A laugh escaped Juliet. “Brilliant and genuine. It is a clever plan.”
“I’ll draft a document to formalize the arrangement.” Hughes glanced at Glenraven and Juliet. “It will state all the terms, of course, and that the benefactor wishes to remain anonymous for personal reasons but is fully committed to supporting Miss Hayward.”
“What shall we tell my mother when she inquires about the plans with my Scottish benefactor? A wedding date? She and Father may be in Scotland now, but they will return.” Her voice carried a hint of mischief. “What should I tell her?”
The suggestion caught Glenraven, Hughes, and Duncan unaware. Their shared look betrayed a momentary lapse. The thought had never crossed their mind. It was evident that such particulars had not escaped Juliet’s keen foresight. While their plan was painted with broad strokes, Juliet had meticulously attended to the finer details that would complete the picture and turn it into a masterpiece.
From the corner of his eye, Glenraven caught Juliet’s almost imperceptible smile. She inhaled deeply, poised with a suggestion. “Perhaps I could tell her he wishes for the wedding to be soon, within the next four weeks, May 17th? That is when she and Father planned to return to London.” she proposed. “We can also mention that he’s a man of solitude, preferring a ceremony that reflects his private nature. He values discretion above all in these matters.” Her eyes sought theirs, silently questioning their consensus. “Would this meet with your plans?”
Ewan felt a surge of admiration for Juliet’s initiative. “That’s a prudent course. It will give your mother peace of mind while preserving the secrecy vital to us.” His voice carried a newfound respect, the admiration clear as he witnessed Juliet’s deft handling of the delicate issue. It was an enlightening moment for him, one that not only provoked pride but also deepenedhis respect… and desire. He saw she possessed all the qualities necessary to stand by his side, whether as his Viscountess, Marchioness, or the Duchess of Aurington.
“One last item. How did this benefactor propose this solution? Was it a chance meeting in Hyde Park?” Juliet’s eyes were wide with a guileless curiosity, a stark contrast to the sharp mind behind her question.
Ewan reclined into the coach seat. He couldn’t suppress a chuckle. His betrothed was indeed a woman of subtly, wit, and wisdom.
“With my mother away, a letter from Aunt Geraldine about the Viscount and his petition might do the trick,” she mused. “A message from someone Mother trusts and holds dear would surely ease her mind.”
Straightening, Ewan’s eyes shone with genuine esteem. “Your ingenuity amazes me.” He looked to his companions, their affirming smiles and nods solidifying their collective decision.
Juliet gently placed her hand on Glenraven’s arm, an unspoken understanding passing between them. “It appears we have a plan, my lord.”
“Yes.” Glenraven’s tone was soft and sincere. “A delicate web of half-truths designed to protect you and keep our secret safe.”
As the carriage approached Lambeth Palace, Juliet’s gaze was drawn to the imposing Tudor gatehouse, its red-brick façade, and ornate Tudor arches a vivid indication of its past. The carriage passed beneath the gate’s shadow, drawing up to the grand steps that led to the towering door, an entryway that promised both welcome and majesty.
Glenraven’s pulse quickened as they stepped into the Archbishop’s office, each man silently bearing the urgency of their mission, yet the unexpected warmth in His Grace’s eyes as he greeted him provided a reassuring counterpoint. Ewan felt aquiet strength settle over him as he crossed the room, ready to put their plan into action.
“Lord Glenraven, I’ve been expecting you as your birthday draws near,” the Archbishop greeted, his voice a gentle rumble.
“Yes, it does, Your Excellency. How kind of you to remember.” Ewan smiled, remembering the archbishop joining him and his family for dinner before he left for France on the eve of his nineteenth birthday.
“I suppose this is not an invitation to a dinner celebration.” His Excellency did enjoy banter… and teasing.
“No, sir, not to dinner but a wedding, with your assistance.”
The Archbishop’s eyes widened for a heartbeat or two before he nodded. “Continue.”
Ewan cleared his throat, steadying himself. “Your Excellency, I come before you to request a special license for marriage.” His words were carefully thought out and deliberate.
“Ah,” the Archbishop turned to Juliet. “It took your intended time to decide. Will it be a grand affair?”
Ewan shook his head. “For reasons most grave, I must ask that this union remains confidential.”
The Archbishop looked over Glenraven and then at Juliet. “There are several reasons that can be grave…”
“Begging your pardon, Your Excellency.” Everyone turned to Juliet, who stood with her hands clasped respectfully in front of her. “Our reasons are like none you have heard before.”
“You’ve come with no one to vouch for you. What am I to think?”
Juliet continued, her demeanor composed. “I stand before you on my own behalf. At twenty-three, my conduct has been such that it would withstand the scrutiny of the highest circles.” Her gaze was steady, her voice unwavering. “I assure you, there is no cause for scandal or concern that would bring dishonor to our names.”
The Archbishop paused, nodded, and made a note on the document in front of him: “Very well, Miss Hayward. Your self-sponsorship is noted. Yet, I require further details.” His gaze shifted to Glenraven: “Pray tell me, what are these reasons that are most grave?”
Glenraven’s hand hovered over the letter, the entire endeavor resting on the Archbishop’s decision. Disclosing the threat to his family was a last resort. “We have reason to believe my father’s recent misfortune was no mere accident.” With a firm hand, he passed the parchment to His Grace.
The Archbishop read it quickly and turned to Juliet with a troubled glance. “Are you fully aware of the danger this union brings?”
Juliet’s gaze was unwavering, her decision etched in her features. “Yes, Your Excellency. I’ve received my own share of ominous threats.” Glenraven couldn’t be prouder of her. Her voice was steady despite the undercurrent of fear. “It appears Lord Glenraven and I are both targets of this person.”
