Chapter Three
J uliana’s gaze darted between the gilded clock and the ornate mirror, where the flicker of her auburn curls and cream-silk gown mirrored her restless pacing. The memories of the masquerade, the glen, and him lingered in her every thought. The gentle pressure of Sebastian’s hand, the smoldering heat of his gaze that had cut through the anonymity of their masks—his kiss…
A soft knock broke her reverie. She turned, startled, as her maid, Alice, entered. “A note for you, my lady.” Alice held a folded piece of parchment, her cautious expression betraying her hesitation.
Juliana’s fingers trembled as she took the missive. Her breath caught when she read Sebastian’s words:
Meet me in the glen at dusk.
Ever yours,
S
The simple words ignited a rush of emotions—anticipation, fear, exhilaration. She pressed the letter to her chest, her heart pounding. “Ever yours,” she whispered, the sentiment echoing in her heart.
For a fleeting moment, she hesitated. What if her father discovered her absence? Yet even the idea of turning her back on Sebastian filled her with unbearable regret.
She would see him again. Soon.
As twilight descended, Juliana crept through the winding halls of Wyndham Manor. Her slippers barely made a sound against the cold stone floors, but her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Every step carried the weight of her decisions. The consequences of being caught loomed large, yet the memory of Sebastian’s caress spurred her forward.
Slipping through a hidden door, she emerged into the gardens, the cool evening air brushing her flushed cheeks. She moved quickly along familiar paths, her skirts brushing against dewy grass. The glen awaited her—a haven of shadow and moonlight, promising clandestine moments of bliss.
She searched the glen. Her pulse raced.
Sebastian waited beneath a massive oak, his broad frame etched in the silvery light of the rising moon. The sight of him, bathed in silver light, stole her breath. His intense blue eyes and tentative smile beckoned her, a pull she could not resist.
“Sebastian,” she gushed.
“Juliana.” His rich baritone wrapped around her. “I feared you might not come.”
“How could I stay away?” It was not truly a question. She took a step closer. “Though every moment here tests fate.”
He took her hand in his, his touch grounding her amidst the storm of her emotions. “I know the risks we take,” he began, his brow furrowing. “The feud between our families—”
“Is nothing but a relic of the past,” she interrupted, her voice fierce. “Must we allow the transgressions of our ancestors to govern our future?”
His gaze softened, admiration gleaming in his eyes. “You speak of defying tradition. But to do so would mean facing the wrath of both our families.”
Juliana intertwined her fingers with his, marveling at how natural, how right it felt. “And yet, here we find ourselves.”
Sebastian’s lips brushed hers, the caress a vow as he drew her close. “Here we are,” he murmured.
As the moon climbed higher, their kisses gave way to a conversation that meandered between confessions and shared dreams. Sebastian spoke of his family’s expectations and the struggle to reconcile duty with desire. Juliana listened intently, her resolve solidifying with every word. She studied his face—its lines illuminated by the silvery glow—and decided, with startling clarity, that she would risk everything for him.
“We might change our fate,” she suggested, her free hand resting over her heart. “Show them that love can bridge even the deepest divides.”
Sebastian’s expression flickered between hope and hesitation. “Do you truly believe that is possible?”
“I have to. The alternative is unthinkable.”
A sharp crack shattered the quiet, the snap of a twig sending a jolt of alarm through Juliana. Sebastian’s hand tightened on hers as their gazes darted toward the sound. Footsteps approached, accompanied by the rustle of fabric brushing against the foliage.
“Quick.” Sebastian pulled her behind the massive trunk of the oak.
Pressed against his chest, Juliana froze. The intruder’s footfalls grew louder, and she forced herself to breathe evenly.
“If we are discovered,” she whispered, “I will claim I was gathering night-blooming flowers for a sleeping draught. Mother has been struggling with insomnia.”
Sebastian raised a brow, impressed despite the danger. “Clever,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.
The shadow lingered for a heart-stopping moment, before vanishing into the darkness. She exhaled, her body trembling with residual adrenaline.
Juliana turned to Sebastian, her voice shaky but determined. “This feud threatens to destroy us before we have even begun.”
“It seems unfathomable,” Sebastian said, his voice tinged with bitterness, “that no one recalls what began this enmity, yet we cling to it as though it defines us.” His gaze clouded with emotion. “My father speaks of honor and tradition. But all I see is senseless hatred.”
“Do you believe it cannot be mended?” she asked, her tone tinged with desperation and hope.
He cupped her cheek, the tenderness in his touch stealing her breath. “I did,” he admitted softly, “until I met you.”
Juliana leaned into his palm, her heart aching. “Perhaps we might be the bridge to reconciliation.”
“It would not be easy,” Sebastian warned, though he thumbed along her jaw. “We would risk everything.”
Juliana’s chin lifted, her resolve shining in her eyes. “I would gladly risk everything for you. For the love we share and the future we want.”
He captured her lips in a tender yet demanding kiss. The glen grew darker as the night deepened, the stillness broken only by the soft whisper of the wind through the leaves. Juliana’s heart ached at the idea of leaving, but her fear of discovery was strong.
“I…” she hesitated, her voice heavy with regret, “…should go.”
Sebastian nodded, his expression a reflection of her own inner turmoil. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Until we meet again, my lady.” The tender gesture sent a shiver coursing through her, an ache of longing in its wake. Their eyes locked, a thousand unspoken promises exchanged in a single glance. With a final, reluctant look, she slipped away into the night.