“Yes,” Aurington looked at Ewan and was breathing hard. “But he also wanted the property your family owns on Chapel Street and Lowndes Place.” He glanced at Ewan and waited for him to respond.
“Why that’s…Do you mean the property behind Aurington Hall?” Sebastian’s intent dawned on Ewan. “Sebastian wanted to own the Fairmont Property adjacent to Aurington Hall ever since he was a boy. He would brag about how one day it would all be his.”
Lord Aurington, still holding the ace of hearts, raised it for all to see. “This card… it’s a taunt, using my mark as if it was already his.”
Ewan pondered the pattern of the aces, finding it as puzzling as the complex chess move, the King’s Gambit—a daring ploy that risked everything for the promise of a greater victory. Just as in the gambit, where White offers a pawn to gain control, the shadow quest seemed to lure its players into a trap, sacrificing them one by one for a grander scheme.
“The final ace,” Ewan mused, “must be the key to the gambit, the piece that completes the attack. It’s hidden, yet pivotal, much like the move after the pawn sacrifice, leading to a fierce battle for dominance.”
Ewan saw the parallel—the last ace of hearts was not just another card. The last ace of hearts was the move that would expose the true orchestrator of this deadly game. And perhaps, it was hidden in plain sight, waiting for the right player to make the decisive move.
“Come, dear,” Lady Aurington rose and reached out to her husband. “We’ve imposed on Lord Barrington’s hospitality long enough. Besides, you no longer have the luxury of lingering as an invalid. You’re needed. It will be very interesting to see what Morgrave does when we announce and celebrate Ewan and Juliet’s marriage.”
“Mother,” Ewan glanced at Juliet and caught the flicker of panic in her gaze. “We cannot—”
Lady Aurington’s voice carried the finality of a gavel’s fall. “We shall make our stand at Aurington Hall come the first of May. Let’s see what Morgrave does.” Her gaze swept over Ewan, pride and challenge mingling in her eyes. “You, Ewan James Alasdair Glenraven, have never been one to avoid a battle. Do what you do best.”
With a nod of agreement, Lord Aurington stood, his smile broad and defiant. “I’m glad you’ve returned, Ewan.” A smile of quiet rebellion played on his lips. He extended his arm to Lady Aurington. “Come, dear. It’s time for us to go home.”
Before his departure, Lord Aurington handed Ewan a slender folio he had brought to Barrington’s home for safekeeping. “These pages do not hold all of our family’s history. But inside, you’ll find everything related to the gambling scheme and its entanglements with our name. It’s important that you add the new evidence we’ve uncovered. It may very well unravel Morgrave’s plot,” he glanced at Juliet, “and clear your wife’s family’s honor. And son, your mother didn’t tell you the entire truth when you arrived. While I argued otherwise, there were some who truly believed my life was in jeopardy—not from theaccident itself, but from the person who orchestrated it,” With those parting words, Lord Aurington rejoined his wife.
Barrington and Ewan glanced through the folio. “Barrington.” Ewan’s voice betrayed a hint of trepidation, “I’ve found something.” He handed the man a stack of letters, their seals broken, the handwriting elegant but hurried. “These were among my father’s papers—correspondence with several known gamblers, including some we’ve suspected.”
Barrington’s eyes flicked across the page, absorbing the words that wove a narrative far more intricate than they had imagined. He met Ewan’s gaze, a silent question hanging between them.
Ewan continued, “It seems our suspicions barely scratched the surface. There’s a network, the Order of Shadows, and it’s entangled with not only our family’s legacy but others as well. This goes more deeply than I feared.”
Barrington glanced at Ewan. “There is a great deal going on here. I agree with your mother. The time has come to draw Morgrave out.” He stood and nodded to Juliet. “Congratulations, Lady Glenraven. I’m looking forward to the big birthday celebration. Please excuse me. Based on what I’ve seen here, I have matters to attend to.”
As the room emptied, Juliet felt the graveness of the situation. She turned to Ewan and hesitated a moment. “I’m not certain that announcing our marriage is the best course of action.”
Ewan, absorbed in his notes, barely glanced up. “It will be all right,” he assured her absentmindedly.
She picked up the monogrammed glove and put it in the box with the ace of hearts and Bradley’s other effects.
She bit her lip, her mind racing with potential consequences. “No. I disagree,” she shook her head. “Morgrave has gone too farto turn back now. He can almost taste victory, and it’s blinded him.”
Ewan was absorbed in a leather-bound folio, its contents strewn across the mahogany desk. The pages contained family records and confidential correspondence, each a step deeper into the maze of intrigue surrounding his family.
Juliet watched from the doorway, a pang of exclusion tightening in her chest as she observed Ewan’s unwavering dedication to the task.
Juliet quietly slipped away with both Mrs. Murthy’s cloak and basket. Her departure went unnoticed in the commotion of plans and strategies.
Hours later, Barrington re-entered the room and glanced around. “Where’s Juliet? I thought she’d be with you for tea. Have you lost your wife so soon?” he teased with a light chuckle.
The words hung in the air as Ewan’s gaze swept the room, the papers in his hand forgotten. A sense of unease settled over him and grew heavier as he noted the empty chair where her cloak and basket had been. “She was just here…” he murmured, the sinking feeling in his stomach intensifying. He glanced at his friend.
Barrington summoned his butler with a sense of urgency.
“Mr. Sanderson. Have you seen Lady Glenraven?”
“She left several hours ago. I inquired if she would like the carriage, but she said she preferred to walk.”
Ewan was already gathering his things, his heart racing with worry.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Juliet stood atthe threshold of Bradley’s room and took a deep breath to steady herself before she stepped inside. The air was thick with the dust of disuse, and the silence seemed to hold its breath. A faint, unfamiliar scent teased her senses, almost as if the room itself held onto the memory of its occupant. She hadn’t entered his room since…his death. She closed her eyes, fighting against the overwhelming tug that wanted to bring her back to that day. Letting out a breath, she stepped inside.
