But, So What?
“Have you found him, Master?”
Hessen appeared not long after the attendant had left the study.
“What became of the thief who stole Bill Remmer’s money?”
Matthias asked, a residual smile still coloring his voice.
“The constables have come and gone, yet they say they are at an impasse—neither proper evidence nor a single witness to be found.”
“And Leila Lewellin’s tuition, then?”
“If the thief is not caught beforehand, Her Grace the Dowager Duchess has expressed her willingness to pay it in her stead. The young lady of Brandt has declared the same intention. I understand Doctor Etman’s sentiments are no different.”
Just as he had expected.
Matthias tipped his chin and, smiling once more, set the file of papers aside.
Linda Etman was hatching a scheme.
That was the conclusion Matthias had drawn from the man he had encountered that morning and from the information he had gathered about the fool. He had supposed that by now she might have resigned herself to her son’s marriage; clearly the woman’s tenacity was far more virulent and stubborn than he had anticipated. Of course, whatever lay in her heart was no concern of his.
What amused him was Leila Lewellin—the woman who wore the face of one who knew everything in the world while knowing nothing at all. Perhaps it was time he started calling her a simpleton.
“If Master’s wishes should differ…”
Interpreting Matthias’s silence as dissent, Hessen ventured the words with caution.
“No.”
Matthias cut him off, laughter still in his tone.
“I respect Grandmother’s and Mother’s wishes. I have no objection.”
The moment he gave that answer, Matthias was certain: Linda Etman could not possibly have failed to calculate this possibility.
The pawn she had bought with money and pushed forward had been pathetic, yet the plan itself had been rather systematic and bold. She was not so stupid as to be unaware that people willing to cover Leila Lewellin’s lost tuition were everywhere. One glance at her own husband would have told her as much.
Then what was her true aim?
Matthias lightly stroked the tip of his chin, sinking into thought.
Even knowing that concealing the tuition money could not prevent Leila from going to university with Kyle Etman, why go to the trouble of raising such a commotion?
It felt rather like having an entertaining puzzle set before him, and Matthias’s crooked smile deepened.
“Assign someone to Mrs. Etman.”
He slowly crossed his legs. The expression that no longer smiled was gently at odds with the command his lips delivered.
“Mrs. Etman—do you mean the wife of Doctor Etman, our family physician?”
“Yes. Linda Etman. The doctor’s wife.”
The answer was so ordinary that it only flustered Hessen further.
“You need only report one thing.”
Matthias leaned his weary body back against the sofa once more; a soft smile played about his mouth.
“Whether Mrs. Etman meets Leila Lewellin alone—and if she does, what they discuss.”
The constables returned to Arvis the following morning. Instead of heading straight for the cabin as before, they came to the ducal residence. By chance, Matthias was just descending the staircase that led into the lobby hall.
“Good day, Your Grace. Forgive the discourtesy occasioned by this theft.”
The silver-haired man leading the group of officers offered a punctilious bow. Matthias halted in the center of the hall. Claudine and the servants following him stopped several paces behind.
“They wish to search for witnesses once more,” Hessen reported quietly as he approached. Matthias nodded with easy assent.
“Of course. By all means.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
The officer at the front observed every formality; the younger ones behind him hastily bowed their heads as well.
“Ah—Your Grace.”
The silver-haired constable, slowly raising his head, called after Matthias just as he was about to pass them. Matthias’s gaze, turning back to the man, remained utterly still.
“Might Your Grace have witnessed any stranger on the estate that morning?”
Though he seemed to hesitate a moment, the officer put the question with grave courtesy. Matthias turned fully to face him.
I did.
Instead of that brief reply, Matthias smiled with elegant composure.
He considered the things he could do for Leila Lewellin.
What if he arranged for Mrs. Etman’s tearful efforts—using her bankrupt cousin to stop her son’s marriage—to be exposed right about now?
If Linda Etman had not yet unsheathed the true blade she aimed at Leila, the worst might still be prevented. There would be a considerable uproar, but it would be settled one way or another; Doctor Etman and his son’s resolve was firm, so the wedding would take place. Once it reached that point, Mrs. Etman would have no choice but to abandon her schemes.
And after that—
Matthias leisurely lifted his gaze to the light of the chandelier.
Leila Lewellin, having seized the greatest fortune of her life, would live happily ever after.
Once they set up their newlywed household in Lutz, Mrs. Etman’s interference would scarcely reach them, and the doctor’s son would become a husband who cherished and loved his wife with all his heart. Within that love Leila would be free to study as much as she pleased. Clever child that she was, she might even become a rather fine scholar.
Matthias shifted his eyes to the crest carved into the high ceiling beyond the light.
Of course, if he were willing to endure a little extra bother, he could offer a better solution still. He could meet Linda Etman before she found Leila. Once she realized every detail of her plan had already been discovered by him, the woman would choose the quietest path of cleanup simply to salvage a shred of dignity.
Yes. That would be the way that minimized Leila’s wounds.
Matthias faced the constable again. Interpreting the silence as a rebuke for his presumption, the man looked thoroughly tense.
Matthias knew perfectly well what Leila’s happiness looked like. And the things he could do for Leila Lewellin were, to him, as simple as the flick of a single finger.
But so what?
Matthias’s lips recovered their smile.
So what, exactly, is your happiness to me?
All that would remain for him was a season of roses without you in it—a crack in this world of mine that is otherwise so perfect.
“I saw no one.”
The answer Matthias gave while looking the officer straight in the eye was low and dry. Only then did the man—and the watching servants—show relief.
“Ah, yes. Thank you for your gracious understanding, Your Grace. I committed a grave discourtesy on the off chance.”
To the officer’s apology Matthias willingly inclined his head. Emboldened by that cooperative manner, the man put the same question to Claudine, who stood behind Matthias.
“Might the young lady have witnessed any stranger?”
“No.”
Claudine answered without particular deliberation.
“I’m afraid I have no information that might be of help either.”
After a brief glance at Matthias she faced the officer again with a sweet smile.
When Matthias resumed the steps he had halted, the suffocating moment drew to a close. The constables departed to question the household staff, and Matthias climbed into the carriage waiting outside the entrance.
“You haven’t forgotten our promise, have you?”
Claudine reminded him gently of their afternoon engagement. After taking tea together they were to join Riette for dinner.
“Of course I remember, my lady.”
At Matthias’s reply Claudine wore a satisfied smile.
The carriage carrying Matthias soon left the mansion. As it passed the turning that led to the family physician’s house, just beyond the estate gates, Matthias cast a quiet glance out the window.
He hoped Linda Etman would provide entertainment beyond his expectations. For the small favor of watching and waiting, he felt he deserved at least that much.
Linda Etman dressed in a modest lavender gown. Her makeup was light; the hat she chose was dignified yet plain.
It was a meeting that must not look showy, yet must not look shabby either. After scrutinizing her reflection once more in the mirror, Mrs. Etman left the bedroom with composed steps. Today she elected to walk rather than take a carriage.
It was a meeting that required no witnesses. With that in mind she had gone herself to the cabin to see Leila and had chosen the rendezvous with care.
Waiting for the stagecoach at the stop, Mrs. Etman fell into brief reflection. But the matter was already begun. There was no road back; she could only go forward.
For Kyle’s sake.
While she steeled her resolve the coach arrived. Mrs. Etman boarded it with a silent sigh.
For Kyle she could do anything—even if it cast her as the villain.
The tea room Mrs. Etman had named stood some distance from the bustling thoroughfare. Arriving early, Leila took a seat by the sunlit shop window and waited for her.
Across the narrow street—barely wide enough for a single carriage—stood brick buildings draped in ivy. The shops that hung their signs there looked suitably worn and humble.
This tea room was no different: the faded awning and window, the tablecloth that still bore tea stains. It seemed utterly unlike anything that would suit Mrs. Etman’s taste.
Why, then, had she chosen this place?
A sense of puzzlement rose, yet Leila decided not to speculate freely. The more one thought, the more anxiety and restlessness only grew. She had no wish to heap unnecessary worry upon a heart already weary from the theft.
She must simply want a quiet place where the two of them could speak alone. There would be much to discuss, and besides…
The chain of Leila’s thoughts was interrupted by the clear chime of a doorbell. Assuming it must be Mrs. Etman, she rose at once—only to see a young gentleman enter. In a neat suit and felt hat he took a table set at an angle and unfolded a newspaper.
Leila sat again and stared blankly at the tea stain left on the cloth.
She had gone to the police station again today, yet nothing had changed. With neither witness nor evidence remaining, it might prove difficult to catch the thief at all—so one constable who pitied her had gently confided. Rather than cling to empty hope, it would be better to find someone willing to lend her the tuition money as soon as possible.
Was that what she ought to do?
Doctor Etman, of course, and even the Dowager Duchess of the ducal house and Claudine had all declared their willingness to cover the fees. That very morning Mrs. Mona had visited as well. If the thief was not caught, the servants of Arvis had resolved to pool their money for her tuition, so she must not worry—Mrs. Mona had comforted Leila and Bill with warm kindness.
Everyone was so kind that her heart only grew heavier.
Just as a profound anxiety escaped her as a sigh, the doorbell chimed again. Reflexively Leila rose once more and turned.
“Good day, Mrs. Etman.”
Leila bowed her head with the faintest of smiles. This time the real Mrs. Etman stood in the open doorway.