Chapter Five
J uliana’s quill hovered above the parchment, her breath shallow as she wavered between her heart’s desires and her family’s expectations. Flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows as her gaze drifted to the window, where the distant silhouette of Harcourt Manor loomed against the night sky.
“My dearest Sebastian,” she murmured as she began to write.
The burden of our secret grows more intolerable with each passing day. How I long to shout my love for you, heedless of the consequences! Yet…
The ink blurred before her eyes as a pang of guilt knotted her stomach. Her love for Sebastian was a lifeline, yet the weight of defying her father’s unyielding expectations bore down on her like a storm cloud.
She bit her lower lip. Guilt twisted within her—guilt for the pain her actions would inflict upon her family. But as she closed her eyes, the memory of Sebastian’s lovestruck gaze, the warmth of his touch, and the unwavering devotion in his voice returned to her, chasing away her doubts.
Though the world may stand against us, my heart remains steadfast. Meet me by the old oak at midnight. Until then, I am yours, always and forever.
A soft knock startled Juliana, and she hastily folded the letter, tucking it beneath the corner of a book on her desk. “Come in,” she called, smoothing her features into a mask of calm.
Mary, the youngest of the maids, entered, her arms laden with fresh linens. “Begging your pardon, m’lady. I didn’t mean to disturb.”
“Not at all, Mary.” Juliana offered a warm smile. Rising from her chair, she moved to help. “I was just finishing some correspondence.”
As Mary set the linens on the bed, her gaze flitted to the desk, where the folded letter peeked out from beneath the book. “Is there anything else you require, m’lady?” Mary asked, her tone carefully neutral.
Juliana shook her head, her mind already on her impending rendezvous. “No, thank you, Mary. That will be all.”
Mary dipped into a quick curtsy. “Good night, m’lady,” she said, then walked past the desk on her way to the door.
Juliana moved to the window, her fingertips grazing the cool glass. “Sebastian, my love,” she whispered, her voice a mix of trepidation and longing.
*
In the candlelit study of Wyndham Manor, Lord Edward Wyndham, Duke of Exitor, unfolded the letter Mary had brought to him with trembling hands. His daughter’s elegant handwriting leaped from the page, every word a dagger to his heart.
My dearest Sebastian…
His jaw clenched tighter with each line, the tender confessions of love twisting his fury into a storm. When he reached the part about meeting at the oak, he crumpled the letter in his fist, his face darkening to an alarming shade of red.
Griffith Wyndham sat across the room, lounging in a high-backed chair near the fireplace. At the sound of the crumpling parchment, his gaze lifted from the book in his hand.
“What has roused such ire, Father?” Griffith asked, setting the book aside. Though his tone was casual, his curiosity was piqued.
The duke’s sharp glare turned to his son. “Your sister,” he ground out, “has disgraced this family.”
Griffith rose slowly, his expression darkening with concern. “Juliana? What has she done?”
“See for yourself.” The duke tossed the crumpled letter toward him.
Griffith unfolded the missive, his brow furrowing as he read. His face paled slightly, though he masked the flicker of shock beneath a calm exterior. “She writes to Sebastian Harcourt,” he began, his voice carefully neutral.
“Harcourt,” the duke spat, pacing the room. “The very name reeks of betrayal. How dare she entangle herself with that family? After all their ancestors did to ours!”
Griffith folded the letter neatly and placed it on the desk. “Father, if Juliana has taken a liking to Sebastian, perhaps it is not as grave as you think. The feud is—”
“Do not speak to me of the feud as though it were a trifle!” the duke bellowed. “She would destroy her reputation, her future, for the sake of some foolish infatuation.”
Griffith kept his voice measured, his gaze shifting between his father and the letter. “If she loves him, is it not worth considering her happiness? The past—”
“The past is what binds this family together,” the duke seethed. “Do not defend her folly.”
Griffith hesitated. “Father, Juliana is not foolish. If her feelings for Harcourt are sincere—”
“Enough!” the duke roared as he snatched the letter. “I will deal with her now.”
He stormed from the study, Griffith trailing behind him.
“Juliana!” he thundered as he stormed down the corridor.
Juliana jumped at the sound of her father’s bellow. Moments later, her door slammed open, crashing against the wall. She turned, her heart pounding as she saw the crumpled letter clutched in his hand.
“Father!” she gasped, her voice trembling. “What—”
“Explain this!” Lord Wyndham’s tone was icy, his fury barely contained as he thrust the letter toward her. “This is some cruel jest. Tell me you have not dishonored this family by consorting with a Harcourt.”
Juliana’s pulse roared in her ears, but she forced herself to meet his glare with as much composure as she could muster. “I won’t lie to you, Father. Sebastian and I—”
“Sebastian?” He spat the name as though it were poison. “You dare speak his name in this house? After all their family has done to ours?”
“Father, the feud is senseless!” Juliana cried desperately. “Sebastian is not the same as his ancestors. He is kind and honorable—”
“And a Harcourt!” Lord Wyndham roared, his rage breaking through his veneer of control. “Do you truly believe you can separate him from the legacy of his family? You would throw away your reputation, your future, for a fleeting dalliance with our sworn enemy?”
“It is not a dalliance.” Juliana notched her chin in defiance, though her hands trembled. “I love him.”
Her father’s face twisted in disbelief and rage. “Love?” he sneered. “You are a na?ve child playing at romance. This infatuation will pass, and you will see reason. Until then—”
“No, Father,” Juliana shot back, her voice unwavering despite the tears pricking her eyes. “This is not some fleeting fancy. I will not abandon Sebastian.”
His expression darkened. “Then you leave me no choice,” he growled. “You are confined to your chambers until you come to your senses. I will not have a daughter of mine disgracing this family.”
Juliana squared her shoulders, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “I will not apologize for loving him. You may lock me away, but you cannot change what is in my heart.”
“Do not test me, Juliana.” He stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.
*
Sebastian stood in his father’s study, the air thick with tension. His father, George Harcourt, the Marquess of Clare, regarded him with a stony expression, his steely blue eyes narrowing.
“You love the Wyndham chit,” Father began, his voice full of disbelief. “Have you taken leave of your senses? Have you forgotten the blood spilled between our families?”
Sebastian met his father’s gaze, his jaw set in determination. “Any blood spilled was generations ago. Juliana has no part in it, nor do I.”
“You would risk everything for her?” Father asked coldly. “Your inheritance. Your future. The respect of this family.”
“Respect built on hatred is hollow,” Sebastian replied, his stance firm. “What Juliana and I have is real, Father. It’s worth fighting for.”
“Ah, so we have reached the declarations of undying love,” Rees drawled from his perch near the window. He leaned against the frame, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “Tell me, brother, what comes next? A serenade beneath her balcony?”
“Rees, enough,” Chloe interjected, her voice calm but firm. “This is not about the past. It is about Sebastian’s future.” Chloe turned her attention to the father. “Father,” she began softly, her hands clasped before her, “surely there is a way to preserve both family honor and Sebastian’s happiness. This feud need not define us forever.”
Father ignored her, his jaw tightening as he pinned Sebastian with a menacing gaze. “End this now, Sebastian. Or face the consequences.”
Sebastian’s fists clenched, his resolve solidifying. “No one even knows what started this feud. A stolen cow? A slighted honor? All we know is that it ended in a duel. If that can even be proven. Regardless, it was not our fight, Father.” Sebastian pivoted and strode from the room.
Determined, Sebastian left for the glen. He needed to hold Juliana—needed to lose himself in her. But as he reached the glen, the sight of her empty place beneath the oak filled him with dread. The night’s shadows pressed colder and heavier, a growing unease settling over him.
Without hesitation, he turned toward Wyndham Manor. He would not wait for answers. He would find her. Reaching the edge of the stone manor, he crouched behind a thick shrub, his heart pounding as he cast a small pebble toward Juliana’s window. The soft tink of stone against glass echoed in the still night.
Moments dragged unbearably until the balcony doors creaked open. Juliana stepped into the moonlight, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, her emerald eyes alight with relief.
“Sebastian,” she whispered, her voice carrying through the night.
“Juliana,” he called, stepping from the shadows. “I had to see you.”
“You should not be here,” she quavered. “If my father—”
“I could not stay away.” Sebastian’s gaze held hers. “I will never abandon you, my dearest Juliana.”
Her gaze softened, her voice trembling with emotion. “Nor could I bear it if you did.”
Sebastian hesitated, his heart torn. “I need you.” He stepped closer to the house, his gaze following the trellis up to her balcony. “I need to hold you, to feel your presence and know that you are mine.”
“This is madness.” Juliana watched him, a smile tugging at her lips as he took hold of the trellis.