ESP 26

chapter 26

Unaware that her ex-husband was burning with determination to ensure that the proposal from Duke Byron, which she had rejected, would succeed in a way that wasn’t disadvantageous to Briony, she was exploring Undine Isle.

Undine Isle was a mansion as antique as Ebony Heights, built and expanded by successive Dalmore Counts over time according to their needs. However, unlike Thierry Haven in Shobury, which was lavishly rebuilt using expensive modern materials, this mansion seemed to have been restored while preserving its original, aged charm and maintaining harmony with the surrounding scenery. Briony, who had a keen interest in mansion renovations and management, enjoyed exploring such an old estate.

Myrtle declined Briony’s invitation to explore together, saying, “It’s a lovely mansion, but somehow it feels a little eerie. If it’s alright, I’ll sit comfortably in the parlor.”

It wasn’t unpleasant for Briony to wander alone and take in her surroundings.

Undine Isle had an unusual layout: a long building running east to west, with annexes on each end forming a “ㄷ” shape. Only after walking around the entire structure did Briony realize that the shape was due to the terrain surrounding the mansion. The door she and Myrtle had knocked on three days earlier led to one of these annexes.

When she first disembarked and walked along the dock, Briony had wondered why there was no fence around the mansion. Her curiosity was soon satisfied: the river itself acted as a sort of moat, and building a wall would have blocked the scenic view of the river and the weeping willows above it. The front of the mansion, of course, had a sturdy iron gate and fence. Briony found herself captivated by the view beyond the fence as well.

Beyond the fence, and within the area enclosed by the two “ㄷ”-shaped annexes, was entirely swamp.

The first day they arrived, the boatman had explained why it was difficult to reach Undine Isle by land. The mansion was located on a naturally formed hill between the river’s branches and swampy areas. Perhaps, over centuries, the flowing water created both swampland and muddy terrain.

As a result, to approach the front of the mansion, one had to cross the wetlands either on horseback or on foot. The incline toward the front was steeper than the back due to the hill’s terrain—a unique feature. The late Dalmore Count who chose to build a retreat here must have been both particular and obstinate.

Even the high windows of the annexes looked directly over the swamp, offering a desolate view during this season.

However, Vernon was a forested domain, a domain of trees. Part of the western annex was hidden among tall beech trees, making the building barely visible from the river. The same applied in other directions on Undine Isle, where willow and ash trees, as well as various unknown plants and grasses, grew among the swamps. When spring arrived and everything sprouted, the estate would resemble a “Water Spirit’s Island” from summer through autumn, with flowers like water lilies, daffodils, and poppies blooming amid the reeds and rushes.

Briony had never seen such expansive, wild nature, neither in Shobury nor in Ebony. Perhaps Myrtle’s description of the place as gloomy had some truth; the damp air might negatively affect the weak or sensitive. But Briony was neither, and she appreciated the solitude to reflect.

“Shall I go up to the annex?”

She was looking at the tree-surrounded annex when a soft cough came from the hill below. A tall, adolescent boy—his face still youthful—approached.

“Ma’am, isn’t Mr. Walton here?”

Walton was Dmitri’s steward. Briony shook her head.

“He stepped out for a moment.”

The boy carried a heavy-looking bag on his side and pulled out an envelope. Seeing it, Briony realized he was the local postal messenger.

“This is from Mr. Walton… Excuse me, but may I ask who you are, ma’am?”

Briony replied vaguely:

“I came from Ebony.”

The boy brightened.

“Oh, from Ebony! Then please deliver this to Mr. Walton. Someone from Ebony came by early this morning to give it to him. Important letters like this are always delivered that way.”

Briony accepted the envelope. Judging from the recipient’s address—Ebony Heights—and the boy’s explanation, letters for Dmitri were being sent directly from Mrs. Mercy. She also checked the sender’s address, though the only clue was that it came from a shop in Fanshaw.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to give it to Mr. Walton when he returns.”

Even after she promised, the boy hesitated.

“Do you have something else to say?”

“Um… you’re not from the Dalmore family, are you, ma’am?”

Before her divorce, she would have been, but not anymore.

“Why do you ask?”

“I heard the family all have very light brown hair…”

Briony’s hair was flaxen: sunlight made it golden like ripe wheat, shade made it closer to milk chocolate. Occasionally, she felt an impulse to touch Keith’s flaxen hair and wonder if it was as soft as it looked or cool and crisp like flax fibers.

“I heard that too. But the Dalmore Count rarely comes to this mansion.”

The boy looked at the mansion with curious eyes.

“My uncle is the caretaker here. He checks on the mansion two or three times a month, fixes anything broken, and ventilates it.”

…So the mansion had indeed been regularly maintained. Houses left unattended for years become unusable.

Lowering his voice, the boy added:

“But… they say this house has… ghosts.”

“What do you mean, ghosts?”

Myrtle would have shivered, but Briony wasn’t scared by the mere mention of ghosts. Considering the mansion’s location and its long-unvisited state, it wasn’t unreasonable for such rumors to circulate.

“Are you the new owner of this house?”

The boy likely mistook Briony, a first-time visitor dressed like a noblewoman, as someone intending to buy the mansion.

“If so, you might want to look elsewhere. Vernon has many other fine places.”

“I actually like this one.”

The boy shook his head firmly.

“My uncle says that when it rains, the waters rise, making it dangerous to come by foot or boat, and the location is isolated. Wouldn’t it be frightening for someone like you to live alone?”

“Then it’s perfect for me—no one to bother me.”

“You’re quite unusual,” said the boy, removing his hat and bowing slightly.

“I have other places to check, so I’ll go now. But ma’am, could you watch me until I disappear from sight?”

“Why?”

“You came by boat or horse, right? But if you want to walk around nearby, you need to know where the paths are. From here, it’s hard to tell swamp from road if you’re unfamiliar with the area.”

“Is the swamp really that dangerous?”

The boy sighed:

“This swamp, in front and along the mansion’s sides, is notorious. Once someone falls in, they can’t even recover the body.”

Hearing this, Briony felt a more practical fear than the ghost story.

I’ll need to warn Myrtle too.

True to her promise, she watched the boy until he disappeared from view. During the day, the path was safe, but at night, it could be hazardous without knowledge of the route.

No one maintains the mansion, so they didn’t bother to put up a fence…

Thinking this, Briony entered the main entrance, intending to carry out the plan she had formed before the boy arrived. From somewhere in the hall, she faintly heard Myrtle humming while knitting. The familiar voice, combined with the ghost story, sounded eerily haunting.

“Myrtle!” she called.

“Yes, miss!”

Her reply reassured Briony slightly.

“It’s nothing!”

“Yes, miss!”

Briony adjusted the shawl over her shoulders and walked down the corridor, climbing the marble staircase with elegant railings. Dmitri had said she could explore as much of the mansion as she wished.

The rooms that aren’t ready have been locked.

We don’t plan to use all those rooms, so no need to organize them further.

Yesterday, Dmitri’s staff had thoroughly cleaned parts of the upper and lower floors. The first floor of the main building had a spacious hall, a family living room, a guest reception room, kitchen, pantry, and dining area—similar to Ebony Heights. Bedrooms and studies occupied the second floor and above.

Briony and Myrtle’s quarters were two rooms closest to the central staircase. Dmitri stayed in the east annex.

Curious about the top floor, Briony climbed to the fourth floor and turned east. The faint smell of dust indicated the area hadn’t been cleaned.

She wasn’t interested in the rooms; she wanted the view of the swamp from above. At the end of the corridor, she drew back the curtains and struggled to open the heavy window. The unlubricated frame creaked loudly.

The effort was worth it: the fourth-floor window offered a view distinct from that at the front gate. From this height, the trees below and the land or swamp were visible, making it impossible to distinguish paths. Looking down made her dizzy, and she stepped back.

“Miss.”

“…You startled me!”

Briony yelled uncharacteristically. Myrtle, calling from behind, also seemed startled.

“…Miss, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I should be saying that! Don’t call out suddenly from behind.”

“Then what, from the front…?”

Myrtle muttered.

“You disappeared after calling me earlier, so I followed to see where you went. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I was looking at the view.”

“There’s nothing to see here,” Myrtle said, still skeptical about the mansion’s gloom.

“You have an unusual taste, miss. But you’ve had enough fresh air; let’s go inside for some warm tea. Even healthy people don’t do well with damp air for long.”

Myrtle approached the window, curious about what Briony had been observing. As she reached to close it:

“Ah…!”

Myrtle’s hand flailed.

“What’s wrong?”

“My pendant…!”

Myrtle frowned.

“…My necklace got caught on something and broke!”

The pendant was a farewell gift from Keith, a delicate gold fish-shaped piece from a previous Dalmore Countess. Though not as valuable as gemstones, it was precious, and Myrtle, as a maid, treasured it.

Briony approached and looked down. The window opened outward, with a latch at the bottom that had aged and protruded slightly, catching the necklace and causing it to break.

“It’s my first jewel… Can I retrieve it?”

“Myrtle, below is a swamp.”

“What if my dress gets dirty? Mud washes off easily.”

“It’s not just the dress—it’s deep and treacherous. Dmitri warned you not to go beyond the fence.”

“But…”

Myrtle’s gaze refused to leave the window. Briony closed it herself, restored the curtains, and comforted the girl by wrapping an arm around her.

“It won’t be as pretty, but I’ll give you one of my pendants. Choose one.”

“I can’t! All of yours will be sold someday for money. I can’t let my vanity ruin your retirement plans.”

Though Briony didn’t know if she could rely on the jewels until old age, she chose to console Myrtle instead of arguing.

“Consider it a gift for following me this far.”

“I followed because I wanted to.”

Though still reluctant, Myrtle was kind and sensible.

“…It’s unfortunate, but what can we do about what’s already lost? Ah, I’m becoming more like you, miss.”

“How so?”

“You always say, ‘What can we do, it’s already happened.’”

“…I didn’t say that often.”

“You did.”

Briony reflected on her habits. When things didn’t go my way, I always adapted quickly.

Myrtle tilted her head, considering:

“Well, perhaps you’ve done it less recently?”

Then, Briony wondered which recent events she hadn’t accepted as unavoidable. Her father’s tyranny? Lord Weardale’s proposal? She seemed to have sought other paths instead of resignation starting around then, even before leaving Thierry Haven.

When did it begin?

‘Would you consider divorce?’

When her nominal husband brought it up?

When she had to leave Ebony after three years?

When Lord Ebony was arrested as a traitor?

…She didn’t know. Before she could think about the fact that it all related to one person, she shook her head internally and drank the tea Myrtle had prepared.

Like the other items in Undine Isle, the tea set was exquisite. The cup’s base was thick to retain heat, while the upper part maintained a delicate curve—a skillful craft, even though it was a two-generation-old antique.

Myrtle toyed with the sower pattern.

“I don’t like the location, but there are many fine things here… Why didn’t Lord Ebony sell this place?”

“Family circumstances may have prevented selling a house inherited through generations.”

Myrtle pouted.

“But if you’re not using it, you could’ve given it to the miss as alimony.”

Myrtle’s hope was perhaps too ambitious. Briony, smoothing the skirt of her voluminous dress to sit closer to Myrtle, felt the rough fabric beneath her fingers. She remembered the envelope the postal boy had delivered and realized she had forgotten it.

She retrieved it.

“Myrtle, do you know this address?”

Myrtle, interested in Fanshaw and its nobility, frowned at the sender’s address.

“…Ah, it’s probably the famous shopping district in Fanshaw. Many boutiques for ladies’ clothes and shoes are there. You visited a few times preparing for your debut, didn’t you?”

Briony’s social debut was arranged solely for her father’s ambition of marrying her to a titled noble she did not wish to marry. She remembered being dragged about exhausted by her father’s chaperones and coordinators. Otherwise, she might have appreciated Fanshaw more.

Briony placed the envelope on a table at the hall entrance, weighing it down so the wind wouldn’t blow it away. If it was a bill or something, Dmitri would handle it.

…Did Keith perhaps order new clothes in the meantime?

The thought briefly crossed her mind and vanished.