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chapter 4
“My lady’s belongings have been divided among three carriages, and you’ll arrive in Shaubury within a week. I’ve already written to the Arlington family’s butler, so you needn’t worry about handling the luggage.”
“There’s nothing I need urgently, so you didn’t have to rush like that.”
“Ash will drive you to Shaubury by carriage. Of course, I’ll be accompanying you as well.”
“We could’ve just hired a private carriage, why go to such trouble…”
Briony tried to refuse, but when she saw the butler’s sorrowful expression, she fell silent. Just as with everything else, Dmitri had surely prepared meticulously for her move. If she didn’t want his efforts to be wasted, it was best to let him handle it as he wished.
“The house is quiet.”
She changed the subject.
As promised, Keith had given the servants a day off. Briony had asked for this not only to show her gratitude for their hard work in moving her things but also because she wanted to leave Ebony Heights when the house was empty, if possible. She still vividly remembered the day she had been carried over the threshold in Keith’s arms, only to be startled as the servants lined up in two rows and greeted them with a booming cheer the moment he set her down.
“Must you leave today?”
“My father must be waiting for me.”
Briony lied. Dmitri surely knew it was a lie. If Sir Gideon Arlington had truly been so desperate for his daughter’s return, he would have sent at least a private carriage for the long journey.
Of course, the blame for the divorce lay with Keith, and so by law he had to return Briony’s dowry in full, down to the last coin, and also bear all costs for her relocation. But that was only what the law demanded. She had wanted care from her father, not sympathy from her former husband. If that wasn’t possible, she would rather sell a few of her jewels to pay for the moving expenses herself.
When she had spoken of this to Dmitri, he had looked utterly shocked and stricken.
“To spend your own money on moving, my lady? Impossible. If Lord Ebony knew, he would dismiss me on the spot. For my sake, please—let my master do the duty that is his.”
“There’s still a little time before departure. The master said he would return before then.”
“Where has he gone?”
“A child was born last night at the steward’s house, so he went to offer congratulations.”
The birth of a child was a joyous occasion in any household. And Keith, ever conscientious in his duties as lord, would not neglect such a responsibility, even today.
“It’s a shame I can’t go myself. Would you tell them congratulations on my behalf?”
“Of course. …Would you like some refreshments while you wait?”
“Just a warm cup of tea, please.”
While Dmitri stepped away, Briony adjusted her clothes in the hall mirror.
It was fortunate no one else was around. The servants were sharp enough to guess, upon being given a day off, that their lady meant to leave Ebony Heights during that time. Perhaps Dmitri had warned them not to pry, for no one had come to her to confirm the rumor, but the atmosphere in the house had undeniably grown heavy over the past few days. She hadn’t wanted to leave amidst such gloom.
“Briony, my la—my lady.”
Myrtle came down from upstairs. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying again the night before.
“Why are you up so early? You’re already dressed as well.”
“Dmitri went to make tea. If you want some, go ask him for a cup too.”
“I won’t drink so much as a glass of water in this house.”
Myrtle muttered through clenched teeth.
But around her neck hung the pendant Keith had given her the day before, as thanks for caring for his wife. Now that Ebony had once again fallen into poverty, the lord could not afford to buy gifts even for his former wife’s maid if he hoped to get through the winter. So the pendant wasn’t newly bought—it was one of the late countess’s jewels. Briony had recognized it immediately, though she said nothing to Myrtle.
“Miss Mayer’s tea is ready as well.”
“Oh, goodness!”
Myrtle jumped back as Dmitri appeared again, carrying a tea tray, and passed her by into the parlor beside the hall. After he set the refreshments and bowed out, Myrtle reluctantly urged Briony to eat some bread with her tea.
“My lady, please eat at least a little. The coachman says it’ll take a week by carriage.”
“I won’t be sitting in the carriage nonstop. We’ll stay in inns at night.”
“There’s nothing to see this time of year—it’ll be a dull trip.”
Myrtle wasn’t wrong. A week in a carriage meant staring at bleak scenery and being cramped in a small, swaying room.
Briony, who had slept little the night before, had planned to rest during the journey. But Myrtle’s words made her reconsider.
“I should stop by the library for a moment.”
No sooner had she spoken than Myrtle darted to the fireplace and yanked the bell-cord as if she’d never get another chance.
Dmitri reappeared at once.
“You rang, my lady?”
“I’ll need something to read on the road. May I borrow a few books from the library?”
“Of course, my lady.”
The library at Ebony Heights also served as Keith’s study. Briony followed Dmitri upstairs and asked him quietly.
“Dmitri, you often go into the library when Keith isn’t there, don’t you?”
“I go to dust the book spines.”
“Have you read any of them?”
“Only the ones my master allowed.”
“What sort of books do you like?”
“What sort does my lady enjoy?”
Briony realized, now that she was leaving, how little she knew of this butler. All she knew was that Dmitri was a few years older than Keith, that he had already been serving the Dalmores before she arrived, and that while his age might have made him only an assistant butler in another household, here he held Keith’s deepest trust.
Perhaps he was hired cheaply because he was young?
She dismissed the unkind thought and asked again.
“When did you come to this house?”
“Seven years ago.”
He opened the library door for her.
The first thing she noticed was the candlestick Keith used when reading—the candle had burned down to the length of her fingertip. When she stared at it, Dmitri explained apologetically,
“The master was here late last night.”
“It isn’t good to let the candles burn down so far.”
“…It’s not because we can’t afford new ones.”
“It’s just that it could easily set something else alight.”
Dmitri looked faintly abashed, but Briony ignored it and moved toward the shelves she favored most.
One of the pleasures she had indulged at Ebony Heights was reading classic novels. Her tastes ranged from historical epics to gothic tales. At the Arlington estate, her father Gideon’s library reflected his own preferences, so she’d never truly experienced the saying “to lose oneself in a book” until she came here.
Keith had even offered, at first, to set up a private library for her. She had declined, preferring this study, with its faint fragrance of tea and his lingering presence.
Oddly enough, though Keith himself rarely read novels, the library housed hundreds of worn classic volumes—clearly well-thumbed by someone.
When she hesitated to choose, Dmitri said,
“You may take several. They aren’t to the master’s taste anyway.”
“Then who did read them?”
“The late Lady Caitlin Dalmore.”
“Ah…”
Briony had heard that Caitlin Dalmore died five years ago, two years before she herself came to Ebony Heights. Keith had hardly spoken of his younger sister, but she knew the former count had fallen ill and died from the grief of losing his daughter, leaving the family in misfortune.
If Lady Caitlin had lived, would we have been close friends?
In the kingdom, early deaths were not rare. A plague seven years ago had claimed lives regardless of age or rank, spurring noble houses to focus on producing heirs. When someone died young, families often kept locks of hair in lockets or commissioned portraits to preserve their memory.
Strangely, Ebony Heights held not a single portrait of Caitlin Dalmore—unlike the late count, whose likeness adorned the stairway and halls.
If these novels were her only keepsake, then Caitlin’s tastes were astonishingly similar to Briony’s own. She almost wished she could take the collection back to Arlington with her. But to Keith, they were his sister’s relics. She was glad she had held her tongue when he’d spoken of alimony—better not to mention the books.
“I may take a while to decide. Would you ask Myrtle to rest comfortably while she waits?”
“As you wish.”
Dmitri was just about to leave the library when—
“Who are you? Who do you think you are, barging into someone else’s house?”
Myrtle’s voice rang up from below.
