The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Henry and Charlie were subjected to a grueling hour of questioning by the officers at the local police booth.

”Because of the negligence of you two, the damage has spread to other lives as well. How do you intend to compensate for it?” the inspector demanded in a stern tone.

”Sir, we have already told you that we did nothing wrong. As for the damages, we are willing to compensate those families,” Charlie answered, shifting uncomfortably as a sharp ache shot through the burn wound on his arm.

”Kitchen altars do not simply explode without cause. Something far more sinister has occurred here, and you ought to be investigating that instead.”

Henry remained entirely silent, well aware that the inspector had no intention of listening to reason.

This was the third time since morning that the man had come to take their statements, making it glaringly obvious that he was determined to pin the blame for the fire on them.

”Lower your voice,” the inspector warned, glaring at Charlie. ”I have handled far more cases in my lifetime than you could imagine. Do you truly believe this is the first time a fire has occurred? It is almost always the owners of such establishments who are behind these incidents.”

”I agree, but I am telling you the fire altars alone could not have caused such destruction. There must be foul play involved, officer,” Charlie insisted.

Without another word, the inspector rose to his feet. He turned on his heel and strode out of the hospital room, leaving the heavy door to swing shut behind him.

Outside in the corridor, Xenia quickly rushed up to him, her face pale with worry. ”Did you find out who was behind the explosion in the kitchen, sir?”

”What explosion? It was started by your brothers’ own carelessness,” the inspector dismissed curtly, brushing past her as his officers followed close behind.

”How could he say such a thing?” Xenia muttered, her eyes burning with frustration.

”Calm down, Xenia. Nothing will happen to our brothers,” her fourth brother replied softly, trying to soothe her temper.

”It certainly does not feel that way, Brother,” Xenia countered, her mind racing. She briefly considered seeking out Lord August, but the memory of his cold demeanor earlier halted her.

He had denied any involvement or obligation, which, in truth, was hardly surprising. Why would a member of the nobility bother helping commoners like them?

”Go home for now. You ought to be with Lara,” her fifth brother suggested, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Nodding quietly, Xenia handed over the tin of dinner she had carried for them and turned to leave.

Yet as she walked through the dimming streets, her feet betrayed her intent.

Instead of taking the path toward her house, she found herself heading directly toward the rest house where August was staying.

Unable to bring herself to step inside the rest house, Xenia remained waiting outside, leaning heavily against the stone wall.

She took a deep breath, tapping the toe of her shoe rhythmically against the dirt ground to vent her nervous energy.

’My brothers’ lives are hanging by a thread,’ she thought, her stomach twisting into knots. ’What if they are found guilty of a crime they never committed? I need to act, yet I am completely at a loss as to what I can actually do.’

Suddenly, a thought struck her.

The Duke and Duchess of Varos could help her.

She had heard the local town people mention that the couple were known to hear the grievances of any commoners who sought their aid.

”Why did I not think of this sooner?” she gasped aloud, her eyes widening as renewed hope cut through her desperation. She stood straight, deciding to travel for Varos early in the morning.

As she turned to leave, a fine wooden carriage rolled to a sudden halt right in front of her.

The coachman promptly scrambled down to open the door, and August stepped out onto the cobblestones.

Xenia froze in fluster at his unexpected appearance, her heart skipping a beat as their eyes met. She immediately offered him a quick, respectful bow.

”What are you doing here?” August asked, a parchment scroll resting in his grasp.

”It is nothing, Your Highness,” Xenia murmured, dipping into another hasty bow as she halted her steps.

”I know who can help me. The Duke and Duchess of Varos. I intend to see them tomorrow,” Xenia added, desperation pushing the words from her lips.

”Then allow me to extinguish your hopes,” August replied flatly. ”They are not in Varos.”

”What?” Xenia gasped, feeling as though the ground had vanished beneath her feet. They were her final resort.

”I believe I mentioned this before. They are absent from Varos and will not return for at least another month. Making the journey there now is entirely useless,” August affirmed.

”Your Highness, what am I to do then? The inspector is determined to declare my brothers guilty. Will you truly offer us no justice at all? I swear upon my life they would never commit such a crime. Anyone can see they were severely burned themselves,” Xenia pleaded, tears welling in her eyes.

”Do not fret,” August pronounced. ”Justice will be served, and the true culprits shall be brought to light. Go home and take some rest. Tomorrow is going to be tiring for you.”

He began to walk past her, but before he could take more than a few steps, Xenia reached out and hastily caught the edge of his sleeve.

August halted immediately, turning his head to look down at her hand. Realizing what she had done, Xenia released her grip at once, snatching her fingers back in dismay.

”Will Your Highness truly help us?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she held his gaze.

”I would not have given my word were there any room for doubt,” August answered.

Xenia felt the suffocating weight in her chest finally lift, a profound sense of relief washing over her. ”Your Highness, your reassurance brings me great peace. Thank you for everything.”

She bowed deeply to him before turning and hurrying back toward her home. Her felt lighter and calmer than before.

~~~~~

The next morning, Maurice returned after spending the night pursuing the stranger who had delivered the cryptic letter written in Damian’s name.

”Your Grace, as per your order, I have tracked down the man who left the letter at the cottage,” Maurice reported, stepping into the courtyard.

”Bring him forward,” Damian commanded. He sat in the garden alongside Eilika, his tone cool and composed.

Maurice motioned toward the surrounding guards, who promptly dragged a man dressed in threadbare, shabby clothes into the sunlight. They forced him down to his knees before the Duke.

”Your Grace, please forgive me! I only did what I was paid to do. I swear I know nothing of the contents within the letter!” the man whimpered, trembling beneath their grips.

”Do not lie to me,” Damian stated, his deep blue eyes narrowing. ”You located a hidden cottage whose existence is known to only a trusted few.”

”Your Grace, I was merely instructed to drop the letter there! I did it for the money. I swear I am telling the truth!” the man begged, pressing his forehead directly into the stone ground as he pleaded for mercy.

”Who told you about this cottage?” Eilika asked, stepping closer. ”Did you see the person who hired you? Give us a description.”

”The man... he was quite tall with sharp brown eyes, Your Grace. He had a thick beard, though he could not have been more than thirty years old.

Judging by the fine cut of his clothes, he clearly came from a wealthy background,” the man explained hurriedly, eager to save himself.

”You must give me a far more detailed description. I intend to draw a sketch,” Eilika stated, her tone firm.

Damian turned his head toward her, his brow arching slightly in concern. ”Will that not tire you? I can easily hire a professional artist for this.”

”I prefer that no outsiders learn of this matter,” Eilika countered. ”Besides, you must leave shortly for your duties, and I grow bored remaining here with nothing to occupy my time. It is far better if I stay involved.”

”I agree with Her Grace,” Maurice added, bowing his head respectfully toward Damian.

”Very well. You may sketch the man as he describes him,” Damian agreed, before fixing a sharp gaze upon the captive. ”You had best not lie. If I catch even a sliver of deceit in your words, your punishment will be severe.”

”No, Your Grace! I would never dare lie to you!” the man promised hastily, bowing his head back down to the ground.

”Maurice, you will remain here with the Duchess. I shall return by the afternoon,” Damian stated, adjusting the dark cloak over his shoulders.

”By then, I hope to have the sketch completed,” Eilika answered, offering him a faint, reassuring smile as she stood up to prepare her drawing materials.