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chapter 8
Briony had locked herself away in her room for three days straight.
It wasn’t because she was obeying her father. Rather, the exhaustion that had built up after all the dramatic events she had been through finally came crashing down the moment she returned home. She wasn’t gravely ill, but she was unwell enough that she couldn’t get up and move about freely.
Myrtle busied herself running between the kitchen and Briony’s room to care for her mistress. Because of Gideon’s temperamental moods and miserly tendencies, the Arlington household was always short on staff. That meant Myrtle could no longer serve only as Briony’s personal maid as she had at Ebony Heights. Even the current housekeeper was not someone Briony had known three years ago, making it difficult to ask for leniency on Myrtle’s behalf. Though Shovary’s Tearie Haven was the grandest, most splendid mansion in the region, a gloomy and oppressive atmosphere always lingered within it. That, of course, was Gideon’s doing.
On the fourth day after arriving at Tearie Haven, Briony finally recovered.
While Gideon was out, she summoned Harold to ask about what had been happening during her absence. Harold was the longest-serving member of Gideon’s staff. Though somewhat spineless, his management skills were excellent, making him indispensable to the Arlington family in the absence of a true mistress.
“Nothing much has changed, my lady—before you went to Ebony or since. The master is always busy, and business has its good times and its bad.”
“There are many new faces, though.”
“Yes… Lady Kindly—the previous housekeeper—fell into poor health, so a new one was hired. At that time, some of the maids and footmen left as well.”
Which meant Gideon had not released Kindly of her duties voluntarily—he had dismissed her. And those who voiced displeasure had been dismissed with her.
Briony stifled a sigh.
“What about the business? Is the mine development going well?”
Shovary bordered the sea to the southeast and high, rugged mountains to the northwest. Scattered across those mountains were a dozen or so coal mines owned by Gideon. He also owned mines in other mountain ranges throughout the kingdom. Though he employed local overseers, Gideon himself would travel—even to the farthest mines—every few months for personal inspections.
“It’s not bad. There aren’t enough laborers in Shovary, so men from neighboring regions have been brought in… The master even mentioned purchasing another ship soon.”
A baronet ranked among the nobility but was not granted a fief from the crown. Instead, they were given opportunities to serve in semi-official roles—such as overseeing local security or collecting taxes on behalf of Her Majesty’s government.
The salary from such work was a mere drop in the bucket compared to the vast revenues of nobles whose lands spanned tens of thousands of acres. Thus, most baronetcies were not considered wealthy. The Arlington family had originally been one such modest house.
The late Arlington baronet had not been greedy. But young Gideon had been ambitious. Possessing a remarkable talent for business and investment, by his late twenties he had already become one of the wealthiest men in the province.
He was determined to acquire a title befitting his wealth, even if it meant sacrificing his pride and status. Since buying and selling noble titles was illegal, his only path forward was to marry into a noble house with an only daughter.
He had—Briony imagined—courted many noblewomen. Yet, no matter how rich he was, few were willing to endure the disgrace of marrying a coarse commoner-born man. Only one family had accepted his relentless courtship: a provincial baronetcy in a rural town.
That family was the Arlingtons.
“Tell me about Mother.”
As a child, Briony had once pleaded with her father. That day, he had seemed to be in good spirits—so she had dared ask. But his expression instantly hardened.
“Your mother died giving birth to you.”
“What kind of person was she?”
“Isn’t her portrait hanging in the parlor?”
That was the only information she ever received. So Briony could only imagine what had truly transpired between her parents. From the portrait, her mother, Constance Arlington, had seemed small, pale, and reserved—not someone temperamentally suited to Gideon. Their marriage, Briony suspected, had not been a happy one.
At twenty-two, Constance had died giving birth to her first child. Soon afterward, the elder Arlingtons also passed away, leaving the baronetcy to Gideon. But as a son-in-law, he could not represent or inherit the family line in full.
The title was destined to pass first to Briony once she came of age and married, and then to her children. Gideon held it only in trust. And that, Briony guessed, was one of the reasons her father resented her.
But really… with so much wealth, why obsess over a mere baronetcy?
Gideon exported coal from his mines overseas, to island nations and the wider continent. He also imported rare timber and stone, selling them to furniture makers and builders within the kingdom. Because of Shovary’s isolated location, his foreign trade was far more lucrative than domestic. Buying another ship would only expand that trade further.
“I’m glad to hear nothing terrible has happened. Thank you for taking such good care of Father,” Briony said.
The old butler shifted awkwardly. “Yes, but…”
“But…?”
“Last month, there was an accident in one of the mines…”
Briony instinctively leaned forward.
Gideon forbade his daughter from involving herself in his business. With no wife in the household, Briony was in effect the mistress, but he refused to grant her that authority.
Yet she had no intention of being treated as a useless dependent. At Ebony, she had overseen the affairs of Ebony Heights, toured the estate, and met with its people—not for society’s sake, but for work.
Meeting people for business was not unpleasant. And each time she acted in the role of countess, no matter how small the task, Keith had always thanked her sincerely.
“Ah, Briony. You have a gift for this.”
“But it was really Dmitri who did the work. I only went to look.”
“Dmitri says I don’t even have a gift for looking on.”
Keith’s smile had always been gentle, softened further by his light flaxen hair and calm gray eyes. Though his high cheekbones and sharp features could make him seem cold at first glance, the impression melted the moment he smiled. And then Briony would find herself smiling back without realizing it.
She shook her head to dispel the memory. If she wished to forget the longing she felt for her life at Ebony Heights, she needed to focus on the matters before her.
“An accident, you say? Did anyone die?”
“No, but several were injured. Part of the mine had to be closed. The ground was unstable, and a section of the tunnel collapsed.”
“Were the injured properly treated?”
Harold averted his eyes. “Only with first aid…”
“And compensation?”
“…I’ve been sending them food, out of my own pocket.”
In other words, the miners had received neither proper treatment nor compensation. Unable to stand it, Harold had personally supplied them with food.
Surely, refusing compensation for an accident caused by the employer’s negligence violated the kingdom’s laws. Yet Gideon, as Shovary’s effective administrator, could easily bury such matters. And the victims were hardly in any condition to travel all the way to Fanshaw to petition the Queen.
“That’s outrageous. Wasn’t there anyone to insist Father pay compensation?”
“Perhaps… but…”
It would have been useless. Briony thought of her father’s clerks, mine overseers, and accountants who sometimes visited Tearie Haven. They were always of two kinds: either timid and downtrodden like Harold, or vile and greedy like her father.
“Then I’ll visit those miners myself soon.”
Harold’s eyes widened as he tried to stop her. “My lady, what would you do there?”
“At the very least, I’m wealthier than you, Harold.”
The dowry her father had sent with her—and which Keith had returned to the Arlingtons—was technically her father’s, not hers. But she still possessed some jewels given to her by the Dalmore family upon her marriage, as well as the ones she had always owned. Selling them all could fund a small home and a few years of comfortable living. And she had inherited a modest estate from her mother, Constance, though Gideon still managed it on her behalf.
“My lady, no. If the master were to find out, he would raise hell.”
“I won’t tell anyone I heard it from you, Harold.”
At that, the butler could not argue further.
* * *
Dmitri’s grim premonition proved true.
After riding for over two days to return to Ebony, he found Ebony Heights in shambles from the very entrance. The housekeeper, Mrs. Mercy, stood outside looking utterly helpless. At least she wasn’t crying—fortunate, for the staff of Ebony Heights had always resembled their master: calm and rational.
“Steward, something terrible has happened.”
Recognizing him, she rushed forward. Dmitri dismounted.
“Mrs. Mercy, forgive me for leaving the house unattended. At my lord’s command, I escorted my lady to Shovary and have just returned.”
The housekeeper’s shoulders drooped. “So, as I feared, my lady left us while we were away. I didn’t even get to say goodbye… But worse still, a week ago men from the palace came and took our master away. They came in a great carriage bearing the crest of House Albrade.”
Dmitri quickly counted the days. He had left Ebony Heights with Lady Ebony—no, Mistress Arlington—nine days ago. That meant the warrant had been issued just two days after the investigators first arrived.
And such speed could only mean the investigators had found decisive evidence here at the house. He needed to know what.
“Who told you this?”
“Coachman Ash. On the morning we departed for Shovary, he had stepped out briefly. He saw strangers ransacking the house.”
Originally, Ash was to drive the party to Shovary. But while he was away, the investigators had arrived, forcing Dmitri to take the reins himself.
“Did Ash speak with them?”
“No, he was too frightened. He fled home, and when he returned, the royal carriage was already leaving Ebony Heights. By the time we servants arrived, the house was in ruins.”
“How many people know our master left with palace men?” Dmitri asked carefully. Best not to reveal to all the staff that “palace men” were in fact agents of the Queen’s Eye—that both a search warrant and an arrest warrant had been issued, and that Keith had been taken away.
“Only Ash and myself, so far. I’ve warned him to keep silent.”
In Ebony Heights, if Lord Ebony was absent, Lady Ebony oversaw matters; if she was absent, Dmitri took charge; if he was absent, the housekeeper, Mrs. Mercy, stepped in. Of course, all they could really do was prevent the situation from worsening.
“You’ve done well. Tell me, have you heard of any visitors from other estates recently?”
“Not that I know of. It’s the New Year season—no one travels far then.”
For the Queen to issue an arrest warrant against a noble lord, it had to be for something urgent and grave: murder or attempted murder of a royal or noble, fraud or treachery against the crown, or a judgment that the lord was wholly unfit to govern his lands. Such charges touched directly on the honor of the crown, and it was customary to announce them publicly when the accused was taken away.
But for the arrest to come so swiftly, so secretly, and against a noble with the rank of count—there could be only one possible charge.
A charge that could not be made public until indisputable proof was found. A charge where, if proven false, the accuser themselves might face ruin. A charge so dangerous it was always whispered about and hidden away for fear of sparking a wrongful execution.
The Queen’s taboo—high treason.
Count Keith Dalmore had been arrested on charges of treason.
The realization chilled Dmitri to the bone. He knew better than anyone that it was a baseless accusation. Keith had neither motive nor malice, and Dmitri, who had served the Dalmores for years, knew his master had always kept as far from politics and the royal family as possible.
Then…
Could it be… that my lord is suffering because of me?
The housekeeper said something, but Dmitri barely heard. He brushed past her and strode into the house. He needed to know what pretext the Queen’s investigators had seized upon to accuse his master of treason.
And he needed to save him.
