THE DUCHESS WAS FORCED TO HOST HER HUSBAND’S MISTRESS FOR ONE MONTH ON THE LAST NIGHT, THE MISTRESS

The first thing Duchess Eveina Harkort noticed was not the woman. It was the luggage. Eight trunks stood beneath the great chandelier of Harkort House, their brass corners gleaming beneath hundreds of candles, while 20 dinner guests watched in stunned silence. Then Eveina looked beyond them at her husband and at the woman standing beside him, Miss Viola Gray.

There were some humiliations society whispered about. Others arrived at your front door with eight trunks. Eveina descended the staircase slowly, one hand resting against the polished banister. Nobody spoke. Even the musicians in the adjoining ballroom had somehow stopped playing. Duke Adrien Harkort removed his gloves as casually as though he had returned with a cousin instead of the woman half of London had once called his mistress.

Viola looked magnificent. dark auburn hair, a deep blue traveling gown, pearls at her throat. No embarrassment whatsoever. Eveina stopped three steps above them. Adrien, her husband lifted his eyes. Eveina. She looked at Viola. Then at the trunks. How long? Adrien did not pretend not to understand. One month.

Someone near the drawing room doors inhaled sharply. Eveina almost laughed. Not because anything was amusing, because anger, when sufficiently great, sometimes arrived wearing the face of disbelief. You expect your mistress to live beneath my roof for 1 month? Adrienne’s jaw tightened. Former mistress, that was new. Eveina looked at Viola again.

Viola’s expression barely changed. Then, congratulations, Eveina said. Your scandal has improved by one adjective. A few guests looked at the floor. Adrienne stepped closer. This conversation should be private. You brought her through the front doors during my dinner. Yes. Then privacy appears to have lost its importance.

For the first time, Viola spoke. Your grace. I did not come here expecting a welcome. Eveina looked directly at her. That is the first sensible expectation anyone has expressed this evening. Adrienne exhaled. Then Viola reached into her traveling cloak. I believe this may explain matters. She produced a folded letter.

Adrienne’s expression changed only slightly, but Eveina saw it. Viola offered the letter to her. Eveina took it. The paper was expensive. Adrienne’s personal stationery. The red wax seal bore the Hardort crest. She unfolded it. Come to Harkort House on the 1st of October. Remain 30 nights. My wife will host you on the final evening. Everything I promised you will be yours.

Ah. Eveina read it twice, then raised her eyes. What did you promise her? Adrienne’s face had gone very still. Nothing. [clears throat] Viola gave a small, almost amused sound. Eveina handed him the paper. Apparently, your memory is weaker than your handwriting. Adrienne looked at the letter. His eyes moved across each line.

Then he said, “I did not write this. The room seemed to grow colder.” Viola’s smile disappeared. You sent it to me 3 weeks ago. No, it bears your seal. I can see that. and your handwriting. It resembles my handwriting. Viola stepped closer. There is a phrase in that letter you used with me in Brighton.

Adrienne looked up sharply. Eveina noticed. So did Viola. The phrase mattered. Adrienne folded the letter. Who delivered it? A boy. Whose boy? I don’t know. Describe him. Perhaps 14. Brown coat, dirty boots. Adrienne stared at the seal again, then looked toward the servants. Mr. Bellamy, a thin, dark-haired man near the library door, immediately approached.

Adrienne’s private secretary. Bellamy had served him for so many years that Eveina sometimes forgot he was present, even when he stood in the room. Your grace, have the East Suite prepared. Eveina turned. No. Adrienne looked at her. Viola did too. You cannot be serious. Very. You just said you did not invite her. I didn’t.

Then send her away. Adrienne’s gaze remained on the letter. No. That answer unsettled Eveina more than the arrival itself. Adrienne was proud. If someone forged his name, used his seal, and sent his former mistress to his home, she expected fury. Instead, he looked interested. Dangerously interested, Eveina stepped nearer and lowered her voice.

Why are you allowing this? Adrienne finally looked at her. Because whoever wrote this expects Miss Gray to remain here for 30 days and and I would like to know why. Eveina stared at him. [clears throat] Then investigate the letter. I intend to. You do not need to house her while doing it. The person responsible may [music] need her inside this house.

That is hardly reassuring. No. Then why must I host her? Adrienne tapped one line with his finger. My wife will host you. Eveina looked at the words again. Someone had not merely wanted Viola at Hardcourt House. They wanted Viola and Eveina together. That realization pushed the humiliation aside for one brief moment.

Something colder replaced it. Adrienne leaned closer. If we alter the arrangement immediately, whoever designed it may disappear. And if we follow it, they may reveal themselves. Eveina’s eyes narrowed. You expect me to participate in someone else’s game for 30 days. She looked toward Viola. The woman was watching them both. Not triumphantly now.

Carefully, Eveina said. I already dislike this game. Adrienne replied quietly. So do I. And that frightened her more than anything else. Before we continue, if you enjoy stories filled with hidden motives, dangerous secrets, and aristocratic scandals, subscribe to Nightfall Tales, and stay with us because what entered Hardcourt House that evening was far more dangerous than a mistress.

By breakfast the following morning, every servant in the house knew. Every guest from the previous evening would know before noon and by tomorrow London would know. Eveina entered the breakfast room at 9 precisely. Viola was already seated in Eveina’s chair. Eveina stopped. Viola looked up. Oh. Eveina said nothing. Viola glanced at the chair.

Is this yours? It has been every morning for 9 years. Viola rose. I was not informed. You have now been informed. Viola moved to the opposite side of the table. Adrienne sat at the head reading correspondence as though seating former lovers beside wives were ordinary household administration. Eveina poured tea. Viola buttered toast. No one spoke for almost a minute.

Then Viola said, “You believe I came here for him?” Eveina continued pouring. You traveled 80 miles carrying eight trunks. That does not answer me. It answers enough. Viola smiled faintly. I did not come for Adrien. Adrienne lowered his paper. Eveina noticed. So you say. Viola lifted her cup. You may continue thinking otherwise.

Eveina stared at her. Adrienne said, “Viola, your grace. What does that mean?” It means, Viola replied, “That not every woman who enters a man’s life wants to remain there.” Adrienne folded his newspaper. Eveina’s curiosity sharpened. “Then why are you here?” Viola smiled again. “But this time it was different. Tighter. Because I need something from my husband.

From this house?” Adrienne’s chair scraped against the floor. What? Viola looked at him. I have not yet decided whether to tell you. Eveina almost admired the audacity. Almost. Adrienne rose. You forged nothing. Viola’s eyes flickered. Only once. Too fast for most people to notice. Eveina noticed. Adrien did too. He stepped toward her.

Did you forge that letter? Viola gave a soft laugh. Yesterday you insisted I was foolish enough to believe it genuine. I asked you a question and I have no intention of being interrogated over breakfast. She stood then looked at Eveina your grace and left. Eveina watched her go then said she lied. Adrienne replied yes about which part? That is what I intend to discover.

But Eveina had already made a decision of her own. She would discover it first. 3 days later, the first envelope appeared. Eveina found Viola standing beside the breakfast table, completely motionless. Adrienne had not yet entered. A white envelope lay beside Viola’s plate. No seal, no name, only two words. Day three. What is it? Eveina asked.

Viola did not touch it. I don’t know. Open it. You open it. Eveina gave her a cold look. It is beside your plate, which is precisely why I suggested you open it. Eveina picked it up. The paper was ordinary. She unfolded it. One sentence had been written inside. Ask the Duchess what she keeps beneath the green floorboard. Eveina stopped breathing.

Viola’s face changed. What? Eveina folded the note immediately. Nothing. That was not nothing. Adrien entered. He took one look at Eveina and stopped. “What happened?” Eveina handed him the note. He read it, then looked at her. “What green floorboard?” Eveina did not answer because neither Adrien nor Viola knew. Nobody should have known.

There was a small sitting room in the oldest part of Harkour house. It had belonged to Eveina’s mother before her marriage. Years ago, when her mother became ill, Eveina had hidden their private correspondence beneath one loose floorboard painted a faded green. “Not jewels, not money, letters, letters she had never shown her husband.

Letters she had never shown anyone,” Adrienne said slowly. “Does such a floorboard exist?” “Yes,” Viola stared at Eveina. “And what is beneath it?” That is none of your concern. Adrienne immediately called for Bellamy. Seal the exterior doors. No servant leaves without being questioned. Bellamy nodded. At once.

Viola looked from Adrien to Eveina. This is absurd. Eveina turned on her. Is it? Viola’s face hardened. You think I wrote that? I think you arrived carrying a forged invitation and then refused to explain why you are truly here. Perhaps your husband wrote it. Adrienne laughed once without humor. Why would I ask about something I did not know existed? Viola looked at Eveina.

You believe him very quickly. No, Eveina said. That is not the same as believing you. That night, Eveina did not sleep. At 11, she heard movement in the corridor. At midnight, nothing. At 1, she saw a candle light disappear beneath Adrienne’s study door. And shortly after 2:00 in the morning, another door opened. Viola’s.

Eveina waited 10 seconds. Then followed. Viola moved quietly through the darkened corridor in a dressing gown and slippers. No candle. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Adrienne’s study. She opened the door. went inside. Eveina waited 1 minute, two, then entered. Viola stood at Adrienne’s desk.

A lamp burned beside her. Several sheets of paper were spread across the surface. Viola froze. Eveina looked down. She saw Adrienne’s name written again and again. Adrien Harkort. Adrien Harkort. Adrien Harkort. Every signature almost perfect. Beside them lay practice versions of individual letters, the curve of his A, the long stroke of his H, the exact flourish he used at the end of his name.

Eveina looked at Viola. You forged it. Viola said nothing. The invitation. Silence. You wrote it yourself. Still nothing. Eveina stepped closer. Answer me. Viola slowly lowered the pen. Yes. The word landed almost disappointingly. The great mystery had survived 3 days. Eveina had expected denial. Instead, Viola simply confessed.

You forged Adrienne’s handwriting. Yes, you obtained his seal. Yes, you sent yourself an invitation to my home. Yes. Why? Viola looked toward the door, then back at Eveina. Because I needed 30 days inside Hardcourt House. Eveina felt anger rising again. For what? Viola’s expression changed. The arrogance disappeared.

Something harder replaced it. I came to find a man. What man? My brother. Eveina stared at her. Viola continued. Jonas Gray. The name meant nothing to Eveina. He worked for your husband. When 2 years ago, Northern Estate office. What happened to him? Viola swallowed. £8,000 disappeared. Eveina’s eyes narrowed. He stole it.

That is what Adrienne told everyone. And you do not believe it. No. What happened to Jonas? He vanished. Eveina’s anger weakened only slightly. Then why become Adrienne’s mistress? Viola looked directly at her to gain access to his private papers. That answer hurt in an entirely different way.

Eveina had spent months imagining Viola as a woman obsessed with Adrien. Now she discovered even the affair itself had begun as an investigation. Did you love him? Viola hesitated. Eventually, perhaps the honesty of it made Eveina dislike her more. And now no. Eveina looked at the copied signatures. So this was all yours. The forged invitation. Yes.

The first envelope. Viola’s expression changed. No. Eveina stared at her. Do not lie again. I am not. You expect me to believe you forged the letter that brought you here. Then someone else conveniently began sending mysterious notes. I did not write it. Eveina reached for the bell. Then we will ask Adrien. Viola grabbed her wrist. Wait.

Eveina looked down at her hand. Viola released her immediately. What? Viola whispered. There is something else. Before she could continue, a sound came from the corridor. Paper sliding against wood. Both women turned. Something appeared beneath the study door. A white envelope. Eveina opened the door immediately.

The corridor was empty. No footsteps, no movement, nothing. She looked down. On the envelope, day seven. Viola had gone pale. Eveina opened it. Inside were seven words. The man you seek never left Hardcourt. Viola sank into Adrienne’s chair. No. Eveina looked at her. What? Viola shook her head.

My brother was never here. You just said he worked for Adrien on the northern estate, not this house. Then why would someone write that? Viola stared at the note. For the first time since arriving at Harkort, she looked frightened. The following morning, Adrienne read the message three times. Then he ordered searches of storage rooms, staff quarters, sellers, attics, unused offices. Nothing.

No Jonas Gray. No evidence he had ever lived there. But the letters continued. Day eight. Ask the Duke why the West Ledger was burned. Adrienne read that one, then walked directly to the fire and burned it. Eveina stared at him. What was the West Ledger? Nothing. Viola laughed bitterly. Men only burn nothing when it is extremely important.

Adrienne turned. Careful with what? You are still in my house. Viola stood. Only because you chose to keep me here. Do not confuse permission with safety. Silence. Evevelina looked between them. Something had changed. Adrien was no longer merely curious. He knew what the note meant, and he was afraid Viola might learn it.

Two mornings later, another envelope arrived. Day 10. There are three liars at this table. Only three people were seated at breakfast. Eveina, Adrien, Viola. No one spoke for several seconds. Then Viola smiled. Well, Adrienne stared at the message. Eveina looked first at Viola, a proven liar, then Adrien, a man who had burned a clue, and finally down at her own hands, because there was something she had not told either of them.

Years earlier, her younger brother Damian had once asked her a strange question about a clerk working for Adrien. She had forgotten the clerk’s name. Until now, Jonas Gray, she remembered, and she said nothing. Three liars. The letter was correct. The next afternoon, Eveina finally cornered Adrien inside the library. Did Jonah steal the money? Adrienne continued reading.

Yes. She closed his book. He looked up. You answered too quickly. Because the answer is simple. Viola does not believe you. I am not responsible for Viola’s beliefs. Did Jonah steal the money? Adrienne’s jaw tightened. Yes. A white envelope suddenly slid beneath the library door. Both of them saw it.

Eveina ran to the corridor. Empty. Again, she returned. Adrienne had already picked it up. Day 11. He opened it. Eveina watched his face. For the first time since the month began, all color left it. She took the paper from his hand. Jonas Gray did not steal the money. Ask the Duke who did. Eveina slowly raised her eyes.

Adrienne was no longer angry. He was afraid. And behind her, at the library door, Viola had appeared. She had heard enough. Her voice shook. You knew. Adrienne said nothing. Viola stepped into the room. You knew my brother was innocent. Silence. Where is Jonas? Still Adrien said nothing. Then Viola asked the question that ended the 11th day with all three of them staring at one another differently.

If Jonas did not steal the money, her eyes fixed on Adrien. What did he discover that made someone need him to disappear for several seconds? Nobody answered Viola. The library fire cracked softly. Outside, rain pressed against the tall windows of Harkort House. Adrienne stood beside the desk with the anonymous message still in his hand.

Jonas Gray did not steal the money. Ask the Duke who did. Viola stepped closer. You knew. Adrienne’s expression hardened. Yes. The answer stunned even Eveina. Viola stared at him. You allowed my brother’s name [music] to be destroyed when you knew he was innocent. I allowed people to believe what they were already prepared to believe. That is not an answer.

It is the only one you are getting tonight. Viola laughed. There was no amusement in it. For 2 years, I believe Jonas ran because he was guilty. Adrien said nothing. For 2 years, my mother refused to speak his name. Still nothing. And you knew. Adrienne finally looked at her. I knew the money was not taken by Jonas. Then who took it? I don’t know.

Viola stepped closer. You expect me to believe that? Yes. Why? Because if I knew, Jonas would not still be missing. That stopped her. Eveina studied her husband. What did Jonas discover? Adrien looked toward the fire, then toward the locked library doors. When he spoke again, his voice was lower.

Jonas worked beneath the senior steward on the northern estate. He was good with figures. Too good. Viola said nothing. During the annual accounts, he found several transfers that made no sense. How much? More than 8,000. Viola frowned. You said 8,000 disappeared. 8,000 was what people noticed. Eveina’s eyes narrowed and the rest.

Adrienne looked at her. Hidden where? Across different accounts. Biola whispered. So Jonas found theft. Perhaps. Perhaps. He wrote to me requesting a private meeting. Did you meet him? No. Why? Because he disappeared the night before. Viola’s anger returned and afterward you announced that he had stolen the money. Adrienne’s jaw tightened.

I announced nothing. You allowed your steward to say it. Yes. Why? Adrienne stepped closer to her. Because whoever frightened Jonas into running needed to believe I had accepted the lie. Viola stared at him. Eveina understood first. You were trying to make the real thief comfortable. Yes. for 2 years? For as long as necessary.

Viola shook her head. You searched for him? Adrienne hesitated. That hesitation was enough. You did? Yes. Where? London, Bristol, Portsouth, Edinburgh. And you never told me. You were not entitled to my investigation. My brother disappeared. and you were sleeping with the man investigating him while searching his desk behind his back.

Viola’s face hardened. Eveina cut between them. Enough. Both turned toward her. We have 11 days of messages from someone who knows private things about all three of us. She looked at Adrien. They know about Jonas. Then Viola. They know why you came. Then back at Adrien and they know you lied. Adrienne folded the note.

Which means someone in this house has had access to information they should not possess. Viola said quietly. Or someone outside it has. That possibility remained with Eveina long after the library emptied. The next morning brought no envelope. Neither did the next. And somehow that was worse. By day 13, Harkour house had become a place of suspicion. Servants whispered less.

Doors were locked sooner. Bellamy kept careful lists of everyone entering and leaving. Adrienne inspected his own correspondents before anyone touched it. Viola spent hours in the old estate record room and Eveina began watching everybody, especially Viola. On the morning of day 14, another envelope appeared.

This time beneath Eveina’s napkin. She stared at it before touching it. Day 14. Adrienne watched her. Viola leaned forward. Well, Eveina opened it. The Duchess knows more than she remembers. Inside was another folded sheet. Eveina opened that, too. Then her stomach tightened. It was a copy of one of her own letters, 3 years old, written to her younger brother, Damian.

She read the relevant lines twice. You asked whether Adrien employs a clerk by the name of Gray. I believe there is such a man in one of the northern offices, though I cannot imagine why that should matter to you. Eveina went still. Viola noticed immediately. What? Eveina handed her the page. Viola read it, then looked up.

You knew Jonas? No, you wrote his name. I had forgotten this entirely. Adrien took the copy. Why was Damian asking about him? I don’t know. Adrienne looked at her. You correspond with your brother frequently. Not about clerks. You must remember something. I remember Damian asking whether you employed someone named Gray. That is all.

Viola stared at her. When 3 years ago before Jonas disappeared. Yes. Viola’s suspicion sharpened. And you forgot? Eveina’s voice cooled. Do not make the mistake of confusing forgotten correspondence with conspiracy. Viola leaned back. I have learned not to dismiss either. That night, Eveina searched through old letters from Damian.

She found nothing, but the question troubled her. Why had Damian known Jonas’s name a full year before his disappearance? She slept badly. At dawn, she heard servants arguing outside Viola’s chamber. Eveina hurried into the corridor. Viola stood in the doorway holding a wooden box. Her face was pale. What happened? Viola looked toward the servants. Leave us. Nobody moved.

Eveina nodded. They left. Viola carried the box inside and locked the door, then opened it. 11 white envelopes lay within. Eveina stared. What are those messages? I can see that they began arriving before I came here. Eveina looked at her sharply. How long before? 6 weeks. Silence. You hid this? Yes.

Why? Because every person in this house hides things. Eveina almost slapped her instead. She picked up the first envelope. You want to know what happened to Jonas? The second. Adrien Harkort will never tell you voluntarily. The third, if you want the truth, enter his house. The fourth, he will never invite you. Make certain he does. Eveina slowly looked at Viola.

You did not invent the invitation. I forged it. That is not what I said. Viola looked at the letters. No, the truth was worse. Someone had planted the idea. Viola believed she had manipulated Adrien, but somebody had manipulated Viola first. Eveina opened another. 30 days will be enough. Her pulse quickened. Why 30? Viola shook her head.

I thought it referred to the annual account records. Perhaps it did. Perhaps. Eveina held up the letter. Or perhaps whoever wrote this knew you would assume that. Viola looked suddenly uneasy. Eveina opened two more. Your brother is alive. Then do not trust the Duke. And the last. Do not trust the Duchess either. Eveina lowered the paper.

Viola said quietly. That one arrived the morning I left London. And you still came. Yes. Why? Viola looked at her. Because if Jonas is alive, I would have walked into hell for a chance to find him. Eveina did not answer. For the first time, she understood something she did not want to understand. Viola was reckless, dishonest, manipulative.

But the obsession driving her had nothing to do with Adrien, and that made her more dangerous, not less. Day 16 brought the next instruction. It was waiting inside Adrienne’s locked desk. Bellamy swore the desk had not been opened. Adrien believed him. Eveina was less certain. The note read, “The answer began where the old winter coats were left.” Adrienne frowned.

Viola said, “The storage rooms. They searched for hours. Nothing.” Then Eveina remembered a small unused cloak room above the old servant staircase. The room smelled of dust and cedar. Three broken trunks sat against one wall. Several ancient coats hung beneath sheets. Viola searched the pockets one by one, then froze. Adrien.

She pulled out a dark wool coat. Old worn. Inside the collar, faded initials had been sewn by hand. JG. Viola’s fingers began trembling. That was Jonas’s. You are certain? Eveina asked. My mother stitched initials into everything he owned. Adrienne took the coat. The pockets were empty. Then Eveina noticed the lining. Wait.

One section had been restitched. Adrienne produced a small knife. He opened the seam. Tiny scraps of paper spilled onto the floor. Dozens of them. Numbers. Dates. Account references. Initials. Eveina knelt. Adrienne crouched beside her. Viola picked up one piece. What are these? Adrienne answered. Transfers. To whom? I don’t know.

Eveina found one set of initials repeated several times. DF. Her blood ran cold. Adrienne noticed her face. What? She handed him the scrap. He read it, then looked up. Damen Fenwick. Viola stared at Eveina. Your brother. Eveina said nothing. That afternoon they sent no message to Damian. They did not need to. At half 6, a carriage arrived.

Lord Damian Fenwick stepped from it, smiling as though nothing in the world were wrong. Eveina watched from an upstairs window. How did he know to come? Adrien stood behind her. He shouldn’t downstairs. Damen kissed his sister’s cheek. What a gloomy welcome. What brings you here? business nearby. What business? Must I account for every mile I travel? Viola entered.

Damian’s smile vanished only for a second, but everyone saw it. Viola extended her hand. Miss Viola Gray. I know. Silence. Viola tilted her head. We have met. No. Then how do you know me? Damian recovered. London knows everyone eventually. Viola smiled. Of course. At dinner, she tested him. My brother Jonas worked for the Duke in 1812. Damian looked up.

1814. The correction came automatically. Viola did not blink. Eveina felt something drop inside her chest. Damian realized too late. He reached for his wine. “You remember him remarkably well for a man you barely knew,” Viola said. I remember dates. You remember clerks? When they steal thousands? Yes. Adrienne’s eyes sharpened.

Eveina looked at her brother. Who told you Jonas stole anything? Damian hesitated. Before he could answer, Bellamy entered carrying a white envelope. Everyone froze. I found this outside the dining room door. Your grace. Adrienne took it. Day 18. He opened the note. The wrong man just arrived. Nobody spoke. Damen laughed nervously.

I assume this nonsense has an explanation. No one answered him. That night, Eveina stood outside Damen’s room listening. Nothing. She hated herself for doing it, but she listened anyway. On day 20, Adrienne finally showed her something he had hidden for 2 years. Reports. Dozens of them. Jonas Gray in London. Jonas possibly seen near Portsouth.

A man matching his description boarding [music] a coach toward Edinburgh. Payments to investigators. Letters to ins private inquiries. Eveina looked at Adrien. You truly searched for him? Yes. Why hide this? Because every person I questioned eventually stopped speaking. Threatened or paid. Viola entered before he could say more.

She saw the reports. Read them. Then found one line. Last confirmed contact. Lord Damian Fenwick. She went completely still. Eveina looked at Adrien. Why did you never tell me? Because I did not know whether your brother [music] was protecting Jonas or helping someone hunt him. Eveina turned toward Viola. Viola was already moving.

They found Damian in the billiard room. Viola slammed the report onto the table. You saw Jonas. Damen looked at the page, then at Eveina once. When the week he disappeared, Viola stepped closer. What did he want? Money. For what? To leave England. Why? He would not say. Where did he go? I don’t know. Viola stared at him. You are lying.

Damian looked at Eveina. Do you believe her over your own brother? Eveina’s answer was quiet. I believe the person who answers questions. Damian’s face changed, but he said nothing more. On day 22, Viola screamed. Everyone ran. Her chamber door stood open. The bed was covered with paper. Every anonymous letter she had hidden, not copies, the originals, even the ones she had left locked inside a writing box in London across the mirror in black ink. Stop looking for Jonas.

Viola stared at it, then whispered, “I am leaving.” Eveina looked at her now. “Yes, you refused to leave 2 days ago. I have changed my mind because someone entered your London rooms. Viola looked at her sharply. Eveina continued. Whoever is doing this has been ahead of you from the beginning. Viola’s face tightened. I am not afraid.

You are terrified. Silence. Then Eveina said, “And perhaps you should be.” Viola looked toward the mirror. If I stay, what happens? Eveina answered. That is precisely what someone wants to find out. On day 24, suspicion shifted again. The handwriting on several anonymous envelopes resembled Adrienne’s. Not perfectly, but close.

Viola noticed something else. A phrase. Make yourself useful. She looked across the breakfast table. Adrienne had said those exact words to Bellamy twice that week. She waited until evening before confronting him. You wrote them. Adrienne stared at her. No, you use that phrase. So do hundreds of men.

You knew about Jonas. Yes, you kept me here. Yes, you recognized the forged invitation, didn’t you? Silence. Viola’s eyes widened. You did, Adrienne finally said. The tail of the H was wrong. Eveina stared at him. You knew from the beginning? I suspected. And still you allowed her inside. Yes. Why? Adrienne opened a drawer, removed a folded piece of paper, placed it on the desk. His own anonymous message.

Let her in. Keep her 30 days. If she leaves early, you will never know what happened to Jonas Gray. Viola stared at him. For the first time, all three understood. None of them had created the month. They had only been made to believe they had. Day 28 brought the worst message yet. The person who knows where Jonas is will sit at your table on the 30th night.

Adrien immediately arranged the final dinner. Only seven people. Eveina, Adrien, Viola, Damian, the estate solicitor, Mr. for Weatherbeby, two elderly relatives who had known the hardcourt finances for decades, and Bellamy. On the evening of day 29, Viola examined the original [music] forged invitation again. She held it near the lamp.

A faint watermark appeared. Hardcourt private stationery. Only three people regularly used that paper. Adrien, Eveina, Bellamy, Eveina looked toward Bellamy’s desk in the adjoining office. Viola whispered. Perhaps it was him. Then shook her head. No. What? Bellamy has served Adrien 11 years. Yes. Jonas disappeared 2 years ago.

Why would Bellamy care? Neither woman answered. A moment later, Bellamy entered carrying a tray. I was told you requested tea your grace. Eveina turned. No. Bellamy set it down. His coat sleeve pulled back slightly. Viola stopped breathing. There was a scar around his wrist. A pale crescent. She stared at it.

Bellamy noticed. He pulled his sleeve down. Miss Gray. Viola forced a smile. Nothing. But when he left, she ran. Eveina followed. Viola locked her bedroom door, then opened a small traveling case and pulled out an old miniature portrait. A young man stared from beneath cracked glass. She held it toward the candle.

Eveina looked. Around the young man’s wrist was the same crescent-shaped scar. “Jonas?” Eveina whispered. Viola nodded, then frowned. “No.” “What?” She turned the miniature over. Something had been written beneath the frame. Two faded initials. “Not JG, MG.” Viola stared at them, her face drained of color.

Eveina whispered, “Who is MG?” Viola looked toward the door Bellamy had just passed through and said, “My brother Matias.” Eveina frowned. “You have another brother?” Viola’s voice shook. “I had one. What happened to him?” “My mother told us he died when I was a child.” Both women went silent because Bellamy had served Adrien for 11 years.

Jonas had disappeared only 2 years earlier and the man in the miniature was not Jonas. Viola looked at Eveina. If Bellamy is Matias, a knock sounded at the door. Three slow knocks. Three slow knocks. Neither woman moved. Then Bellamy’s voice came from the corridor. Miss Gray. Viola gripped Eveina’s arm. Bellamy continued.

His grace requests your presence downstairs. A pause. Tomorrow is the 30th night. Viola did not answer Bellamy. Neither did Eveina for several seconds. The only sound inside the bedroom was the rain against the windows. Then Bellamy knocked again. Miss Gray. Viola looked at Eveina. Her face had changed completely. The woman who had walked into Harkort house with eight trunks and enough confidence to insult a duchess at her own breakfast table was gone.

In her place stood someone staring at a memory she did not understand. Eveina lowered her voice. Do not tell him what we found. Viola nodded. She slipped the miniature back into the traveling case. Then opened the door. Bellamy stood outside, perfectly composed, his dark coat buttoned to the throat, his expression unreadable, his grace is waiting.

Viola looked deliberately at his wrist. Bellamy noticed. Nothing changed in his face. Eveina stepped between them. Tell my husband we will join him shortly. Bellamy bowed. Of course, your grace. Then he walked away. Viola waited until his footsteps disappeared. That is him. You do not know that. I know that scar. You were a child when Matias supposedly died.

I remember more than my mother thought. Eveina turned. What? Viola’s breathing had quickened. There was a fire. What fire? At our old house. I was perhaps five. She closed her eyes. I remember Matias carrying me outside. Eveina waited. He burned his wrist on the iron latch. Viola looked toward the corridor. The scar was shaped like a crescent.

If Bellamy truly was Matias Gray, then he had been standing within feet of Viola for an entire month while she searched for another brother and had said nothing. The question was no longer whether Bellamy knew something. It was how much. The next morning, Bellamy was gone. Not dismissed. Gone. His room contained no luggage, no letters, no portrait, not even an old pair of boots.

Adrienne stood inside the empty room looking angrier than Eveina had seen him all month. He has served me for 11 years. Viola searched the drawers. Apparently, he planned to leave without memories. Adrienne turned. What are you suggesting? Eveina placed the miniature on the table. Adrienne looked at it, then at the initials, MG.

Viola said, “Matias Gray, my oldest brother.” Adrienne stared at her. You told me Jonas was your only brother. I believed Matias dead. Bellamy is not named Gray. Neither is a man trying not to be found. Adrienne picked up the portrait. For the first time, uncertainty entered his face. I hired Bellamy 11 years ago. How? Eveina asked.

He came recommended by a solicitor in York. Which solicitor? Adrienne stopped. Viola answered for him. Weatherbe. Adrienne looked at her. Yes. Silence. That changed everything. Mr. Weatherbe had managed hardcourt legal affairs for 25 years. He had known Adrienne’s father. He had handled estate transfers, settlements, loans, private accounts, and he had recommended Bellamy, Eveina said.

Then perhaps this did not begin when Jonas disappeared. Adrienne looked toward the empty room. No, it began much earlier. By noon, old account books covered the library table. Adrienne compared transfers. Eveina compared dates. Viola searched names. Slowly, a pattern appeared. Money had vanished from hardcourt accounts, but not once. Hundreds here, 2,000 there.

Then money returned under different descriptions. Land repairs, tenant compensation, horse purchases, legal fees. The same pattern appeared in copies of accounts from two neighboring estates. Viola whispered. This has been happening for years. More than a decade, Adrienne said. Jonas discovered it. Yes. Eveina looked at him. And Bellamy.

Adrienne did not answer because that was the problem. If Bellamy had helped steal the money, why spend weeks guiding them toward the theft? If he had not, why disappear before the final night? At 6:00, the final envelope arrived. Not at the door, not beneath a plate. Adrien found it inside his locked strong box.

Nobody spoke while he opened it. Day 30. Tonight, the person who made Jonas disappear will believe they have won. Let them. Below that, 11:40. Viola looked at the clock. 5 hours. The final dinner began at 9. Seven places had been prepared, but Bellamy’s chair remained empty. Mr. Weatherbe arrived first, gay-haired, soft-spoken, carrying the expression of a man mildly inconvenienced by family drama.

Then Damian, he had attempted to leave Harkort that morning. Adrien had stopped him. Two elderly Harkort relatives completed the table. Dinner began. Nobody ate much. At 9, Viola deliberately asked, “Mr. Weatherbe, how long have you known Bellamy?” The solicitor dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

“Many years you recommended him to his grace.” “I believe I did.” “Where did you meet him?” “York.” “What was his name then?” Weatherbe paused. “Bellamy.” Viola smiled slightly. “Of course.” Damen stared at his plate. Eveina noticed. Damian. Her brother looked up. What? You know something? No. You have been frightened since you arrived.

I am tired. Then lie better. Weather be shifted. Your grace. Perhaps this is not suitable conversation for dinner. Eveina looked at him. For 29 days, suitable conversation has been the least of my concerns. At 10:15, a servant entered carrying a silver tray. There was another envelope. Viola whispered. No. Adrienne opened it.

Ask the duchess who paid her brother’s debts. Then beneath it, ask whose money it was. Eveina slowly turned toward Damian. His face went white. Years earlier, Damian had accumulated gambling debts. Thousands. He told Eveina their father had settled them before his death, but their father had barely been able to maintain [music] Fenwick house.

She had never questioned it until now. Damian, he pushed back his chair. This is absurd. Who paid your debts? Our father? He could not. You know nothing about his finances. I know enough. Adrienne leaned forward. Answer her. Damen looked around the table. Then at Weatherbe. That glance lasted half a second. It was enough. Viola saw it.

So did Eveina. Weatherbee’s expression remained calm. Damian whispered. I borrowed money. From whom? Eveina asked. No answer. From whom? Damian shut his eyes. Weatherbe. Nobody moved. The solicitor gave a sad little smile. Lord Damian was young. Foolish, I assisted him. Damian suddenly laughed. Assisted? Weatherbee’s smile disappeared.

You told me to move money through accounts because nobody would notice. Careful. You said it was temporary. Weatherbee’s voice hardened. Damian, you said the money would be replaced. Adrienne stood. Jonas discovered those transfers. Damian looked at him. Yes. Viola’s chair scraped backward. Then you knew Jonas. Damen nodded.

Her voice broke. What happened to him? I don’t know. You saw him the week he disappeared. Yes. What did he tell you? Damian swallowed. He knew someone had been moving money for years. Who? Damen looked at Weatherbe. Before he could answer, every candle on the western side of the dining room went out. Someone screamed. A door slammed.

Adrienne shouted for the servants. Then a voice came from the doorway. Do not light them yet, Bellamy. Viola stood so quickly her chair fell. Bellamy entered the room alive. Calm, holding a leather folio. Mr. Weatherbe stared at him, not with surprise, with hatred. Bellamy looked at Viola. Sit down. Viola backed away.

No, Viola. She froze. He had never used her Christian name before. Her face crumpled. You are Matias. Bellamy said nothing. That silence was answer enough. Viola took another step backward. Then something strange happened. She grabbed Eveina’s hand hard. Please. Eveina turned. Viola’s eyes were fixed on Mus. Let me leave. Eveina stared at her.

What? Please. The word came out almost childlike. Let me leave this house. Why? Viola’s grip tightened. Because I know him, Matias said quietly. You knew a boy. Viola shook her head. No, I knew the man who came to me after Adrienne ended our affair. Adrienne turned sharply. What? Viola looked at everyone. He found me in London.

Her voice trembled. He said he knew how I could find Jonas. Matias did not deny it. He taught me how Adrienne wrote his letters. Eveina slowly understood. The forged invitation. Viola nodded. It was his idea. She looked at Matias with horror. I thought it was mine. Matias took one step forward. Viola moved behind Eveina.

Please, she whispered again. Do not make me stay to hear why he brought me here. Eveina looked at her. Then at Adrien, then Damian, Weatherbeby, Matias. For 30 days, every one of them had hidden something. Everyone had decided what she should know, what she should believe, whom she should hate. “No,” Viola stared. Eveina released her hand.

“You are not leaving.” Biola looked betrayed. Then Eveina continued. Not because he commands it. She looked at Adrien. Not because my husband commands it. Then at Matias. And not because some anonymous letter commands it. She pulled Viola’s fallen chair upright. You came for the truth. Her voice hardened.

Sit down and hear it. Viola slowly sat. Matias placed the folio on the table. My name is Matias Gray. He looked at Viola. Our father was not my father. Viola’s eyes filled. When he discovered that, he sent me away. Mother told you I died because she was ashamed to admit what happened. You could have come back. I did.

When? Years later. Why didn’t you tell us? Because by then I had discovered something useful about being a man no one expected to exist. Matias opened the folio. Inside were copied accounts, signatures, transfers, names. Weatherbe has been moving money through noble estates for 15 years. Weatherbe rose. This is madness. Matias continued.

Small amounts, different accounts, enough distance between them that no household noticed the full pattern. Adrien looked at the records. Jonas discovered it. Yes. Then where is he? Alive. Viola made a broken sound. Nobody else moved. Matias looked at her. Jonas is alive. Tears immediately filled her eyes. Where? Scotland.

Why did you hide him? Because Weatherbe learned he had copied part of the accounts. Weatherbe snapped. Lies. Matias turned. You followed him to Damian. Damian flinched. You offered Damian money to tell you where Jonas had gone. Damian whispered. I refused. Matias nodded. For once. Viola looked at Matias. Then all these letters mine. All of them. Nearly.

Why? Because direct evidence kept disappearing. Witnesses became silent. Account books burned. I needed Weatherbe frightened enough to move. Eveina understood. You made him believe Jonas’s evidence was somewhere inside Harkort. Yes, you brought Viola here. Yes, you made Adrien suspicious. Yes, you frightened Damian.

Yes, and while everyone searched for Jonas, Weatherbe began destroying whatever he thought could expose him. Matias opened another section of the folio. Dates. Witness statements. A servant had seen Weatherbe enter Viola’s chamber. Another had seen him remove papers from the estate room. A clerk had caught him attempting to burn an old ledger.

Weatherbe looked toward the door. Adrienne smiled without warmth. Do not. Two magistrates entered. Behind them stood a constable. Weatherbee’s face collapsed. Damen covered his eyes, but Eveina was not finished. She turned to Matias. You used my house? Yes. My marriage? Yes. My humiliation. Matias looked at Adrien. No. Eveina frowned.

The invitation I instructed Viola to forge told her to remain at Hardcourt for 30 days. Silence. It did not say you were required to host her. Everyone looked at Adrien. Eveina’s face changed slowly. You added that. Adrienne said nothing. Why? His jaw tightened. Because Viola had manipulated me. Eveina stared.

And And you had barely spoken to me for months. So I was angry. The truth was so small compared with all the mystery surrounding it that Eveina almost laughed. He had not forced her to host Viola because of some clever plan. Not because of Weatherbe. Not because of Jonas. He had done it because he was hurt and proud.

Adrienne continued, “I thought if Viola entered this house, you would finally stop pretending my affair meant nothing.” Eveina stared at him. “You wanted jealousy. I wanted a reaction. So, you gave my dignity to another woman and waited to see whether I would fight for it.” Adrienne’s face fell. Eveina removed the heavy ring of household keys from her waist, placed them on the table, then pushed them toward him.

For 30 days, every person in this room has arranged my life as though I were furniture. Nobody spoke. You decided what I should know. She looked at Matias, who I should distrust. Damian lowered his eyes, what I should forgive. Then she looked at Adrien and how much humiliation would finally force me to perform for you.

She stepped away from the table. That ends tonight. By midnight, Weatherbe had been taken away. Damen agreed to testify in exchange for facing the consequences of his own involvement. Matias promised to bring Jonas home when it was safe. and Viola packed again, but this time she carried only one small case downstairs. At the entrance, she looked at Eveina.

I entered this house thinking you were the obstacle. Eveina raised an eyebrow. To what? To Adrien. To his papers. To the truth. I am no longer sure. Eveina looked toward the staircase. And I thought you were simply the woman who had taken something from me. Viola gave a sad smile. Was I? Yes. The answer surprised her. Eveina continued.

But not what I thought. Viola nodded. No friendship was declared. No embrace. But when Viola entered the carriage, Eveina stood beneath the doorway until it disappeared. Adrienne joined her. Will you leave too? Yes. For how long? I don’t know. Eveina. She turned. He looked more frightened now than he had when the letters began.

Can I repair this? She studied him. You ended your affair months ago. Yes. But you believed betrayal ended when Viola left your bed. Adrienne said nothing. It did not. The next morning, Eveina left Harkort House in daylight. Not secretly, not fleeing. Her carriage departed through the main gates while Adrienne stood on the front steps.

3 weeks later, a letter arrived at Fenwick house from Jonas Gray. Eveina read it beside the fire. Jonas was alive. He would return soon. He thanked her for keeping Viola inside Harkord on the final night. Had Viola left before Weatherbe exposed himself, years of work might have been lost. At the bottom was one final sentence.

Eveina read it twice. Then again, there is one thing you should know. Matias sent 29 messages during that month, not 30. Eveina sat upright. She had kept every envelope. She counted them. 30. Her hands slowed. She found day 10. There are three liars at this table. She turned it over. There, almost invisible in one corner, was a tiny mark.

a private hardcourt cipher. She had seen Adrienne use it on confidential letters. Eveina stared at the page. He had written this one, not Matias, not Weatherbe, not Viola, Adrien. Which meant that even after he knew someone was manipulating the house, he had added one manipulation of his own just to watch what happened. Eveina folded the paper carefully, then placed it beside the fire, but she did not burn it. Not yet.

For nearly a month, everyone had been asking what Adrienne Harkort knew. For the first time, Eveina found herself asking a different question. What would she do now that she knew exactly who her husband was?