The butler’s reply was prompt, though with a hint of confusion. “A tradeswoman, my lord. I directed her to the servant’s entrance,” the butler replied promptly, a hint of confusion in his voice.
Sitting comfortably with his parents having tea, Ewan caught Barrington’s curious look. “Tradespeople know their place. Are you expecting a delivery?” Ewan asked his host.
Before Barrington could respond, Duncan stood decisively. “I’ll see what this is about,” he announced, striding out of the room.
Moments later, Duncan returned, escorting a cloaked figure whose bearing struck a chord of familiarity in Ewan. He rose swiftly, a mix of concern and recognition in his eyes. “What’s the matter? What brings you here?” he asked, moving closer to the mysterious visitor.
As the woman faced him, her hat slipped away, unveiling Juliet’s unwavering expression. “Thank goodness you are here. Ewan, I’m here on an urgent matter. I need to speak with you,” she whispered, her plea barely audible yet laden with importance.
Lord and Lady Aurington looked on, bewildered by their son’s alarm at the appearance of a seemingly ordinary woman. “Ewan, who is this?” his mother’s hand paused mid-gesture, her teacup forgotten.
A smile threatened to break through Ewan’s composed facade as he assisted Juliet out of the cloak and bonnet. Together, they faced his parents, “Mother, Father, please meet Juliet Hayward—my wife, the Marchioness Glenraven.” His voice was filled with a touch of pride.
The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by Lord Aurington’s chuckle. “Well, that’s a surprise worth waiting for!”
Chapter Twenty-Five
April 23, 1820 Late Afternoon
The drawing roomfell still, like the silence following a sudden thunderclap. The grandfather clock ticking a solitary sound amidst the quiet.
Lord Aurington’s chuckle, still warm with humor, softened into a smile of realization as he stared at Juliet for several heartbeats. “Bradley’s sister, is it? He was a fine young man, full of life, not one to… well, it’s a tragedy indeed. The lad was always so guarded about his private life, a stark contrast to his… let’s say, more exuberant social endeavors. We all felt for the lad’s untimely passing.” He let out a deep breath and glanced at Juliet. “We are, indeed, sorry for your loss.”
Ewan met his father’s gaze with a solemn nod, drawing strength from Juliet beside him. “Father, the circumstances surrounding Bradley’s death are complex, with hidden truths yet to be uncovered. Juliet and her family have been through a great ordeal since his passing,” his voice carrying a gravity that matched the seriousness of his words. “Our marriage is a mutual decision, borne out of necessity and understanding, protecting her family and ensuring our safety.”
Lord and Lady Aurington exchanged a glance, as the revelation of a marriage of convenience settled over them. Lady Aurington’s hand found her husband’s, their fingers intertwining in a wordless gesture of solidarity.
Lady Aurington nodded, her eyes softening as she looked at Juliet. “My dear, life presents us with many challenges, and we must face them as best we can. If your marriage brings stability and happiness to you both, then you shall have our blessing.” She glanced at her husband with a knowing look in her eyes. “Love blooms in many ways, but often the most enduring love is that which grows from friendship.”
“Such arrangements as yours are not unheard of,” Lord Aurington finally said. “It is not for us to judge. You, indeed, have our blessing.”
Comforted by his parent’s support, he noted the subtle shift in Juliet’s stand as the tension appeared to drain from her shoulders. His parents’ acceptance was not just a formality. They genuinely welcomed Juliet into the Aurington family, and for that, he and Juliet were grateful.
Juliet had allowed him to assist her with her cloak. However, when Ewan reached out to take the forgotten basket out of Juliet’s hands, she drew it back firmly and gently pushed his hand away. In the process, a note slipped out and fluttered to the floor.
“No, Ewan. It is one of the reasons why I am here.” She fished out a small, worn box. “This contains what was in Bradley’s possession when we found him.”
Juliet opened the box and revealed the items. On top was the single playing card, the ace of hearts.
Lord Aurington’s hand shot out, plucking the card from the box with a sudden sharp intake of breath.
Ewan’s attention was drawn to a fine leather glove with a distinctive monogram under the card. He removed the glove and at once saw that it bore the initials ‘S.M.’ intricately stitched over a small, embroidered raven, a symbol that Sebastian had made his own. He stared at it for several long heartbeats.
“Juliet,” he glanced at her, a crease forming between his brows. “Where was this glove found?”
Juliet’s eyes met Ewan’s with a flicker of sorrow as she recounted the grim discovery. “It was under Bradley.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Mr. Wilcox found the leather glove pressed into the earth beneath him, in the garden where he…” Juliet took a deep, steadying breath, lifting her chin with a resilience that belied the turmoil within. “We must find the truth behind this, for Bradley’s sake and our own,” she declared, her resolve firming like steel.
Ewan stepped closer, gently cupping her cheek in a comforting caress. “And we shall.” His touch conveyed the support and solidarity that words alone could not.
With a lingering touch to Juliet’s cheek, Ewan’s expression hardened as he turned his attention to the glove in his other hand. The scent of woodsy cologne wafted from the leather, igniting a spark of recognition. “This belongs to Sebastian Morgrave.” His disbelief quickly turned to understanding. “The raven, his chosen emblem, it’s all too fitting. He thinks himself wise when he is really dark, cunning, and ominous.”
Lord Aurington looked up, he glanced at Barrington then his gaze met Ewan’s. “Sebastian’s glove, in Bradley’s possession? The raven, the Order of Shadows. And this card…” He flipped it over. “Order of Shadows. What game is this?”
Ewan’s mind raced as he pieced together the implications. “A game that ended in tragedy.”
Juliet’s breath hitched, her mind reeling with the implications. “Sebastian Morgrave?” she echoed, her voice barely audible. “Then… then the marriage settlement he claims to have…”
Ewan swung her around. “What marriage settlement?” The room went quiet.
