Page 35 of Court of Shadows
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said hotly. “Just help me find a way to make them leave.”
I nodded and took my hand away, helping him lift the tray of sandwiches and then finding something of my own to carry. I did not tell him that instead, I was trying to find a way for all ofusto go. “Mr. Morningside wants me to testify on his behalf, and Finch wants me to speak against him. I... could lie, but I’m not certain that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?” he pressed, walking slowly to the door with me. For the first time since he had returned, he looked hopeful. Excited. “What does it matter if it will get them to go?”
I hesitated in the doorway. A bank of low clouds had moved in, settling across the sky like a heavy gray curtain. Finch spotted us lurking and gave a little wave to me as he stood next to his sister. “Because I’m not certain lying is an option, Lee. I don’t think they will let me make up stories, and if I do, I’m afraid it may get me killed.”
Chapter Twenty
Mr. Morningside did not appear at all during the “light refreshment” on the lawn, and it was growing dark by the time Mrs. Haylam urged the visitors to move into the pavilion. She had timed it all perfectly—the shepherd and his friends disappeared into the big white tent just as Mason Breen, his father, and Samuel Potts returned from Derridon.
I was dispatched to serve them supper in the dining room while Chijioke and Lee tidied up the mess in the yard and put away the wicker furniture. It was all accomplished like the smoothest sleight of hand—one group disappearing before the other could notice them, everything still running more or less smoothly while we accommodated two separate parties.
As I brought cold ham and an array of salads to the dining room, I couldn’t help but wonder what was taking Mr. Morningside so long. Hadn’t he only gone to change his clothes? Was this some calculated trick to make the shepherd wait and establish his dominance? Whatever it was, it only made me hopeful that it would grow too late for the trial to begin that night. I had already worked a full day, and I wasn’t sure I had the presence of mind to outwit an Adjudicator when I longed so for bed.
The elder Breen and Samuel Potts stayed just for a moment, long enough to snatch up a few cuts of meat and wine beforeretiring, grumpy and mud-spattered, to their rooms. Out in the foyer, I heard Poppy hurrying to find wash clothes and a basin for them while I continued serving Mason Breen. He was quiet for a spell, chewing slowly, drinking his wine lazily and with aching, exhausted movements. It was like he was moving through sludge.
“I suppose we must go to Malton tomorrow,” he finally said, sighing into his ham. His sleek blond head was low over the plate as he poked at his food. “After everything we... After so much turmoil. I cannot believe Amelia would humiliate me this way. I always stood up for her. Ialwaysstood up for her.”
Please go to bed, please go to bed, please go to bed...
“Sir, if I may—”
“Of course,” he said with a snort. “Does it look like I have anyone else to talk to?”
I bustled over from the serving board and poured him a bit more wine. If he kept drinking that claret steadily enough, then it would get him upstairs and asleep all the faster. He grunted in thanks as I refilled his glass, and then immediately began sipping.
“I did not know Miss Canny well,” I began, taking a step back and cradling the decanter with my palm. “Not at all well—in fact we only spoke at any length once—but she struck me as a strong-willed young lady. We grew up not far from each other, and as she revealed to me, in poverty.”
Mason moved with more urgency at that, his head turningswiftly toward me. There was a small red wine stain on his lip. “Did you indeed?”
“Aye, sir, my accent is not what it was, but Dungarven and Waterford are not far apart,” I said. “Having all that new wealth, joining a great family like yours... I can only imagine it was—is—intimidating for her. I know for my part it would be hard to change so much; it would feel like maybe I was betraying my old family. My old friends. It’s like becoming a new person.”
Gradually, Mason smiled, a dimple creasing his cheek as he gazed a little drunkenly at me. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. My only fixation has been her hatred of my father, and one can hardly blame her.... He is an acquired taste. He only wants what is best for me, but he cannot see that Amelia wants me forme, not for my money. Or at least I think she does. Damn it all, why did she have to run like that?”
He swore under his breath and pushed the claret away, then reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out the locket I had seen him fussing with earlier. Snapping open the hinge, he sighed and cooed over the little piece of jewelry. At that distance I could see the thing better and noted that one side contained a tiny painting of Mason, and on the other side was a young woman. A young redheaded woman who did not in any way resemble Amelia.
Amelia’s rival, the one she had murdered to get to Mason.
“Who is she?” I asked lightly. When he glanced at me, I gavehim the most dim-witted, vacant smile I could muster. “She is quite lovely.”
“Enid,” he breathed. The claret had put him on the verge of tears. “I adored her.Fatheradored her. She fell down the stairs and broke her neck at our country home. I found her when we came in from a hunt. It was the worst day of my life.”
I said nothing, watching as he downed his cup and then closed his fist around the locket. Darting forward, I poured a bit more claret for him, which he also guzzled.
“But then Amelia was there,” he slurred. Now he had two dimples as he gazed dreamily over at me. Poor sod. He was gone. “She was so constant, so understanding. I grieved Enid for months and months, but Amelia never wavered. Even after that ugly business in New South Wales, she stood by me. I liked that. She was never as pretty or accomplished as Enid, but she loved me with a kind of desperation that made me feel safe. Have you ever had that? Has anyone ever loved you that way?”
“No,” I said flatly. Did I want that? It sounded exhausting. “You are very fortunate to have found two such women.”
“By God, you’re right.” Mason tucked the necklace away and stood, unsteadily, grabbing the table for balance before stumbling a few steps toward the door. “Iamlucky. Amelia will come back. That’s who she is—devoted. Utterly devoted. Thank you, this... I needed this. Is it a great bother if I take the rest of that claret up with me?”
I smiled and handed him the decanter. “Just be careful goingup the stairs, sir, they are rather steep.”
“And I’m slaughtered, I know, you don’t have to tell me,” Mason said, hiccuping. He turned and fumbled his way toward the foyer, all of his limited concentration bent on keeping the wine upright. That he would make it back to his chambers completely upright was looking less and less likely.
It was a relief to be alone, and I took my time tidying the mess the men had left. The longer I took, the later it became, the greater the chance I could escape up to bed without being asked to do more chores. But I was not to be that lucky. As I extinguished the last of the candles and wiped away the wax, a shadow darkened the room. Mr. Morningside. He waited in the archway leading to the foyer, his tall, slim silhouette unmistakable.
