Page 27 of A Marriage for the Marquess (Barrington’s Brigade #1)
April 27, 1820
J uliet had no difficulty locating the key in the statue of Artemis and unlocking the door. Now, four days after leaving Fairmont Hall, she sat in the dimly lit summerhouse, with the stack of letters to the side, she stroked the diary’s leather cover cool under her fingertips, finally finding the courage to read it. She flipped through the pages, smiling at the familiar handwriting and chuckling at some of the aliases her brother had created for his friends.
“Always so clever,” she murmured, feeling a bittersweet pang of nostalgia.
As she neared the end of the year, her smile faded. The entries did not stop at December 31st. Instead, there were more entries dated this year for the months leading up to his death.
Her heart quickened as she turned the pages, reading Bradley’s words. These entries were different. They were less about daily life and more about his fears and suspicions. He wrote of strange occurrences, and people he thought might be watching him. There were cryptic notes and mentions of the “Order.”
Juliet’s fingers trembled slightly as she read on, piecing together the fragments of Bradley’s final months. Her brother had been in trouble, and she hadn’t known the extent of it. She read on.
“The Rookery and The Gilded Lily,” she read aloud. The names were probably the private residences where the gambling stakes were high and the company secretive. She let her mind dwell on deciphering whose homes these could be and went on. Her finger traced the dates on the calendar, each marked with a list of secret names.
She turned the pages, her pulse quickening as the last four months listed only The Gilded Lily—Fray, Eclipse, Anchor, Key, and Gentry, in attendance. But where Shadow once stood, there was now an angry black spot, a violent scribble obliterating the name. And above it, scrawled in a hand driven by emotion, the word VIPER in all capital letters.
Then there were numbers. They didn’t lie. His winnings had turned to disastrous losses, and while the IOUs payable to VIPER had piled up like autumn leaves, each was crossed out and marked paid in full.
She whispered to the room, “Bradley, what were you thinking?” She gazed at the small black wooden king she perched on the mantelpiece. “Viper. No one can be that fortunate,” she whispered. “He must have been cheating.”
She turned the page and found Bradley’s script tight and hurried. “Arrived early at The Gilded Lily and sat in Viper’s seat, the one that faced the door. No matter where the game was, his chair always faced the door. He was furious. No one wins that often. Must be more than luck.”
With a sudden movement, she snapped the diary shut with a booming thud, the sound slicing through the silence. “You knew there was cheating.” She glared at the wooden king as if Bradley was in front of her. “What were you planning to do?”
A slow moaning of the door hinges shattered the stillness and sent a shock of fear through her. She spun around. Her heart pounded. A silhouette filled the doorway, ominous yet familiar.
He stepped through the doorway, the soft light revealing… “Duncan!” She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “You gave me a fright. How did you find me?”
Duncan’s concerned expression softened, relief in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I took a shortcut through the estate and saw the light from the window. I hoped it was you. Ewan has had everyone in London searching for you these last four days.”
“Here I am.” She opened her arms wide. “Would you like some tea?”
“Ewan keeps something stronger at hand.” He went to the cabinet and retrieved two glasses and a bottle of brandy. “He’s been worried sick about you.” He poured them each a glass.
“I’ve kept this with me,” he handed her a letter, “in case I found you. You dropped it at Barrington’s.”
Juliet took it from him. “And yes, I read it. Whoever this bastard is, I canna wait to get my hands around his throat. He can’t even spell. Ach, all the more reason, Lass for you to—”
“I am sorry I’ve upset you and Ewan, but it cannot be helped.” She put the letter on top of the stack she took from Bradley’s desk. “I’ve always fought my own battles. I am not going to stop now.” She sat, took the filled glass from him, and sipped her drink. “All these months, I thought Bradley had taken his own life.” She glanced at Duncan and his understanding gaze. “When all along he had been murdered. And probably by the man who stole everything from him. This man, Viper, not only took his money, but he also took his life.”
Duncan slowly lowered himself into the seat next to her. “What makes you so certain?”
“Bradley told me.” She smiled at him and took another, bigger sip of the amber liquid. She opened the book and told him about the aliases for the houses and the men with whom he gambled. “We used code names when we were children to prevent anyone from knowing who we spoke about or where we went.”
“Clever,” he smiled.
“I dubbed him Scribe since he kept meticulous details of everything he did and spent. He called me Starling. His reasoning was I talked a great deal.”
“What code names would you give me and Ewan?” He leaned back, swishing the branding in the glass.
“For your strength and warrior appearance, you would be Highlander and Ewan…” She thought a bit. With a smile, she said, “Falcon, for his keen insight and strategic mind. Bradley had other thoughts. He dubbed him the tall yew tree.”
Duncan gave her a wide smile. “Bradley’s secret is safe with me. Although, it is quite fitting. Now, you said your brother gave you the aliases for the location of the games, but where exactly are they? I don’t see how the names can help…” He stared at the smirk that brightened her face. She had the answer.
She scooted closer to the table and pointed to the first name, “The Rookery. Birds. Who do you know that has a bird fascination or collection?”
“Justin Rockwood,” Duncan said. “I see him in the bookshop researching different species.”
“They live on Mayfair Square. Are you certain you’ve never done this before?” she teased.
He chuckled and shook his head.
“The Gilded Lily, the place Bradley attended the night he died, hints a fine gardens,” she said. “Sir Giles has an extensive garden. His residence is on St. James Place. In addition, they were both Bradley’s friends.”
“How very clever.” Duncan browsed through the pages, searching for more coded names. “You two were thick as thieves, eh?” Duncan’s lips twitched into a smile. His Scottish lilt added a warmth to his words.
Juliet chuckled, remembering simpler times. “Oh, we were. Partners in crime and champions of hide-and-seek. Bradley always had the best hiding spots.”
Duncan’s eyes held a distant look as he reminisced. “Ewan and I share a similar history. Our friendship is rooted in more than just shared experiences. It’s woven into our very upbringing. Being the sixth son of Baron Blair meant that my path was never going to be at Blair Castle. In Scotland, that meant I had to carve out my own destiny, for the land and title would pass to my eldest brother.”
He leaned back, his gaze returning to the present. “My mother and Ewan’s, bless them, were as close as sisters, and when it came time, it was Ewan’s parents who opened their home to me. They fostered me and gave me opportunities I might not have had otherwise. That’s why my loyalty to Ewan is unbreakable—it’s built on gratitude and respect as solid as the ancient stones of the highlands.”
A shadow came over Duncan’s expression. “Sebastian was different, though. Two years our junior, he always saw himself as the rightful kin, and me? I was the intruder in his eyes. Ewan and I bonded quickly, thick as thieves, you might say. We tried to include Sebastian, but there was always an edge to him, a sort of… attitude. He played a good game of chess, although he always took unnecessary chances.”
Juliet listened with care, piecing together the nuances of the past that painted a picture of the present. “And Sebastian’s jealousy?”
“It was always there, simmering beneath the surface. Ewan might not have seen it, always giving his cousin the benefit of the doubt, but I did. There were signs, little things that hinted at a deeper resentment. Sebastian was careful, though, and kept it well hidden from Ewan. But not from me.”
Juliet absorbed Duncan’s words, the pieces of a long-unseen puzzle coming into place. The undercurrents of jealousy and rivalry that had always been part of Sebastian’s interactions with Ewan now made chilling sense.
Her eyes softened with understanding. “I never knew the depth of the bond you share with Ewan nor the strength of the ties that bind you both.”
Duncan sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Ewan always knew, deep down, the envy Sebastian harbored. But he chose to overlook it, to discount it as mere family rivalry. He never let it affect their relationship, always hoping for the best.”
He paused, a smile slowly replacing the frustration as he reminisced. “Since we were lads,” Duncan continued, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, the glass in both his hands. “Ewan and I have had our share of capers too. Did he ever tell you about the time we ‘borrowed’ Lord Aurington’s carriage for a midnight escapade?”
Her laughter rang out, clear and bright. “He failed to mention that to me. I can only imagine the mischief you two have managed. It must have been quite the adventure.”
“Aye, well, we were young and daft. But those days forged a bond stronger than the steel of my claymore.” Duncan’s expression softened. “And when Ewan was called to war, I stood by him as his batman. We faced more than our share of narrow escapes.”
Juliet’s eyes widened. “You were with him in the Peninsula?”
“Every step of the way.” He gave her a glance that said he remembered every nuance of what they went through. “That’s where we met Barrington. Now there’s a chess player. Between you and me, I think Ewan’s still trying to best him at chess.”
She couldn’t help but smile. Duncan’s easy grin was infectious. The warmth of the moment pushed back the shadows. “I can imagine them now, hunched over a chessboard, the fate of the empire hanging on the next move.”
Duncan’s amusement filled the space. “Oh, the empire’s safe enough. It’s Ewan’s pride that’s in peril. The man has a rather… spirited aversion to losing.”
Their laughter intertwined into a shared rhythm that warmed the room, drawing them closer into a comfortable friendship.
As the laughter subsided, Duncan’s gaze wandered around the room. His eyes fell upon a small stack of letters on the side table next to him. Absentmindedly, he picked up the top one, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the paper.
“Why don’t you come back to Glenraven Hall with me?” he asked, glancing at the letter without really reading it.
Juliet’s eyes met Duncan’s, a depth of understanding passing between them. “You care for him deeply, perhaps as much as I do. That’s precisely why I cannot do what you ask. If I return now, questions about why we married will linger and cast a shadow over us. He might not think so now, but he is a proud man, a very proud man. Should the slightest doubt that we married for anything less than affection creep into our relationship, it could change us, perhaps, into very different people. I don’t want that, and neither do you.”
Duncan nodded thoughtfully, still holding the letter loosely. A slight furrow appeared on his brow as his gaze flickered back to the page in his hand. “You know him better than I thought. You’re correct.” She stood next to him. “I love him. I realize that more now that we are apart. Nothing would make me happier than to return to Ewan. To earn that right, I must take back what is rightfully my brother’s honor and our family’s good name.”
He returned the letter to the table, his momentary curiosity replaced with a warm smile. “You are not a starling. Lass, you’re a wee warrior,” he said with a smile.