“Indeed, she is.” Glenraven smiled at the very thought of her.
“Shall we venture into the card room? I believe it’s time you reacquainted yourself with the old guard.”
With a nod and the vision of Miss Hayward vanishing, Glenraven followed Barrington.
They entered a room alive with the jingle of coins and the rustle of cards. Familiar faces sat around the table, each absorbed in their game of chance—whist, loo, and faro.
“Seems to be a harmless enough assembly tonight,” Barrington remarked, observing the players. “No fortunes lost as of yet, I presume?”
Glenraven leaned against the wall, his arms folded as he observed. “Indeed, it appears to be a friendly game this evening, Though I suspect the night is still young.” They studied the game in silence. The tension in the room was apparent, even with the absence of high stakes. Glenraven’s gaze drifted, not quite capturing the thrill of the play as his thoughts lingered on Miss Hayward’s last smile before she departed the library.
Barrington nudged him gently. “You seem distant, my friend. Perhaps the fresh air on the terrace would clear your mind?”
Glenraven pushed off the wall, left the card room, and stepped into the cool night.
He found her there, gazing at the moonlit gardens below. “Miss Hayward, you’ve stolen my idea.” He joined her by the balustrade.
She turned to him, a soft smile on her lips. “It seems we are of one mind tonight, Lord Glenraven.”
Chapter Ten
Juliet’s heart racedas she stood with Glenraven on the terrace, the night air cool against her skin. His nearness was both exhilarating and unnerving. Glancing at the sky and its expanse, her mind toyed with infinite possibilities. With a breath, she found the courage to voice a question about her hidden desires. “Do you ever dream of a different life, Lord Glenraven?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. It betrayed her longing for a world beyond her family’s misfortunes and her duty.
He didn’t respond, and she followed his gaze that had drifted to the distant garden wall and wondered what he was thinking.
“Often,” he admitted, at last, his eyes returning to meet hers. His voice carried a rare note of vulnerability that resonated with her hidden yearnings. “I dream of a life where my choices are guided by passion rather than obligation. A life filled with the pursuit of knowledge, the joy of discovery, and perhaps,” a playful spark ignited in his eyes, “a touch of adventure in far-off lands.”
Juliet smiled at his last remark. She listened, captivated by the way his words echoed her dreams. The earnestness in his voice had her heart fluttering at the thought of such a life where she would be free to explore the depths of her passions alongside someone who understood her.
She stared into his eyes, and a silent understanding passed between them, a shared yearning for a life without the expectations that came with rank or obligation. The feelingspanned beyond the terrace, beyond the night. It was as if he had uncovered her secret wishes—a life where a person could be true to their own heart.
“And you, Miss Hayward?” Glenraven inquired, turning the question to her. “What life do you dream of?”
“A life where laughter is plentiful, and love is the measure of wealth.” Those were her innermost desires. As she spoke, her gaze never wavered from his, and she saw a reflection of her dreams in the depths of his eyes. “Where every day is a canvas to be painted with the bright colors of joy and the quiet shades of contentment.”
In the silence that followed, Glenraven stepped closer, his presence wrapping her in a warmth she hadn’t expected but, oh, so greatly enjoyed. The terrace, the stars above, and the distant sounds of the gala—all faded into the background as the moment between them deepened into something intense and intimate.
Glenraven’s hand rose, almost of its own accord, and gently cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin with the softest touch. Their eyes locked, and Juliet’s heart pounded with anticipation, as well as a healthy dose of trepidation.
Time seemed to stand still. Glenraven leaned in, his intentions clear in his half-lidded gaze. Juliet’s eyes fluttered closed, her body instinctively tilting towards his, her lips parting slightly in a silent invitation.
Her breath hitched as she moved closer to him, drawn by a force she couldn’t resist. Their faces were inches apart. The warmth of his breath caressed hers, a tender prelude to a kiss that hovered just out of reach.
But then, laughter spilled from the ballroom, shattering the intimate spell. Juliet stepped back, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “We should return.” Though every fiber of her being screamed to stay.
Glenraven nodded, the regret in his eyes mirroring her own. “Yes, we mustn’t forget ourselves.” As they stood in silence, savoring the moment, a sudden cheer erupted from the open window of the card room. The celebration broke the quiet, drawing their attention to the world inside.
Glenraven glanced toward the source of the commotion, a wry smile forming on his lips. “It seems someone has had a stroke of luck.” His gaze returned to Juliet.
“The ace of hearts, perhaps,” she uttered impulsively, the words escaping her lips before she could give them any thought. The image of the ace of hearts among her brother’s belongings had flashed in front of her.
Glenraven’s eyes met hers, a spark of intrigue in their depths. “Are you familiar with the game? A bit of a legend my father shared with me. The shadow quest.”
Juliet leaned in, intrigued. “A shadow quest? What is that?”
“It’s a game of sorts, a mystery that involves the ace of hearts,” Glenraven explained, his voice low. “The card is said to be hidden somewhere in the city along with three others. Finding the cards leads to a hidden secret.”
Juliet’s eyes widened with interest. “And what does one do if they find this ace of hearts?”