🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 21
The next day, when Briony awoke, dressed lightly, and came downstairs, she found that all the white sheets covering the first floor had been cleared away, and the parlor was warm from a roaring fire. Drawn to the scene, which looked as though people had been living there all along, she wandered inside almost in a trance.
The furniture gleamed as if it had never been neglected, not a speck of dust marred the window frames or the mantelpiece. Only the hearth was piled high with ash, proof of the generous firewood consumed. Beyond the window stretched the path she and Myrtle had taken the day before, the river, and the bare willows. In spring, the view would be magnificent.
She tried to picture Keith standing there amid it all, but since they had never visited this house together, her imagination faltered.
“Good morning, madam.”
Dimitri appeared in the doorway, bowing impeccably, dressed as the perfect butler.
“Breakfast is prepared. Shall I bring it to your room if you prefer?”
“I’ll eat in the dining room, and you should join me, Dimitri. Has Myrtle woken up yet?”
“In fact, Miss Meyer assisted with the preparations.”
The dining room, grand enough to host twenty guests for a formal dinner, was fully set. Silver candlesticks and cutlery, the linen cloth—though old—were clearly well cared for, and the tableware itself was of a quality fit for Her Majesty. Even three years ago, when Briony had first gone to Ebony Heights, she hadn’t seen such fine things.
So they weren’t sold off after all.
Before their marriage, Keith had once mentioned, almost casually, that the Dalmore family had pawned heirloom silver and jewels when finances grew dire. She had pitied him then, never suspecting that treasures like these remained. Of course, Keith’s wealth was his to dispose of, and now she was no longer his wife, so it was none of her concern.
“…I thought this place had been empty for years, but it seems well maintained.”
“Did you sleep well, miss?”
Myrtle appeared, pushing a small cart laden with food.
“I was starving, so I ate a little already. But there’s plenty—ham, eggs, bread, soup. Please eat slowly.”
“If we had known madam would be here, I would have prepared fruit—”
Myrtle turned to Dimitri.
“Mr. Butler, I didn’t say this yesterday, but could you avoid calling her ‘madam’? Our young lady has even received a proposal from Lord Weardale. You serve the Dalmore family—if anyone overhears you, they might misunderstand.”
Briony felt awkward. Myrtle was right—she was no longer the lady of the Dalmore household, just an unmarried daughter of the Arlington family. Yet, she couldn’t deny that she didn’t entirely dislike Dimitri calling her “madam,” or more than that, treating her like family.
“My apologies. That was a slip.”
Dimitri bowed immediately.
“Then, would ‘Mistress Arlington’ suffice?”
“Just call me by name,” Briony suggested as a compromise.
“As you wish, Miss Briony.”
That satisfied Myrtle, who promptly left, after stacking before her mistress more food than she could ever finish—thoughtfully making herself scarce again. Grateful for her maid’s tact, Briony gestured to Dimitri.
“You should eat too.”
“To dine with the one I serve—that would be improper.”
“Didn’t you sometimes eat with Keith?”
When she had married into Ebony Heights, she had been surprised to see her husband, an earl, so close in age to his butler. They had seemed more like friends than master and servant—quite unlike her father, Sir Gideon Arlington, who treated his old butler like a drudge.
“Lord Ebony disdained formality… but he would not approve of me sitting at the same table as you.”
“Then at least sit down. We still have things to discuss.”
At her insistence, Dimitri reluctantly took the seat opposite.
Briony went straight to the point.
“Tell me what happened after I left Ebony.”
“What exactly would you like to know? As I said, Lord Ebony is safe.”
“Yesterday you said, ‘for now.’ That means he may not be safe, doesn’t it?”
As the wife of a High Court clerk, she had once known how arrested nobles were handled. With evidence, they were indicted and tried before the High Court. If accused of treason, they were interrogated by the Queen herself or her delegate, and in that one case only, defendants were denied counsel.
“Has the trial date been set?”
“…”
“Dimitri, yesterday you promised to answer all my questions.”
He looked troubled, as though torn between answering or not. She had no way of knowing why—but one fact she did know.
“Do you believe Keith capable of treason?”
“Never. My lord would never…”
Pain flickered in Dimitri’s brown eyes.
“Lord Ebony is not such a man.”
“Then is there any way to prove his innocence? Anyone who can help?”
“I wrote to the Marquess of Seymour, his superior in the High Court.”
“And?”
“His great-aunt, the Countess of Winslow, is currently in convalescence…”
“Noble trials admit only family and peers.”
Meaning, no matter how Dimitri tried, unless summoned as a witness, he could not even attend. He lowered his head.
“I am doing my utmost, but the Dalmores have few acquaintances of influence…”
Even if they had more, who would risk themselves for a man accused of treason? Briony sighed lightly.
“Even a baronet’s daughter counts as nobility.”
“….”
“And even as an ex-wife, I’m still family. Why shouldn’t I testify?”
“My lord would not want you dragged into this.”
“I don’t want it either.”
Her tone was firm. Dimitri looked up, startled, as she locked eyes with him and spoke each word clearly.
“Who would want to have a former husband accused of treason? Of course I don’t want to be entangled. That’s even worse than you calling me ‘madam.’”
Slowly, his expression shifted—into pure admiration. Briony knew he understood her point.
No woman wanted to marry a man branded traitor—or even admit to having been his wife.
Thus, the former Lady Ebony had every reason to fight to clear his name. That was the pretext Briony offered. Whether it would succeed, she did not know—but surely it was better than leaving Dimitri to struggle alone.
“So let me help Keith. If you’re uneasy about it… then say I’m doing it for the sake of my remarriage.”
“…Was that why you refused Lord Weardale’s proposal?”
It wasn’t. Weardale had proposed despite knowing of Keith’s arrest. She shook her head silently. She had her own reasons, and she did not want Keith to ever hear of this conversation and guess at them.
“Then tell me the truth. The Marquess of Seymour must have replied?”
“How did you know?”
“If I were you, I’d have threatened that unless he helped Keith, the High Court’s honor itself would be tainted. He couldn’t leave such a letter unanswered, not for the sake of appearances.”
Dimitri smiled faintly, drawing a neatly folded letter from his breast pocket and handing it across the table. Briony unfolded it.
**[I have received your heartfelt petition. It appears the Earl of Dalmore is not in prison, but confined at one of the old royal facilities once used for princes.
It has been decided that the Head of the ‘Queen’s Eye’ will preside over the inquiry on Her Majesty’s behalf. The hearing will take place at the end of the month, and Dalmore’s guilt or innocence will depend on the certainty of the evidence presented.
I assure you, the High Court will do its utmost to defend him.]**
She read the letter twice more, committing it to memory. What mattered was in the fourth sentence.
“What did the Queen’s investigators seize from Ebony Heights?”
“According to Lady Mercy and me—nothing in particular.”
“That’s… not good,” Briony murmured.
“Because you believe he was falsely accused?”
If they had wanted only to frame Keith, they could have fabricated evidence. But Briony’s worry was different.
“If they found something real that even you don’t know of, then we’ll have no defense.”
“But no such thing exists.”
His tone was so vehement that Briony glanced at him involuntarily. Realizing this, he quickly added:
“Because my lord is innocent.”
On that, she agreed.
And yet… she wasn’t sure she knew her husband as well as his butler did. Keith had faithfully served crown and estate as lord, High Court member, and family head. He had been irreproachable—yet one day, without warning, he had handed her divorce papers.
If there had been reasons I never knew… and if those reasons were tied to his arrest?
Weardale’s words came back to her:
This kingdom teems with those who exploit the unsuspecting. Either someone framed Lord Ebony, or someone benefits from his downfall.
He had even implied that among her new suitors could be the very man who framed Keith.
But if I turn that thought around…?
Who benefits if the Earl and Countess of Dalmore are divorced, and the Earl arrested, leaving him unmarriageable?
Remarriage did not always mean a wealthy divorcée matched with a poor noble. There were also young, handsome widowers with estates and titles who might…
No. That’s just wild speculation.
Briony shook the thought away. Now was not the time to let baseless suspicion cloud her judgment of Keith.
It must be confusion—born of Weardale’s words and the cascade of events since.
She gave instructions to Dimitri, who waited patiently.
“Write back to the Marquess, asking if the former Lady Ebony may attend as a witness. And find out exactly what charges Keith faces.”
“Yes, miss.”
“And if possible, copy the ledgers from last December onward and have them notarized. We may need them as evidence in court.”
Dimitri’s eyes widened. Before she could ask why, he lowered them again and bowed deeply.
“As you command.”
