Page 29 of A Marriage for the Marquess (Barrington’s Brigade #1)

D uncan’s steps were heavy as he made his way back to Aurington Hall, the secret of Juliet’s whereabouts trapping him like a suit of armor. He had given his word to keep her safe, to honor her request for silence, but the thought of Ewan, his friend and brother in arms, unaware and searching for her, festered like an open wound.

He found Ewan in the same position as Juliet, in the midst of planning, with maps and papers strewn across the table, all to find her. The sight of his friend so consumed with worry struck a chord in Duncan’s heart.

Duncan stood by Ewan, his friend’s distress etched in the lines of his face and the urgency of his movements. The sight stirred something within Duncan—a sense of duty that transcended his promise to Juliet.

“Ewan,” Duncan began, his voice steady despite the turmoil within, “I must speak with you.”

Ewan paused, his eyes meeting Duncan’s. “What is it?”

“I know where Juliet is,” Duncan confessed, his words hanging in the air like a storm cloud, heavy with unspoken consequences. Ewan’s eyes widened with relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing for a brief moment.

“Where is she?” Ewan demanded, the edge of desperation in his voice.

Duncan’s face hardened with resolve. “I can’t tell you that.”

The relief drained from Ewan’s face, replaced by a fiery anger. He stepped closer, his fists clenching at his sides. “You can’t tell me? She’s my wife! I have a right to know where she is.”

“I swore an oath to her. I feared if I didn’t, she would leave, and we’d never find her,” Duncan replied, his voice steady but his eyes revealing his conflict. “She’s frightened, Ewan. Frightened for you.”

Relief washed over Ewan, knowing Juliet was safe, but it warred with a surge of betrayal. How could Duncan, his most trusted friend, have kept Juliet from him? The air crackled with tension, like a storm about to break, as they faced each man locked in a silent battle of wills.

“You knew all along,” Ewan’s voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried the devastation of a deep trust coming undone. “How could you?” The betrayal stung, not just because of the secret kept from him, but because it came from Duncan, his most trusted confidant.

Duncan stood his ground, his loyalty to Juliet clashing with his fealty to Ewan. “I found her today. I had to protect her, Ewan. You know I—”

“No!” Ewan’s shout cut through the tension. He advanced on Duncan, his hands clenched at his sides. “You had no right!”

The tension between Ewan and Duncan was clear and undeniable, a reflection of their long-standing camaraderie now strained by recent events. Ewan’s hand shot out, grabbing Duncan by the collar, pulling him close. “Best for who, Duncan? For Juliet? For you? What about me?”

The question hung between them, heavy with implications. Duncan’s eyes never left Ewan’s, his own conflict evident. “For all of us, Ewan. For all of us.”

Ewan’s grip tightened, his other hand raised, poised to strike. But as he looked into Duncan’s eyes, he saw not defiance but an unwavering commitment. With a ragged breath, Ewan released him, his arm dropping to his side.

“I trusted you.” The hurt in Ewan’s voice was more impactful than any physical blow could be.

Duncan straightened his collar, his voice soft. “And you can still trust me, Ewan. To protect her, to protect you, to protect the family you’re building.”

He paused, his gaze shifting to the floor for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. His jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, clearly weighing his next words carefully.

He paused, his gaze flickering as if weighing the consequences. Then, with a firm nod, he decided. “There’s something else you need to know. It’s about the anonymous letters you and Juliet have been receiving.”

Ewan’s eyes narrowed, a mix of confusion and apprehension. “What about them?”

“I’ve discovered who has been sending them,” Duncan revealed. “It’s Sebastian.”

Ewan’s expression shifted to disbelief. “Sebastian? How can you be certain?”

A wry smile lit Duncan’s face. “Aside from his handwriting matching a letter he sent to Juliet’s family offering condolences for their son’s loss, the bastard can’t spell. He consistently misspells ‘unbearable’ as ‘unbareable’—in both the anonymous threats and his own letters.”

Ewan stared at him, the weight of the revelation sinking in. “He’s been behind this all along,” he muttered, anger and realization mingling in his eyes. he turned away, his anger spent, replaced by an aching sense of betrayal. “Just… make sure she’s safe, Duncan. That’s all I ask.”

A fragile truce hung between them, the understanding clear and yet fraught with unspoken fears. They were in uncharted waters, but their course was set—to protect Juliet, no matter the cost.

As Ewan’s anger subsided, the memories of Paris crept into his mind—the assignment that had ended in tragedy, the life he couldn’t save. It was a failure that haunted him, a shadow that loomed over his every decision. Now, faced with the possible loss of Juliet, the fear of failing her as he had failed before was unbearable.

“I cannot fail her, Duncan. Not like I did in Paris,” Ewan confessed, his voice breaking with the admission.

Duncan’s hand found Ewan’s shoulder. “You won’t, Ewan. We won’t let that happen.”

*

The carriage wheels crunched on the gravel as it rolled to a stop before Sir Giles’ grand estate. Juliet’s heart was a drumbeat in her chest, a mix of anticipation and nerves for the card game she expected to witness—and unravel. Aunt Geraldine patted her hand reassuringly as they stepped out into the cool evening air.

“Thank you ever so much for extending your hospitality at such short notice,” Aunt Geraldine nodded with a gracious smile. Her words struck the correct note of gratitude to Lady Giles, who greeted them with open arms. “My niece and I are most grateful.”

Lady Giles welcomed them with an unaffected warmth. “It’s our pleasure, Lady Rosefield. We’re always delighted to have new company.” Her smile was a beacon of genuine friendship.

As they entered the parlor, the expected sounds of shuffling cards and hushed wagers were conspicuously absent. Instead, a small gathering of guests mingled quietly.

Juliet’s pulse quickened with disappointment. “I thought there was to be a game tonight,” she whispered to Duncan, who had accompanied them as a silent guardian.

Duncan’s sharp and assessing eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene. “It seems plans have changed,” he murmured back.

Juliet excused herself with a polite nod to Aunt Geraldine and made her way to the card room. As she moved through the crowd, the mingled scents of perfumes and fresh flowers enveloped her. Suddenly, a sharp aroma cut through the sweetness—a peculiar blend of lemon’s crispness entwined with the smoky undertone of extinguished embers. She paused, the unfamiliar scent sending a faint chill down her spine, though she couldn’t quite place why.

Reaching the card room, the door opened to reveal a room shrouded in shadows, save for the flicker of a lone sconce.

Juliet’s eyes swept across the room, landing on the card table in the center of the room. It stood abandoned, an island of green baize in a sea of uncertainty.

“Seems we’re too late,” Geraldine murmured, disappointment filling her words.

“Not necessarily,” Juliet replied, her gaze fixed on the table. Her fingers searched under the table for any sign of trickery, but the smooth underside offered no secrets. The green baize of the table was unremarkable, untouched by hidden devices or marks. She moved from chair to chair, her eyes sharp, her mind racing to uncover the slightest clue.

Juliet sank into the chair that faced the door. She had been so certain she would see how he ensnared his victims, but her efforts were all in vain. Ready to claim defeat, a flicker of the candle caught her attention. The mirror behind the sconce revealed the back of a chair and the table in front of it. She went to the door and motioned to Duncan.

He slipped into the room with her.

“Sit here, please.” She showed him to the Viper’s chair, and then she sat in the chair in front of the candle, took her calling card out, and held it as if it were a playing card.

“Look at the mirror behind the candle and tell me what you see.”

She followed Duncan’s gaze as he glanced at the candle, but when he focused on the mirror, he nearly jumped out of his seat. She rose and lit each candle then sat in the seat in front of each one. Duncan nodded. He could see her calling card in the mirror.

“I found it—a subtle vantage point from each seat, a cheater’s paradise.”

Juliet’s fingers trailed along the edge and brushed against a small, uneven section. Her curiosity piqued, she pressed gently, and a hidden drawer popped open with a soft click.

Inside lay a stack of papers. Juliet’s heart quickened as she scanned the records, recognizing the handwriting that had doctored the figures—it wasn’t Sebastian’s.

Duncan leaned over her shoulder, his eyes narrowing. His keen eye for detail caught the irregularity as he sifted through the papers. “Look here,” he said, his finger tracing a column of numbers. “The sums don’t add up. These tallies are off—someone’s been altering the records to skew the winnings and losses.” He straightened up. “But by whom?”

Juliet gathered the papers and folded them carefully. “Someone has been manipulating the outcomes, and it’s not just Sebastian we’re dealing with.”

With a triumphant yet silent cheer, Juliet extinguished the candles and, along with Duncan, slipped from the room, her discovery a precious secret.

“I’ve seen enough,” she whispered to Aunt Geraldine. “We can leave now.”

As they prepared to leave, Lady Ashfield approached. “I agree with you. Without the card game, there really isn’t any reason to be here. It was a disappointment. Lord Aurington has made a swift recovery and is hosting a gala as well as a private game this Monday. Will you be there?”

“Perhaps.” She felt a jolt when she realized Monday was Ewan’s birthday. Juliet exchanged a glance with Duncan, but he remained unmoved and stoic. “It was good seeing you again, Lady Ashfield.” The small party made their way to their waiting carriage.

As they left The Gilded Lily, the records tucked safely in Juliet’s reticule, the night air felt charged with possibility. The game had changed, and with it, the rules. Now, they were playing for higher stakes than ever before.

*

They walked up the steps to Fairmont Hall. “Good evening,” Wilcox greeted them as they entered and directed them to the drawing room. Two messages sat in the silver salver, one for Lady Rosefield and one for Lady Glenraven. Juliet’s hands trembled as she opened her invitation, her anger rising like a crescendo with each word she read.

“It seems we’ve been invited to your husband’s parents for a gala,” Aunt Geraldine’s tone was icy with disapproval.

“Yes, and I’ve been extended an additional invitation to a private card game.” She went up to Duncan, her eyes blazing.

“You promised you wouldn’t tell Ewan what we planned. ‘My word is my pledge,’ you told me.” She brandished the invitation like a weapon before she tossed it on the table.

“I told him nothing,” Duncan’s defense was swift and firm. “Other than I had seen you and that I knew where you were. Nothing more.”

“How did he know we would be at the Gilded Lily? And this? Laughing at me. Is that what—”

Her accusations were met with Duncan’s unwavering honesty. “No. Lass, we didn’t laugh at you. Ewan demanded to know where you were I told him I could not tell him. We almost came to blows, but I wouldn’t raise my hands to him. Instead, he asked that I keep you safe, and we parted ways.”

“Parted ways? That’s not possible,” Juliet whispered. The revelation that Ewan and Duncan’s friendship had been tested to its limits left her reeling.

“You gave me little choice. I knew what I was doing when I made my pledge to you. I couldn’t let you and Aunt Geraldine go to the Gilded Lily alone.”

“Come, Juliet. I’ll help you change while Duncan waits here for you.”

Behind the closed bedroom door, Aunt Geraldine’s anger mirrored Ewan’s—a reflection of the trust Juliet had shattered. “How could you demand such secrecy from him?” she demanded.

“I never meant to—” Juliet’s protest died on her lips as she faced the results of her actions.

“I’ve never thought you selfish, but this quest you’re on isn’t about Bradley. This is all about you. Why else would you make such a demand of Duncan? This isn’t a game with your brother who you had to best at every turn.”

Juliet stepped back in horror. “No. That’s not true.” Her voice was a whisper.

“Isn’t it? Think about it when you’re alone, hiding from everyone,” Aunt Geraldine challenged.

“I left to protect Ewan.” Juliet insisted, clinging to the justification she had woven around her actions.

“Do you really believe that? He is more capable of dealing with this than you are. All you’ve done is abandon him,” Aunt Geraldine countered. “You are still his wife. I know. I was there when you spoke your vows in front of the archbishop. Your leaving and hiding doesn’t change that. All you’ve done is leave him to face everything by himself. You even took Duncan away from him. It will be a miracle if Ewan speaks to the man again.”

Juliet sank onto the edge of her bed. “What should I do?”

“That is for you to decide.” Aunt Geraldine’s advice was clear and unyielding. “Neither Ewan nor Duncan deserve what you’ve done.”

Aunt Geraldine headed to the door and spun around to face her. “Your brother didn’t run away. I never believed he committed suicide. He died trying to save his family.”

Juliet followed Aunt Geraldine down the stairs and into the drawing room. Duncan stood as she entered. She glanced at the invitation to Aurington Hall she had tossed onto the table, a mocking reminder of the challenge and the choice to be made.

The carriage ride back to the summerhouse was shrouded in silence, a tangible reflection of the turmoil within Juliet. Aunt Geraldine’s scolding words still echoed in her ears, a stinging reminder of the rift she had caused. Duncan sat opposite her, his presence a silent comfort despite everything.

As the horses trotted along the familiar path, Juliet gazed out the window, the landscape a blur of shadows and moonlight. She wanted to speak, to fill the void with apologies and promises of change, but the words eluded her, caught in the web of her own making.

Finally, as the summerhouse came into view, a sanctuary and a prison all at once, Juliet found her voice, though it was barely a whisper. “Duncan, I am so sorry.”

Duncan’s eyes met hers, but they were unreadable. He saw her going inside and left without saying a word.