“Oh yes,” her aunt, Caroline replied happily. “To celebrate the new Duke of Graftonshire’s ascension.”
“Oh… I see.” Genevieve had never had any interaction with the previous duke, but she knew his death in a carriage accident had been a terrible one. “There is a new duke?”
“I have heard a lot about it,” Eleanor interjected excitedly. “They say he is of average height, but with broad shoulders that make him quite imposing. His hair is ash blond, and his eyes are a striking shade of green. I have heard he possesses the sort of handsome features that could make any lady’s heart flutter. How very exciting.”
“I see…” Genevieve still was not sure how to take this unexpected news. Not that it would have much of an impact on her life, she supposed.
Eleanor, always the romantic, could not resist adding her own embellishments. “They say he is a true gentleman, Genevieve, with a voice as smooth as honey. Perhaps on the night of the ball, you will have the pleasure of hearing it.”
A faint blush crept in to Genevieve’s cheeks as she tried to suppress a smile. The idea of the Duke’s voice, as described by her cousin, did pique her interest. Though she had her reservations about her future, there was no harm in enjoying a little intrigue at the ball.
Eleanor and her mother, Caroline, engaged in animated conversations about the Duke, their speculations and musings on his charm, which prompted soft laughter from the women. Genevieve could not help but smile at their amusement, her heart warmed by the easy camaraderie between mother and daughter. Although of course it made her miss her own mother too. Would she be alongside the women also gossiping about the duke and how alluring he might be?
But as she forced that smile, refusing to show any sadness that might be swirling within her, an inner restlessness tugged at her, an irresistible pull that drew her attention to the window and the world beyond. The room was alive with excitement, but she could not help feeling a yearning for the boundless adventures that awaited her outside those walls.
The grand ball and the social gatherings of the ton were important, and she understood their significance in her family’s eyes. They were part of the life she had been raised to lead, a life of responsibilities and expectations. But deep down, there was a part of her that longed for something more, something beyond the confines of societal norms. The world was vast, and her grandfather’s letter had shown her a glimpse of the adventures that waited. The vision of hidden treasures was a call that she could not ignore.
After breakfast, when Eleanor and her mother, Lady Caroline, retreated to the drawing room for their embroidery, Genevieve found herself declining their invitation to join. She could not resist the attraction of adventure any longer. The call of the unknown was too powerful to ignore. She would not be able to sit still any longer with the map in her mind.
With haste, she made her way to her bedchamber, where a thick winter cloak and gloves awaited her. The knowledge she had gained from her grandfather’s letter had pointed her towards the Seabrook Ruins, perched on the cliffs of Graftonshire. At least, that was what she had gleaned from the clues so far. She could only hope that she was right. The promise of a hidden treasure and the mysteries that awaited were impossible to resist.
Without pause, Genevieve snuck back through the hallways of her home, hoping not to see anyone, and she stepped outside, greeted by the invigorating chill of the winter air. Her heart raced as she was filled with excitement and anticipation. She could not help but feel a sense of exhilaration as she began to make her way towards the ruins.
However, as she ventured further from the safety of her family’s estate, a familiar voice called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. It was Harry whose concerned gaze met hers. He had become protective and caring of Genevieve, especially since their mother’s death and the accident that had left him with a limp. The older her grew up, the more protective over her he became. They had become mutual pillars of support in each other’s lives.
His suspicion was evident as he looked at Genevieve, guessing her intentions. With a firm but gentle tone, he started. “Genevieve, you can not embark on this adventure alone. It would be improper, and I worry for your safety. Let me accompany you, as a brother should. We shall face the unknown together, just as we discussed in the library. This is not something that Mother would wish for you to do alone, you know that.”
Genevieve, torn between her desire for independence and her love for her brother, hesitated for a moment. She knew that Harry’s presence would bring a sense of security, and his company was a comfort she could not deny. With a reluctant but appreciative smile, she nodded in agreement. He was right, their mother would have wanted this to be something that they did together, to bring them closer. Family was so very important to her.
“Very well, Harry,” she said, “we shall embark on this adventure together, as we always have. But remember, this journey is not without its dangers and uncertainties. We must be cautious and prepared for the unknown.”
“I know as much.” Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. “That is why I wish to come with you. It might be treacherous, but I am sure it shall also be fun.”
As Genevieve and Harry walked towards the Seabrook Ruins, her heart was heavy with concern. She could not help but observe her brother’s pace faltering, his limp growing more noticeable with each step. Guilt washed over her like a relentless tide, threatening to engulf her. The weight of her brother’s struggles, potentially exacerbated by her quest for adventure, pierced her heart. She did not ever wish to be the person who caused himmorepain. She knew that she had done enough.
Unable to bear the thought of Harry’s discomfort, she came to a halt and turned to face him. The unspoken tension between them was palpable, and their eyes met in a silent stand off. The determination in Genevieve’s gaze was matched by Harry’s reluctance to concede. He seemed to already know what she was going to say, which meant she was likely correct in saying it. He did not like taking care of himself when it affected other people, even if that other person was his very own sister.
“Harry,” she implored, her voice filled with a mixture of love and concern. “You should rest. Your comfort is of utmost importance to me. There is a rock just there,” she said, pointing to a nearby boulder. “Please, sit down and catch your breath. Just for a few minutes.”
“I do not wish to slow you down. That is not why I came with you.”
“I will rest with you,” Genevieve insisted. “I am tired also. We can take a moment to sit down, and maybe look over the map some more.”
Harry grew impatient with his sister, likely caused by the pain he was feeling. “Would it not make more sense to view the map once we arrive? I do not see the point in wasting time looking at it now when we are not too far away.”
But Genevieve could also be stubborn. She was not going to allow this to continue. “I am resting. You do whatever you wish, but I would like to see the map and the clues here. I refuse to take another step until I have done so.
Reluctantly, and because she left him no choice in the matter, Harry finally conceded to Genevieve’s wishes. He sighed and moved toward the indicated rock, his eyes lingering on his sister. Genevieve watched him closely, her heart heavy with the magnitude of her mission and the weight of how this might impact Harry. She wanted it be to something fun that they shared, not something that made his life any harder than it already was. That was the last thing she wanted.
As Harry settled on the rock and leaned against it, Genevieve could not help but feel a mixture of gratitude for his presence and guilt for the burdens he bore. She knew that her quest for adventure had the potential to make his struggles more pronounced, and that thought weighed heavily on her.
Would this be worth it in the end? Or was she about to make everything so much worse?
CHAPTER 4
During breakfast, the air was thick with Agatha’s palpable enthusiasm as she regaled the family with tales of the Duke and Duchess of Cavendale, who were soon to be guests at the grand ball being held in Jonathan’s honor. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spoke.
“Oh, the Cavendales are truly a splendid family,” Agatha continued, her voice filled with admiration. “The Duke and Duchess have always been such dear friends of ours, and their daughter, Lady Isabella, is a vision of grace and beauty. She’s not only charming but also well educated, and her demeanour is truly befitting of a lady of her stature.”
