Page 47 of Reforming the Rakish Marquess

As Jude’s father lunged at him again, all Jude could see in his eyes was an overwhelming sense of hatred.

Jude shot up in bed, his eyes searching the room and a single tear running down his left cheek.

“It’s only a dream. Get it together,” he told himself out loud, running his hand down his face.

It had been one of the most vivid dreams he’d had in weeks. His entire body trembled. He needed to ease the burden of his fear and gain control over his thoughts.

Hurrying from the bed, he dressed as quickly as he could. After he donned his clothes and boots, he set off towards his mews, intending to make a late-night call to one of his companions as he had done out of habit countless times over the past year.

Somehow, the notion brought him no comfort, and his stomach twisted in knots. The closer he got to his mews, the more he thought he would cast up his accounts. His heart told him it would be a betrayal to Juliana, which was absurd, since there was no future for them, nor had they made such promises. Not that his heart understood that. His brain knew of such things, but his heart wanted only one woman, and that posed more problems for his life than he wished to consider.

Frustrated, he took to the streets. He’d seek to walk off his nervous energy and clear his head. So he found himself walking the streets of Mayfair in the middle of the night. No one was out, either already home from the evening’s ball or still out enjoying entertainment until sunrise. There wasn’t a single other soul on the street with him.

He lost himself in his thoughts, circling the same couple of blocks a few times, trying to wear himself out so that he might find sleep again. Dreamless that time, he hoped. Although it would take a lot more walking to ease the tension, angst, and sadness that lived within him.

Glancing up from his thoughts, he found himself outside of Juliana’s mews. He stopped and stared at the pathway. Was she asleep? Surely she was. She didn’t expect him to visit that evening, so she’d have no reason to wait up for him. For all he knew, she might have taken up an arrangement with one of the many willing men she had at her disposal.

He stood on the street debating if he should go to her, then bile threatened to rise in his throat and his heart splintered from the mere notion that she might have another man in her chamber at that very moment.

Suddenly, before he knew what was happening an arm slipped around his neck, tightening around his throat.

Chapter Fourteen

He grabbed at the arm, and gave himself enough relief where he could call out for help. Jude elbowed the man in the stomach, sending his attacker falling backwards. There were two others who approached from his left, one holding a knife. He kept his eyes trained on the knife to ensure he blocked if the man should charge at him.

One man attempted to restrain him while the other went for his pockets. Jude hadn’t even brought a watch with him when he left, so they’d be disappointed to learn that his pockets were empty.

“We know you have blunt on you. Hand it over,” one voice growled at him.

Footsteps racing from the direction of Juliana’s mews sounded in the distance.

“I have nothing on me,” Jude said, hoping they would believe him and the situation wouldn’t escalate.

“Liar,” the man holding the knife ground out and lunged towards Jude, slicing through his coat and into his forearm.

Jude fell back, clutching his arm. The man came after him again, and Jude saw the gleam of the blade coming towards him again, and dodged just in time to barely avoid the blade impaling the side of his stomach.

“What are you doing there?” new voices called out.

“Run.” The man with the knife shouted, and the three blackguards dashed away into the night.

Two grooms raced to Jude. “Come with us, my lord. We will get that cut tended to.”

“I am sure it is quite all right,” he said.

“Please, my lord,” one groom said, “you must have this wound tended right away to reduce the risk of infection.”

The men led him towards Juliana’s house. He would let them tend to his arm and then he would leave as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to know if she took on a new arrangement. It would hurt far worse than a hundred cuts from the blackguard’s blade.

They reached the servant’s door leading into the kitchen.

“Sit here, my lord,” one man directed.

He did as the man said and sat at the small table in the kitchen. One man lit a couple of candles while the other gathered supplies and returned.

“You will need to remove your coats, my lord. We need to ensure it is properly cleaned. Perhaps we should summon the doctor.”

“Oh my, what has happened?” The sweetest female voice came from the doorway, followed by her hastened steps until she was standing before Jude. “Jude, who did this?”