Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
T here is no denying it.
Before, I could excuse it as a trick of the light. But just now? From a foot away, I watched his eyes change from dark brown, to glowing amber, to brown again.
Eryx is hiding more than just his treachery in stealing this estate from me. I can’t even begin to put into words what it might be. Perhaps I should be frightened, but the mystery pulls me in like a wave being pulled by the moon. I will get to the bottom of this, no matter what the truth reveals.
It occurs to me that my initial assumptions were all wrong. The firing of the servants, sending away the men refurbishing the house, trying to be rid of me—it’s not all solely to enrage me.
It’s to get as many people away from him as possible. He was telling the truth just now when he said it wasn’t me. It’s him. There’s something about him he doesn’t want people finding out. He needs as few people on the estate as possible to keep his secret. Somehow, his “valets” are involved. They know and are helping him hide it. Of that, I’m certain.
Before I can decide what to do with this new information, a letter arrives from Father:
My dearest daughter,
Thank you for telling me about the new duke. It is highly surprising and suspicious. I’ve put as much pressure on Vander as I can manage, but there’s nothing more I can do. I tried writing to your sister, but I suspect she is burning my letters before even reading them. No help will come from there.
I’m not sure why I bothered to tell you that. You clearly aren’t worried about the new duke, but I am worried for you. We know nothing about this man, and he appears to be taking advantage of you by cutting off your access to your late husband’s money.
Might I propose you look at considering marriage again? If we find you another rich husband, this time one who won’t die for some time, we can better secure my our futures. I’ve put together a list of some suitable matches. You are a dowager now, so you’ll have to take charge in this matter, but I have every confidence in your securing a new husband.
Your loving father,
Sergios Stathos, Lord Masis
I toss the letter and list of names into my hearth to be burned. I knew there was nothing my father could do to help me be rid of the duke. I only needed him to make Vander sweat, which he did, motivated by his own selfish interests, as usual.
I can’t imagine what he’d do if he learned the fake duke offered me twenty thousand necos to remarry. Probably kiss the man’s boot.
As usual, the only one I can depend on to get things done is myself.
I have three items on my to-do list:
1. Secure money to hire a private investigator to find proof of Eryx’s deceit.
2. Figure out Eryx’s secret.
3. Learn where he’s sleeping at night.
If I can legally prove that Eryx is in the wrong, I can be rid of him. If I learn his secret, I can blackmail him and be rid of him that way. I should cover both bases to be extra certain. And I’m convinced that item number three will inform item number two.
I walk through the manor, checking all the guest rooms for signs that a pompous, insidious man is occupying them. It takes over an hour, for the manor is enormous, but I find nothing. No rumpled sheets or clothing or anything at all to suggest they’re being occupied.
A distasteful thought occurs to me, so I try asking Mrs. Lagos about it.
“Has anyone been through to clean the unoccupied servants’ quarters?”
“Certainly, Your Grace. Though we may be shorthanded, we don’t leave messes.”
“I wasn’t calling into question the skill of the staff. You’re all wonderful. I merely wondered if there was a room that should have been unoccupied that wasn’t?”
Mrs. Lagos cocks her head to one side. “No.”
I confide in her. “The duke isn’t sleeping in the master suite. I’m trying to figure out where he runs off to at night. Have the maids been ordered to clean new quarters?”
“If he’s sleeping somewhere other than the master suite, the staff has not been informed of it, Your Grace.” Her face pales. “Do you think there’s a mess somewhere that needs cleaning? Should I ask—”
“No,” I say quickly. “Do not disturb the duke on this matter. If he wanted something done, I’m sure he would have told you. I’m getting the sense that he does not want anyone in the house to know where he is nesting.”
“Nesting?”
I nod. “Like an irritable badger.”
Mrs. Lagos covers her mouth in an attempt to hide her giggle.
I MAY NOT HAVE learned where Eryx is sleeping at night, but there’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll find something useful in the study. But it’s hard to tell when Eryx and his men aren’t inside. I absolutely cannot be caught snooping through his things.
So I wait for the right moment.
In the meantime, I turn to the library.
I’m in my most comfortable day dress. A pink so soft it might be mistaken for white. The sleeves are three-quarters the length of my arm and loose, rather than tight about my form. Ribbons pulled into the shape of roses have been stitched at the top of the sleeves and along the skirt in a random, trailing design. I wear my hair up, my ears free of earrings today. No makeup. Just me.
I’ve already finished the next pick for book club and passed it along to Damasus for reading. We won’t meet for another week, so I’ve plenty of time to select and finish a new book. As a mood reader, I generally don’t plan out my reads ahead of time.
But today, I’m looking for a specific book. The Adventures of Voleta Mavros.
My fingers skim along the alphabetized shelves, looking for the author’s surname. When I find it, I pull the book free by the spine. It’s the same title I found in Eryx’s cedar chest, though this copy is new, likely not opened since purchased. I can’t be sure if I bought it or if it already existed in the late duke’s collection. No matter.
Since Eryx is a man of few belongings, this book clearly means a lot to him.
I take it and venture outside to find a spot to read, settling for the gazebo at the center of the unfinished hedge maze. At least this structure was finished before the planting came to a halt. The workers built it first so they wouldn’t have to carry construction materials through a maze before reaching their destination.
A storage bench resides underneath the white-painted trim. I select a blanket from the compartment, shake it out, and make myself comfortable. Then I begin to read.
The story starts when Voleta is six. She’s a wild girl who doesn’t like to do as she’s told and gets into all kinds of mischief. She thinks to climb the tallest tree on her father’s grand estate, only to realize she has no idea how to get down. She sneaks into the kitchens at night, knocks over a container of flour, and manages to coat herself in the white powder, leaving a trail of child-size footprints back to her room. In the summer heat, she’s too impatient to put on swimming clothes before jumping into the river against her governess’s caution. The heavy skirts pull her down until she is saved by the supervising adult.
There are happy instances, too. She rescues an abandoned kitten in the busy streets. Plays dress-up with her younger brother. Rides on her father’s horse and pretends to take charge at the head of a cavalry. As Voleta grows older, she grows no less wild, though she does learn from her mistakes.
It’s not to my usual tastes, for there’s no romance nor high-stakes adventure, but it’s a cute story for a child.
The fact that Eryx owns it is puzzling. Perhaps his copy has sentimental value, like the dented canteen or that scarf. The canteen, I assume, is from his time in the army. And the scarf? Perhaps a token from a lover? Then, remembering this is Eryx, I amend myself. A female relative. He said he was an orphan, so perhaps it belonged to his mother.
I finish the book in a matter of hours, and my limbs are cramped from sitting in the same position. I stretch my arms over my head before ducking out of sight beneath the railing at the edges of the gazebo.
Eryx stomps across the grounds of the estate, going for one of his “walks.” Normally, Dyson and Argus will either accompany him, or they’ll stay at the manor while Eryx goes off on his own. But today, a carriage rolls up to the manor, and the two henchmen climb in, Dyson enthusiastically so.
It would seem he’s finally getting his free time in town.
This is my chance.
I wait until both parties are out of sight before sprinting back to the manor. I pass by only a handful of servants, who curtsy or bow, skirting the edges of the halls to allow me easier passage. When I reach the door to the study, I let myself in with my skeleton key.
I start at the desk, flipping through all the parchment scattered about there. I find the receipts to all my purchases in one pile, correspondences in another pile. Within the drawers are even more papers. Some are the beginnings of letters. Others are scraps with bits of mathematical formulas, which Eryx appears to have been using to handle the accounting. I’m pleased to find his numbers are correct when I compare them to the books.
It’s tedious work, sifting through all those words, most of them meaningless. However, I do find one interesting letter from the solicitor:
Your Grace,
I have made the changes we discussed. I think you will find that everything is in order upon your arrival.
There is yet one matter that I failed to bring to your attention because I thought it trifling. Your grandfather left a widow behind, but I think you will find the dowager duchess to be most amenable upon your arrival. She is a quiet little thing and, pardon my saying so, utterly simple in the head. You won’t even notice she’s around, so please do not find yourself unwilling to go through with this because of her existence.
Your faithful servant,
Simonides Vander
So he made plans with Eryx before trying to steal money from me.
The letter doesn’t contain anything I didn’t already know, but hearing Vander’s description of me is irritating nonetheless.
There are allusions to things that might prove to be condemning. Unwilling to go through with this. Or changes we discussed . It could refer to Vander changing the will. Their scheme could be what he fears Eryx being unwilling to go through with. But it is too vague to be evidence of anything. A chief inspector would laugh if I presented it before him. Eryx’s unwillingness to go through with taking up the title could have only to do with his humble background and lack of desire to become a duke. The changes referenced could simply be some bit of money Eryx wanted moved around.
I open the drawers, sorting through even more letters, hoping to find something actually condemning within. It isn’t until I reach the very bottom of the last drawer that I find a slip of paper crumpled into a tight ball. The parchment is plain and bears no address or signature. After smoothing it out as best I can, I read,
I hear you’re calling yourself a duke now. I didn’t know a gutter rat could climb so high. That’s some real fancy caste system you’ve got over there in Naxos.
There’s a glob of something brown on the parchment, as though someone spit on it. I slide my fingers away before continuing to read on.
Sounds to me like you’ve got access to all kinds of money now. After what you did to me, I’m owed. I hear you have yet to be formally recognized as duke before the king. Sounds like your situation is awfully precarious. It would be a real shame if certain information were brought to light before your title was made official, or after, for that matter.
I want five hundred necos by the end of the month. I’ll write the address you can drop it off at down below. Nice doing business with you. I’ll be in touch again real soon, friend.
I read the letter twice, just to be sure I’ve remembered all the important bits.
At first, I have to stifle a giggle. Eryx is being blackmailed. But I sober up quickly enough, for that means someone is trying to dip their filthy fingers into my money.
The desire to confront Eryx and demand to know what he did is nearly overwhelming, but I stifle it. I have to be smart about this. Does this letter have anything to do with the reason Eryx sneaks off the property during random times throughout the week? Is there some scheme beyond stealing everything from me? Whatever it is, his past appears to have caught up with him.
But this paper lay buried and crumpled at the bottom of a drawer. Clearly Eryx has no intention of paying this person off, else he would take care with the listed address.
My back snaps ramrod straight as a new thought occurs to me.
This blackmailer…
If this note were found, if it were made known that someone was trying to take advantage of the duke—
They’d be the first suspect if anything were to happen to Eryx…
If it comes down to it, I could kill the fake duke and have a scapegoat.
I return the letter to where it was hidden and exit the study, locking the door behind me once more. If I could skip in my long skirts, I would.
There is an end in sight. If I have to turn to something desperate, I can get away with it. Not only that, but it sounds like whoever wrote that letter of blackmail has information that could condemn Eryx. I wonder if it has anything to do with his glowing eyes? No matter, perhaps the blackmailer will expose Eryx before I ever need lift a hand.
I’m here to take the safest route possible to getting what I want. I can play the long game and avoid committing a crime unless I have to.
Besides, that letter has given me an idea for getting the money out of Eryx to pay the private investigator’s fee.
W HEN E RYX COMES OUT OF the woods late for dinner, his eyes widen in surprise to see me waiting for him at the dining room table. I never wait for him. Dinner is served at six o’clock sharp. Normally, if I can avoid seeing his face at all, I will take the opportunity.
“Duchess, what are you doing?”
“Waiting for you, of course.”
He looks down at his chair, examining it from multiple angles before taking a seat. “Thought perhaps you’d put a needle on it or something.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I’ll try to remember it for next time.”
He rolls his eyes before digging into his food. “What do you want?” he asks with a full mouth.
Distasteful.
“I have a proposition for you.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “What is it?”
“It’s occurred to me that we could help each other out.”
“You’ve considered accepting the generous dowry I’ve offered, then?”
I force myself not to frown at the reminder. “No. I remembered that you have yet to be formally recognized as duke before the king. Unless, of course, you’ve managed to walk all the way to the royal palace on one of your little hikes?”
He takes a drink of water, his eyes remaining fixed on me. I’ve clearly piqued his interest.
I continue. “I’ve said before that the king is about to become my brother-in-law. I would be willing to put in a good word for you publicly, increasing your chances of a smooth transition.”
I’ve surprised him. I can tell by his silence.
And it would be surprising, if I had any intention of following through with it. No, Eryx Demos will either be in prison or dead before I have to do any such thing.
“In exchange for what?” he finally asks.
“I want my stipend reinstated immediately and doubled as you so generously offered.”
Eryx puts his hands on the arms of his chair and surveys me. “Where would this public good word you’d put in for me take place?”
“My sister’s wedding is fast approaching. Not only will everyone of importance be there, but the king is likely to be in a good mood. I think that will be the best time.”
Eryx grins slowly. “Done. I’ll have the money deposited into an account for you.”
When I don’t get up from the table right away, he asks, “Is there something more you wanted?”
“Let’s pretend for a moment that I sing your praises before the entire nobility and you have all the documentation necessary to prove your identity.”
“I do have all the necessary documentation.”
“The point is that will all count for very little if you show up to the wedding acting like an animal.”
He grunts. “Back to insults so soon?”
“If you were to sit as you usually do, tipping back in your chair, not only would you be shunned from society, I doubt you could even get an audience with the king.”
“You’re being melodramatic,” he says as he returns his attention to his food once more.
“I’m not. Odell Vassos was shunned from events for wearing a dress that was so out of fashion, working-class girls were wearing it. I’m assuming you thought you’d get away with wearing one of your two pairs of pants to the wedding?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Regardless of who you say you are, you clearly weren’t raised to be a nobleman. Or if you were, you’re very out of practice. We have two months left before the wedding. Let me help you to prepare for it.”
Spending more time with him will be dreadful, but it’s the only way I’ll get to the bottom of his glowing eyes.
“In exchange for what?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.
I look down at my immaculately shaped nails. “I’m a busy woman. My time costs money. I want three hundred necos for lessons and helping you to update your wardrobe. On top of that, you will let me hire back the servants who have yet to find new jobs and allow me to finish the renovations to the estate. And”—I pause to take a breath—“I’m moving back to the master suite, since you’re clearly not using it.”
He is silent for a long, long moment.
“I will give you five hundred necos, and we will forget about the renovations and servants.”
“ Three hundred . There are only five servants who have yet to find new employment. And the estate cannot continue in this manner of disarray. What if the king and future queen should wish to come visit? Do you think seeing the place like this will earn you goodwill?”
He searches my face, as though looking for some hidden treachery. Unlike the first offer, this one is real. I will have to help him, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. I need to get that money to pay Mr. Tomaras.
He says, “You may renovate one thing at a time. The workers are to be confined to the space in which they are working. I don’t want a hundred extra people in the manor at all hours.”
“And the servants?”
“Fine. Hire five of them back.”
“Three hundred necos it is, then. I want it in my account by tomorrow, along with my first stipend. I’m also moving back into my rightful room immediately.”
Eryx shakes his head as he takes yet another bite of food. “How did Vander ever mistake you for a simpleton? You’re craftier than a fox.”
“Perhaps Vander is the simple one.”
“Perhaps so. Do you know, Duchess, I believe that’s the longest we’ve spoken without any malcontent.”
“If you continue to act like a reasonable human, I should think we could keep it up. Now, tomorrow morning, we’re to go into town. You’ve money to transfer, and then we’re going shopping. It’s about time you owned your third pair of pants.”