Page 18 of A Marriage for the Marquess

Glenraven’s smile turned mysterious. “That, Miss Hayward, is a question only the finder of the matching card can answer. But for me, it’s a clue that might lead to justice. There is another explanation of the ace of hearts.”

Juliet stood beside Glenraven. The mention of the Ace of Hearts sent a shiver down her spine. It was not just the night’s chill that startled her but the sudden connection to the card she had found among her brother’s belongings and Lord Glenraven. Her mind raced with questions. Was her brother’s Ace of Hearts part of this shadow quest? Did Glenraven hold the matching card that would lead to answers?

“The ace of hearts is said to be a sign of impending change, love, and emotion.”

Juliet pushed aside thoughts of her brother, the ace of hearts, and her quest. Tonight was not for dark musings or seeking shadows. Tonight was for the unexpected joy she found in Glenraven’s company. She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a lovely innocence.

“Lord Glenraven.” Her voice was steady despite the turmoil. “Tonight has been a gift,” one she didn’t know she needed, echoed in her head. “Let us leave the shadow quest and the ace of hearts for another day.”

Glenraven nodded. “Indeed, Miss Hayward. I couldn’t agree with you more.”

They stepped back into the ballroom together, where the music played. The memory of their almost kiss remained their private secret.

“Juliet, there you are. Good evening, my lord.” Aunt Geraldine approached them with a graceful stride.

Glenraven respectfully inclined his head. “Lady Rosefield.”

He gazed at Juliet, and she saw the same pang of regret in his eyes that she felt in her heart. The easy friendship and peace they had shared on the terrace lingered. “Thank you, Lord Glenraven, for a memorable evening.”

“The honor was mine. Until our paths cross again.” His gaze held hers a moment longer before he stepped away, leaving her in the care of her aunt.

Aunt Geraldine looped her arm through Juliet’s and led her across the ballroom. Juliet’s thoughts were a whirlwind. The image of Glenraven bathed in moonlight was imprinted on her heart and mind.

“My dear Juliet,” Aunt Geraldine began, her voice low but intense. “You’ve certainly caught the eye of one of London’s mostsought-after bachelors. Lord Glenraven’s attention is no small triumph.”

Juliet felt a flutter of pride at her aunt’s words, but it was quickly tempered by the gravity in her tone. “But, my dear, you must tread carefully.” Aunt Geraldine’s gaze was steady and serious. “Do not set your hopes upon this one encounter. Rumors abound that he may soon return to Paris, and the fancies of men are ever changeable, especially so far from home.”

The warning echoed deeply, grounding her soaring spirits. “I understand, Aunt Geraldine. I will remain cautious.” Even as her heart held on to the hope that Glenraven was different, Juliet assured her aunt that what they shared was beyond mere fancy.

As they mingled among the guests, Juliet’s mind was a whirl of emotions—hope, uncertainty, and a daring wish that, despite the rumors, Glenraven’s heart might just be waiting for someone—someone like her.

*

As dawn’s firstlight began to chase away the night, Glenraven arrived at his townhouse, the echoes of the Gladstone ball and the card room still ringing in his ears. Yet, Juliet Hayward dominated his thoughts. In the dimly lit foyer, he paused, a hand on the cool banister, lost in his musings.

“Evenin’ or should I say mornin’,” Duncan greeted him, his voice steady as always. “Was the evening worth the fuss?”

Glenraven offered a half-smile, the memory of the near kiss on the terrace lingering. “The evening was… enlightening. More than I expected.” He let out a heavy sigh as he allowed the image of Juliet to fade. He turned to Duncan. “Have you ever found yourself at a crossroads caught between the expectations of your station and the yearnings of your heart?”

Duncan gazed at his friend with a thoughtful expression. “Aye, that I have. It’s the bane of every man, noble or not.”

Glenraven’s fingers tightened around the banister. “I am to marry for the benefit of the family, yet tonight, I found myself questioning that very path.” He started up the stairs, Duncan beside him.

“Miss Hayward? She’s made you think twice, then?”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Glenraven’s lips. “She’s…remarkable. There’s a fire… Indeed, she is unlike any woman I have ever met.”

Duncan opened Glenraven’s bedroom door and nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “Well, maybe it’s time to follow the fire instead of the cold trail of duty.”

Glenraven undressed, giving Duncan his evening clothes while his friend’s words echoed in his heart. “Maybe you’re right.” Saying the words and coming to that decision was both terrifying and exhilarating. He stood at the bed.

“I’ll be in my room if you think of anything you need or want to discuss.” Duncan quietly left.

Glenraven eased himself onto the mattress, the cool linens a stark contrast to the warm thoughts Juliet brought. He stretched out, his hands behind his head, staring at the canopy overhead. The image of Juliet’s smile lingered, as did her laughter. Was she his future? As sleep began to claim him, his last conscious musings were dedicated to thoughts of her.

Chapter Eleven

April 17, 1820

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