The puppet master stepped forward. “Oh, my dear friends, this conclusion has been special. Please, Judy and Punch, come out so we can properly thank you.”
The curtain on the left side of the puppet stage parted, and a young woman emerged as Glenraven came out through the drape on the right side.
“Miss Juliet Hayward, you were a wonderful Judy. You are welcome to join our traveling show anytime you like,” the puppet master said.
She turned to thank the puppeteer, but her gaze met Glenraven’s, causing her to pause.
“Lord Glenraven, thank you again for an interesting reading.” Glenraven nodded to the puppeteer and tipped his hat to Miss Hayward, no, Juliet. That is how he would remember her.
“Fare thee well, my dearest. Parting is such sweet sorrow.” Glenraven lifted Juliet’s hand and kissed her knuckles, mischief in his eyes.
*
Juliet felt theinvitation in his smile and couldn’t help but respond with a mischievous smile of her own. “I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.” She tried to suppress a smile but lost the battle.
Glenraven escorted her away from the puppet stage. A bump from a passerby caused a small cloud of dust to erupt from his coat. He tipped his hat to the culprit. “Cousin?” The man had already walked on.
“Have you been traveling, my lord?” She glanced behind them at the small cloud from his coat.
“You found me out. I’ve been abroad. Traveling has its demands, but it is good to be back in London, especially on a day as delightful as today.” They stopped at a fork in the pathway. “Regrettably, I must go or be late for an appointment.”
She struggled to quickly prevent any shadow of disappointment from passing over her face. Juliet did not believe him. He made no effort to move rapidly through the small thirty-minute performance.
Silly woman. It was a performance. Nothing more. Although, for a moment, it felt so…
“Well then, Punch, off with you,” she said with a wave, not giving him a chance to explain himself. “Till it be morrow.” She laughed. “You are a good sport, my lord. Mr. Thimbleby approached me in much the same manner as he did you. Thank you for a lovely afternoon diversion.” She turned to leave but hesitated. “I do look forward to our next performance.”
*
Her laughter waslight and tinkled. He followed her progress as she made her way and was swallowed up by the crowd. He chuckled and shook his head. His step was lighter, and his head filled with thoughts of Punch and Judy as he headed to Barrington Hall. The banter between him and ‘Judy’ was indeed enjoyable, and she responded to Shakespeare’s quote quite nicely. Her quick wit made sparring with her quite enjoyable.
Hayward? He didn’t know the name. He made a mental note to ask his father. The man knew everyone in London. She was a beauty with chestnut hair that shimmered in the sunlight and deep hazel eyes filled with mischief. And passion. A smilebroadened on his face. Yes, he would like to see them filled with passion.
The thought struck a chord with him. He wasn’t some rogue to get excited over a woman’s appearance, but there was something appealing about Miss Juliet Hayward that had nothing to do with her slender body or appealing good looks. He let out a sigh. It was, indeed, a lovely way to spend thirty minutes.
Chapter Two
He turned downGrosvenor Square. Barrington Hall was a few steps away.
Glenraven approached the door, raised the brass door knocker, and let it drop. Within moments, the door opened.
“Good afternoon, Lord Glenraven. It is good to see you.”
“Good afternoon, Sanderson.” Glenraven entered the spacious foyer. The floor was a smooth, glossy chessboard of large black and white marble tiles. To the left of the entrance was a marble fireplace with an oversized gilt-framed picture of the Barrington country estate in Sommer-by-the-Sea. To the right of the entrance was a mahogany console table with a large gilt mirror above it.
Deep green damask wallpaper covered the walls, its subtle pattern lending an understated elegance. The centerpiece of the foyer was an imposing curved staircase with railings crafted from polished mahogany. Tucked into the curve of the stairs was a round mahogany table with a porcelain bowl filled with fresh flowers.
The corridor to the rest of the house was to the right of the grand staircase.
He gave the butler his hat and coat. He couldn’t help but spot Sanderson holding his coat at arm’s length.
“I came directly from Dover,” he said, explaining his dust-covered garment. For a moment, he saw Juliet’s expression when she saw his coat and tried not to smile.
“Lord Barrington is expecting you in his study.”
Glenraven crossed the foyer, went down the corridor, and entered the first door on the right, Barrington’s study.
Mahogany carvings, intricate as the strategies once studied for war, adorned the buttercream walls. Polished mahogany bookshelves lined each wall with volumes of military history and classic literature but stopped short of the lofty ten-foot ceilings. In the generous space above, a gallery of painted landscapes offered windows to the serene countryside, reminiscent of the peace Lord Barrington sought after the tumult of the Peninsula War.
