ESP 20

chapter 20

Briony’s memory had not been mistaken—Lord Vernon and Lady Vernon were indeed fond of traveling.

As soon as they arrived in Vernon, Briony and her party learned that the lords of the land were away. With no other choice, she decided at once to head toward Undine Isle. The guide from Lord Vernon’s estate led them to a riverside and then promptly disappeared.

There, they parted ways with the Duke of Byron’s attendant.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to escort you right to the front of the manor?”

“You’ve already done more than enough. We can manage the rest from here.”

Briony politely declined. The attendant was as perceptive as his master. Instead of insisting, he simply unloaded the two women’s modest luggage from the carriage and placed it onto the ferry.

“Then I wish you both a safe journey to your destination. Mistress Arlington, and the charming young lady whose name I don’t know.”

“My name’s Myrtle Meyer!”

“My master will be longing to hear from you, Mistress Arlington. Please, when you find the time, send him a letter.”

“I will. And do be sure to give Lord Weardale my thanks.”

Their ferryman was a grizzled old man with a rather grim face. When they told him their destination, he looked the two of them up and down, then asked where they had come from.

“From Ebony,” Myrtle answered for them.

Briony shrank a little, worried the ferryman might realize she was no longer Lady of Ebony—and thus had no claim at all to Undine Isle. But the man merely jerked his chin for them to board.

Though Vernon bordered Ebony and could be reached on horseback in just a couple of hours, Briony found it harder and harder to believe after entering Vernon.

Unlike the broad plains, rolling hills, and glittering lakes of Ebony, Vernon was surrounded by the dense Mirage Forest, where sunlight barely reached the ground even at midday. The land was fertile thanks to its great river, and it was the most heavily forested territory in the kingdom. The air everywhere was thick and humid, filled with the faint fragrance of trees.

Though the sun had set only recently, darkness already blanketed their surroundings. Briony could scarcely tell where the river’s ripples ended and the night sky began.

As her eyes adjusted, she caught glimpses of shadows in the moonlight—shapes like women with long hair trailing down.

Myrtle clutched her arm in fright.

“Mistress, look… I’m getting chills.”

“…They’re just willow branches.”

The river was broad enough that ten ferries could sail side by side. On either bank stood rows upon rows of willow trees, their trunks thicker than Briony’s arms could wrap around.

“Then what’s that waving over the water?”

“Probably reeds. Or water plants.”

Cold dampness and the night wind slipped through the seams of their coats. The ferryman rowed in silence. Unable to bear it, Briony finally asked,

“Is there no way to reach Undine Isle by land?”

“There is, but not with the carriage you came in. You’d have to guide your horses down a narrow path by the marshes.”

The ferryman’s rasping voice cut off the conversation.

Their little boat pushed through the heavy mist lying low on the water. Though her mind told her it hadn’t been long, Briony felt as though they might wander all night through fog and weeds.

After rowing upriver for some time, the current slowed. At a fork, the ferryman steered the boat to one side.

“…Mistress, I think it’s that way.”

The change was due to the water itself. It had grown thick, almost viscous, and murky—hardly like water at all. A wooden dock stretched across its surface, leading to land where a large building loomed.

“That’s Undine Isle.”

The ferryman moored the boat, unloaded their baggage, and took his fare before rowing away again. He had no intention of carrying their luggage to the manor. Exhausted, Briony barely noticed how both the estate guide earlier and this ferryman had turned strangely evasive at the mere mention of “Undine Isle.”

Instead, her and Myrtle’s attention was caught by something else.

Walking arm in arm down the swaying dock, both women were visibly shaken, no longer bothering to hide it.

“…Mistress, is it just me, or…?”

“What do you see?”

“Light…”

“…It’s lit, isn’t it?”

Undine Isle was as grand as Ebony Heights, and what they were seeing wasn’t even the main building but one of its wings. Tall trees obscured much of it, and they would need daylight to see the whole. But one thing was unmistakable: light shining through a window on the first floor.

“I’m not imagining it, am I?”

“Perhaps we both are.”

If there were caretakers present, they ought to have been living in a separate lodge, not illuminating the main house. That raised the chilling question: who was inside?

The window was too high to peer into. Circling the building, they found a front entrance. There were fresh traces of fallen leaves swept aside—very recently. That, at least, was faintly reassuring. Ghosts didn’t sweep floors.

Briony drew a deep breath and knocked.

There was movement inside.

Not footsteps approaching, but rather the sense of someone quietly watching. Still, she knocked again, and this time footsteps came closer.

Whose footsteps…?

The door creaked open. Myrtle clung tightly to Briony’s arm.

The man who appeared was familiar.

“…My lady?!”

Dmitri exclaimed, utterly aghast.

“My lady—no, Mistress Arlington! How… how are you here?”

Even this ever-composed butler looked genuinely shocked, his expression like he’d seen a ghost, and the disbelief lingered even after recognizing them.

Briony and Myrtle were equally surprised.

“Dmitri, what are you doing here? What of Ebony Heights?”

If Keith was still imprisoned, Ebony Heights would be masterless. Briony, remembering the chaos she had left behind, was worried.

“I came to ensure this place was secure. Mistress Mercy is managing Ebony Heights well. But how did you—”

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing the impropriety.

“Forgive me, I shouldn’t be asking you while leaving you standing here. Please, come in. You have no other companions?”

Taking their light baggage, he led them inside.

The interior was just as splendid as the exterior. High ceilings, intricate trims—luxurious even to Briony, accustomed to Arlington’s grand halls. Yet most of the furnishings were draped in white cloth, suggesting Dmitri wasn’t truly living here.

“Dmitri, are you here alone?”

“First, let me bring you warm tea and something to eat… Pardon? Did you ask if I live here alone?”

“Yes. In this huge house, with no one to help?”

He set down their luggage by the fireplace, tended the fire, and cleared cushions on the sofa for them. His avoidance only deepened her suspicion.

“Is Lord Ebony safe?”

She asked again. At last Dmitri turned and met her eyes.

“Mistress Arlington, I regret I cannot answer that.”

“Because I’m no longer Lady Ebony?”

His gaze faltered. Up close, he looked weary, burdened by worry and something like unspoken dread. His handsome features, already somber, seemed even more sorrowful.

“That’s not what I meant. Forgive me. It’s just… Lord Ebony worries for you, Mistress Arlington…”

Briony cut him off, sending Myrtle to fetch tea from the kitchen. Once alone, she lowered her voice.

“I heard Keith was arrested on charges of treason.”

“How did you know that?”

“Divorced or not, he was still my husband. And I know he would never commit such a crime. So will you still refuse to answer?”

Dmitri sighed heavily. Briony, too tired to stay upright, sank onto the sofa, grateful at least for the warmth of the fire.

“…Lord Ebony is alive. For now.”

“For now? Have you spoken with him directly?”

“Mistress Arlington—no, my lady.”

He knelt on one knee before her.

“Please, first tell me—how did you even know of Undine Isle?”

Briony recalled her plan to deceive the Vernons by claiming the isle as her divorce settlement. Since Dmitri knew nothing of that, her appearance here must have seemed inexplicable.

“I once saw the Dalmores listed as owning a summer estate here. I asked Keith about it, but he wouldn’t say much, so I forgot about it until now.”

“I see. And you haven’t stayed long in Shawbury, then?”

Though unsure whether Dmitri welcomed her presence, Briony felt immense relief to see a trusted face. And since she needed his cooperation to save Keith, she wanted to keep honest with him.

“…I had a falling out with my father. That’s why…”

Her hands clenched her skirt in shame, recalling the humiliations she had suffered.

“No need to say more,” Dmitri interjected gently. “So you and Miss Meyer came all this way alone?”

“Until we boarded the ferry. Lord Weardale lent us his attendant.”

Dmitri’s eyes widened.

“Who did you say?”

“Lord Weardale.”

“You mean His Grace, Theodore Byron, Duke of Weardale?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know him?”

“It’s a long story. He proposed to me, but I refused.”

“…You refused the Duke of Weardale’s proposal?”

Myrtle reentered with a tray of refreshments.

“Hard to believe, right? He was even handsomer than your master, if you ask me. I just brought whatever I found in the kitchen. Mistress, please eat something.”

Meanwhile Dmitri muttered to himself,

“Whether he’s handsomer or not… Weardale is richer than Ebony, the Byrons wealthier than the Dalmores, a duke outranks an earl… Poor Earl.”

“What was that, Dmitri?”

“Nothing. …So then, you must have heard about Lord Ebony from the Duke as well?”

“That’s right.”

“Then why come here instead of Ebony Heights? This place is remote and difficult to find.”

Briony couldn’t admit the truth—that she had planned to trick the Vernons into letting her stay here as though it were her rightful property. She busied herself with a sandwich instead, but Myrtle quickly covered for her.

“Isn’t it obvious? How could she return to Ebony Heights after being divorced? My poor mistress hoped Lord and Lady Vernon might help, but since they weren’t home, she had no choice but to try here.”

“Not exactly—”

Briony began to protest, but Dmitri bowed deeply.

“If I had known you were in need, I would have come myself, even without Lord Ebony’s orders. Forgive me for not realizing sooner.”

“It’s not your fault. And Myrtle isn’t entirely wrong.”

But Dmitri shook his head firmly.

“No, it is my failing. Lord Ebony entrusted me to care for you, to ensure you lacked nothing. Yet I only escorted you to Shawbury. That was negligence. Tomorrow I will summon help to clean this house entirely. You may remain here as long as you need. I will also assist in finding you a new residence. Please, rest easy.”

At his words, something inside Briony softened. A warmth rose in her chest, stinging her eyes—but surely that was just the hot tea Myrtle had brought. She wanted to thank him, but the words stuck in her throat.

Myrtle, unlike her mistress, was less moved.

“But won’t Lord Ebony scold you for this?”

“On the contrary. Had he been here, he would have said the same.”

Dismissing the concern, Dmitri rose.

“I’ll prepare a room at once. Please rest for tonight. Tomorrow morning, once you’ve risen, I’ll answer all the questions troubling you.”

Briony had many, but her exhaustion was too great. For now, his advice seemed best.

As Myrtle helped her up, Dmitri addressed them again, his familiar polite smile restored.

“I didn’t even welcome you properly earlier. My lady, Miss Meyer—welcome, truly, to the Dalmore estate of Undine Isle.”