother’s illness intensified. And they were going to have that confrontation tonight.
Chapter Eighteen
Jude sat at the desk in Edward’s office, staring at a line of figures that seemed to blur on forever. If someone had come in that moment and demanded he explain what was before him, he could not have done so for all the gold in London, despite having been sequestered here for several hours.
He had hoped work would give him focus. Instead, he just kept thinking about Audrey. Audrey’s touch, Audrey’s kiss, Audrey’s surrender.
And letting Audrey go.
He clenched his fist against the desk top with a curse just as the office door opened. When he looked up, his heart all but stopped. Standing there, as if she had been conjured by his addled mind, was Audrey.
He pushed to his feet immediately and tried to regain a bit of the composure she had stripped him of the first time their lips had met.
My Favorite Rogue: 8 Wicked, Witty, and Swoon-worthy Heroes Page 121