CHAPTER 04. A Generous Guardian (1)

Returning to Crimsworth Court early Sunday morning, Bronwynner didn’t tell those waiting for her the details of what happened at school. In fact, Jeremy had already explained to them that Miss Pemberton had been caught up in an unfortunate incident due to a misunderstanding, but it had been resolved well.

Bronwynner guessed this was to protect Devon Whitman, who might become Lady Crimsworth in the future. In any case, he had rescued her from her predicament, so she had no objections.

Maude was deeply indignant about the unfair treatment she had suffered.

Countess Windell also seemed internally angry upon learning that Miss Pemberton, who came from the same region, had been looked down upon for that fact. Lennox nobles all had tremendous pride in their territories or hometowns.

“As you must know, Miss Pemberton, Goldenborough nobles are particularly wealthy among the kingdom’s nobility. Isn’t Goldenborough’s standard of living just as good as Whittingham’s? People who have never even visited Goldenborough always look down on it.”

Bronwynner didn’t remember well what Goldenborough was like, but she agreed, saying, “Of course.”

So throughout Sunday, Bronwynner received very special treatment. The two women refused to leave her side and took her to a nearby lake for a change of mood. Strangely, Jeremy accompanied them, which Bronwynner thought was probably because Seth had the day off and Count Farraway was in Whittingham.

Though he joined the outing, he didn’t participate in the three ladies’ conversation, but occasionally his eyes met Bronwynner’s. Each time, she avoided his gaze.

Monday morning, Maude insisted on accompanying Bronwynner all the way to Whittingham.

“I need to go tell that Whitman witch directly what it means to accept the Duke of Crimsworth’s ward at the school.”

Jeremy only allowed his sister to see Bronwynner off to Crimsworth Station. It seemed he had no intention of going along this time.

Bronwynner awkwardly greeted the man sitting in the hall so early in the morning.

“I’ll be going now, Lord Crimsworth. See you on the weekend.”

He merely nodded lightly.

Maude said to the back of her brother’s head,

“Why is he sitting out here since the crack of dawn if he’s going to be like that?”

On the way to the station, Maude continued to express her desire to teach “the Whitman witch and some nasty young ladies” a lesson.

“It’ll be a while before I enter society, but even so, I am Lady Maude Lovedale of Crimsworth. I might just ask Her Majesty the Queen to shut down that kind of school.”

“Maude.”

Countess Windell habitually tried to restrain the girl, but actually the countess herself seemed to want to hear more.

“Oh, instead of Her Majesty the Queen, should I speak to Her Highness the Princess…?”

“What kind of person is Princess Berenice?”

Bronwynner quickly changed the subject.

She remembered Crown Prince Reginald whom she had met at the theater. Silver hair and golden eyes representing the Lester royal family. Unlike the crown prince, Princess Berenice had difficulty with her legs and rarely engaged in outside activities, so her identity was virtually veiled from ordinary citizens.

Maude’s gray-silver eyes sparkled.

“She’s as nice as you, Miss Pemberton! Someday I’ll arrange for you two to meet. Oh, wait. You’ll be able to see her directly at the regular ball this time.”

“Noble young ladies who haven’t been presented to Her Majesty the Queen as ‘debutantes’ cannot attend palace banquets. However, since banquets always need new faces and gossip, Bronwynner had learned that usually, the week just before the regular ball, there is an event where noble maidens formally present themselves to Her Majesty the Queen. There were several students at the school preparing for their debut this time.

Of course, this had nothing to do with Bronwynner, as she was supposedly taking bride lessons to become a debutante in the fall season.

“I can’t go yet, Maude.”

“Then make your debut this time! Miss Pemberton, how old did you say you were?”

“I’ll be twenty-one soon.”

“Then autumn might be a bit late. Countess, when did you make your debut?”

“In the spring of the year I turned nineteen.”

Having answered thus, Countess Windell rang the carriage bell.

“We’re here! You need to get off here.”

The front of the station was extremely crowded with other carriages and passengers trying to buy train tickets. Maude wanted to buy coffee from the stand. Since the stand had always been closed whenever Bronwynner came to Crimsworth Station, she was curious too.

The stand sold coffee, bread, emergency medicine, sewing kits, and newspapers. Bronwynner looked carefully at the newspapers in the rack. The front page reported that the recent large-scale police checkpoint in the Whitepole area had come to nothing.

‘If I could get a Bathgate newspaper, I might find out what happened to Alec Bingham……’

Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

The problem was that newspapers were published by local newspaper companies and only read in those regions. Bronwynner also didn’t know where she could see past-dated newspapers.

‘What if I write to the newspaper company and ask them to send me previous issues……?’

If she asked for newspapers from not just the date of Alec Bingham’s death—or disappearance—but also for 2-3 weeks before and after, she wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

“Would you like some coffee too, Miss Pemberton?”

Maude asked. The coffee in mugs with lids was a specialty of Crimsworth Station, but it was quite expensive.

“Ah, no thank you.”

As they headed toward the platform, Maude continued to encourage Bronwynner’s entry into society.

“If you’re going to find a husband, the sooner the better. If you debut in spring, you can spend the summer……” The girl lowered her voice. “Having fun with gentlemen.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“What do you need to prepare? Just put on a pretty dress and greet Her Majesty the Queen once. Her Majesty pretends not to, but she loves receiving greetings from young ladies. Then in the Grand Hall of Whittingham Palace, a uniformed attendant will announce you like this.”

Maude waved her arms dramatically.

“Miss Bronwynner Pemberton of the Viscount Pemberton family of Goldenborough!”

As she did so, Maude accidentally bumped into a gentleman who was buying a newspaper. He was a fairly handsome, well-built young man. When he hurriedly removed his hat, disheveled black hair was revealed.

The man apologized.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss. Are you hurt?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m fine.”

“Are you alright, Maude?”

Bronwynner asked.

Over the nodding girl’s shoulder, she met the man’s eyes.

He was a man with strangely sharp eyes. He was staring intently at her hair, mostly hidden under her bonnet.

“Oh my, Miss Maude! If you burn your hand, I’ll be scolded again by Lord Crimsworth.”

Only when Seth, who had come with the luggage loaded on the train, squeezed between the two women did the man avert his gaze.

“Excuse me, then.”

“Miss Pemberton, shall we go? Lord Crimsworth specifically ordered a comfortable compartment to be reserved, so you’ll be able to enjoy good scenery throughout your journey.”

Seth said. Bronwynner smiled at Seth.

Thinking that her uneasy feeling was because she had to return to school after such an ordeal.

But even until she boarded the train, the man’s piercing gaze continued to linger in her mind.

* * *

⌜It’s definitely the umbrella I gave to Miss Harcourt.⌟

Miss Carter said, looking at the umbrella with a peacock head. The governess’s stern face hardened further, thinking the nanny had thrown away the umbrella she had given her.

⌜Oh, please don’t misunderstand. It was found among items stolen by a pickpocket. Miss Harcourt probably thinks she lost the umbrella on the train.⌟

⌜So Miss Harcourt took the train? Where did she go?⌟

⌜I cannot tell you that.⌟

While the investigation into Alec Bingham’s murder case was still struggling, Inspector Boris Curson encountered an unexpected stroke of luck.

The news that a habitual pickpocket who regularly stole from passengers on the Bathgate-Crimsworth line had finally been arrested had nothing to do with him as an inspector at Bathgate Station. However, the peacock-headed umbrella that the arrested thief claimed to have “stolen from a damn pretty redhead on a f*cking rainy day” definitely caught Curson’s attention.

He took the umbrella to show Miss Carter, the Bingham family governess. Sure enough, the umbrella had belonged to that red-headed nanny, Bronwynner Harcourt.

So that woman had boarded a train to Crimsworth the day after Alec Bingham was murdered.

It was impossible to check all the tickets purchased by third-class passengers, so the nanny’s destination remained a mystery. However, fugitives usually go to the capital, Whittingham. The large, complex city offers many places to hide.

He had heard the nanny was from Perth Orphanage and born in Goldenborough in the far north. He didn’t know why she had been sent to distant Perth instead of her hometown orphanage, but in any case, Curson now knew the nanny had no connections in her hometown or Perth. Having received confirmation from the governess, he headed back to Whittingham.

The murder case, which had initially seemed relatively simple, had reached an impasse.

First, the scene of Alec Bingham’s murder.

The week the body was discovered, police searched all suspicious buildings within a 50-mile radius of where the body was found. This was a conservative calculation of the distance, considering the estimated time of death and the maximum speed a carriage could travel in the rain, assuming the body had been moved by carriage.

From abandoned houses to barns, all places that normally saw little foot traffic were investigated, but since the area was forested, there weren’t many candidate sites to begin with. Among them was a two-story country-style house with a roof covered in beautiful ivy.

The house caretaker was adamant. He said the place was a vacation home owned by some actor from Whittingham, and that actor was backed by a noble lord far superior to any mere baron. He also claimed the vacation home had been consistently empty, so if something as noisy as a murder had occurred there, he would certainly have known.

They couldn’t break into someone else’s house, especially one connected to nobility, without a search warrant. Instead, Inspector Curson checked the property transaction register for the house at the registry office. And he discovered that Alec Bingham had bought the house a year ago and sold it to someone called “Tristan Autumn”—probably that actor—just a month ago.

He returned to the vacation home with a copy of that document. The caretaker reluctantly let the inspector in, but he was only allowed to briefly look around part of the first floor. The vacation home was decorated in the rustic cottage style currently fashionable among nobles. There was nothing suspicious, and since considerable time had passed since the incident, it didn’t seem likely they would find evidence now.

‘But if the new owner of the vacation home and Alec Bingham got into a fight here and an accident happened……’