Page 38

T wo days later, Bella took the first train out of Driftbell back to the port. She traveled alone. There was no one to accompany her and so she felt adrift in the sea of the crowd, her mind numb. She thought of sending a message to Dickens, but what good would that do? Leopold was likely still convalescing. And since she hadn’t told him anything about her father or the situation, it didn’t seem proper to include him.

She arrived mid-morning and disembarked the train. She dressed in a pale-yellow gown. But she didn’t want to fuss with her hair, so she left it down, tied at the nape with a matching yellow ribbon. Her bonnet shaded the morning sun from her eyes as she headed to the Hall of Justice which was near the docks. She did not relish the thought of testifying, but a little part of her looked forward to seeing her father once again. The last she heard from him was his letter. That seemed like an eternity ago.

A crowd loitered outside the stone building, likely waiting to get inside and hear the proceedings. The hum of voices melded with the sounds of the port—the calls of the seagulls, the clang of rigging on the ships in port, the boisterous laughter of sailors.

The small building had high arched windows to let in the light. The main double doors were carved from heavy oak with thick iron hinges that creaked when opened to let in the crowd. They surged forward, as though excited to see the proceedings. But all Bella felt was sick to her stomach as it twisted into a tight knot.

She went up the stone steps and entered, pausing inside the doorway to take in the old building. The high ceiling had wooden beams that stretched across in an arc. It smelled faintly of old wood, dust, and wax. Wooden benches lined the viewing gallery along the bottom floor. The men and women jockeyed for the best viewing position. Lifting her gaze, she saw more seating in the balcony area filling in with curious onlookers. The floor was polished granite, shining in the slashes of sunlight from the arched windows.

At the front of the room, a table and one empty chair—likely for her father—faced the magistrate’s dais, which was lifted high enough for him to cast his beady gaze at the defendant and into the gathering. Two constables on either side flanked the dais.

She swallowed hard and approached one of the constables. He gave her a disdainful yet questioning glance. She practically shoved the summons at him.

“I am Isabella Rinaldi and I’ve been summoned here today.”

He took the summons, read it over with a bored and annoyed look, then handed it back. He pointed to a seat behind the empty chair. “Sit over there.”

He was less than cordial, but Bella tried not to take it personally. She headed to the chair and paused there, her hands shaking. It felt as if every gaze was on her. She scanned the spectators and saw a familiar, youthful face peering back at her with wide, apologetic eyes. Emmaline. An older woman was with her and a girl that looked much like her. Her mother and sister. Bella granted her a smile, glad to see the girl, and nodded to acknowledger her presence.

As she was about to sit, another constable brought in her father, clutching him by the elbow and leading him to the empty chair in front of the dais.

Her heart banged hard as she watched him led to the chair. He looked old, haggard, with dark lines of fatigue under his eyes. For a moment, their gazes met. She saw the joy light in his eyes followed quickly by regret and misery. He didn’t want her there anymore than she wanted to be there. But she was there, and she was going to do everything within her power to free him from this sham.

The magistrate, dressed in black robes, banged his wooden gavel on the desk, the sound cracking through the small building.

“All be seated.”

His deep voice boomed across the crowd. As she sat, a familiar figure caught her eye. She glanced up and saw, much to her horror and dismay, Lord Vincent taking a seat across the aisle from her. He flashed her a smug grin as he settled on the edge of the chair, then pulled off his top hat and placed it in his lap.

She didn’t like this at all.

Not at all.

“I call this court to order,” the magistrate boomed. His eyes were focused on a stack of papers before him. “Proceedings herewith begin in the matter of Mr. Enzo Rinaldi, owner and merchant of the Rinaldi Trading Company. Allegations of illegal shipments, defying port authority, and a plot to traffic contraband are now under review and the purview of this court. are now under review and the purview of this court. He lifted his gaze, pinpointing her father. “How do you plead, sir?”

Her father straightened up to his full height. His face was pale but composed. “Not guilty, your honor.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

The magistrate glanced back down at his papers. “We begin with testimony from the petitioner, Lord Vincent Blackwell, who filed the complaint.”

Bella’s heart thudded painfully in her chest as her head snapped in his direction. How dare he. Disbelief followed by shock pounded through her as she stiffened in her chair, her gloved hands clenched so tight they ached.

Lord Vincent stood, not giving her a second glance. “The facts are simple, your honor. Two of Mr. Rinaldi’s ships were destroyed by a mysterious fire while the third was still out to sea carrying unlisted cargo of questionable origin. One in particular known to be cursed.”

She clenched her jaw. How did he know about that? The only viable explanation was Emmaline suspected and must have told him. He looked directly at Bella, then.

“His daughter, your honor, has possession of that cursed item.”

Saints preserve her. The loathing for the man shot through her in a hot, wild beat. More whispers swelled throughout the room. She shot to her feet, her mind working to come up with an explanation—any explanation—that was less condemning.

“My father had nothing to do with the book. He didn’t even know it was on board.”

Her father sucked in a sharp breath. “Bella, no.”

“Is that so?” Lord Vincent smirked, knowing the truth all too well.

“What was this object, Lord Vincent?” the magistrate asked.

“A book, your honor. A book of dark enchantment that was likely cursed. Why, every nobleman in port knows the girl can translate arcane languages. That she skulks around dusty libraries. She wanted the book for herself. She wanted to use it to cast dark spells.”

Fury boiled through her. “I did no such thing.”

But he was not to be dissuaded in his impassioned argument. “I saw the book myself. She conjured a beast with it. She is a witch, your honor.”

Gasps rippled through the gathering, followed by a rumbling of voices as the onlookers formed their own opinions of her.

“What?” The word burst through her before she realized what she was saying.

Her father leapt to his feet. “My daughter is no witch!”

“Silence.” The magistrate banged his gavel to calm the crowd.

“How dare you,” she muttered, her hands still clenched into tight fists.

But Lord Vincent continued. “What made you think you had the authority to remove and conceal an object of such power, Miss Rinaldi?”

“She acted on my authority.”

The familiar voice sent a tremor through her as her heart stopped. She turned, as did the entire court. Even Lord Vincent.

The man rose from the last row and stepped into the aisle. Straight-backed. Sure-footed. Pale brown eyes gleamed with control.

Leopold.

He walked toward the bench with quiet authority, his gaze never leaving that of the magistrate. He wore a dark high-collared coat, finely tailored. A thorn pattern trimmed the cuffs and collar in a muted silver thread catching the light. His waistcoat was equally tailored in dark charcoal with silver buttons lying flat against his frame. Perfectly pressed trousers, tall boots polished to a high shine. Not ostentatious. Not flashy.

High born. Royalty. An undeniable force.

And everyone in that room knew it. Especially Lord Vincent who glowered at him as he passed by to pause at the front of the room. He was so close to her, she caught the faint scent of roses lingering on his coat.

“And who are you, sir?” the magistrate asked.

“Leopold Thornhurst, your honor. Prince of the Southern Mountains. I can assure you Miss Rinaldi is no witch. Nor is Mr. Rinaldi a criminal. I claim full responsibility for the cursed item in question. If it can be called cursed.”

The magistrate lifted a brow. “Do you?”

The room fell into a deathly silence. Bella found it difficult to breathe. Here he was, the man she loved, standing here defending her honor and her father’s reputation. How did he know to be here? She hadn’t told him. She hadn’t told anyone. Not even Gerald.

“The book came into port at my behest. Miss Rinaldi removed it—quite reluctantly—at my persistent request. Her father had no knowledge of the item, either. If charges are to be brought, they should be brought against me.”

“You can’t be serious,” Lord Vincent scoffed. “The man’s a liar, your honor. He comes here touting a phony title. You cannot take his word over mine. Or hers . She’s clearly been swayed by some dark magic.”

Oh, how she despised that man. Leopold remained still and calm, unaffected by Lord Vincent’s outrageous accusation.

“I’ve seen the beast he becomes at night!” Lord Vincent snapped. “He’s dangerous. He’s a creature that should be locked away or put down. Not standing here pretending to be a highborn princeling.”

Leopold lifted a brow as he regarded the man with a cool expression. “You seem quite interested in my downfall, Lord Vincent. I wonder why that is? Perhaps my existence threatens you in some manner?”

Bella suppressed a smile that wanted to erupt. Her aching hands unclenched.

Vincent sneered. “You think she loves you ? She’ll come to her senses soon enough. And I’ll be the one here for her.”

“I already came to my senses, Lord Vincent,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion. “The moment I saw who you truly were.”

“Enough of this,” the magistrate snapped. “Sit down, Lord Vincent, or I shall call you in contempt.”

He banged his gavel to punctuate his point. Lord Vincent sat, fury smoldering in his eyes.

“Now, then.” He turned his gaze back to Leopold. “Is this book you have cursed?”

“Gods, no,” Leopold said with a chuckle. “Merely an old family heirloom an ancestor of mine created. He considered himself a bit of a linguist. He thought creating a language related to our lineage would be his legacy.” He laughed as though it were a family joke.

“And how did it end up on Mr. Rinaldi’s ship, your highness?”

Upon hearing your highness , Lord Vincent snorted derision.

But Leopold was not to be derailed. “It disappeared some centuries ago. Sold off by one of the servants for ten gold pieces. I’ve been searching for it my entire life. A book seller across the sea found it and sold it back to me. For a thousand gold pieces. Can you believe that?” He clucked his tongue at the exorbitant price.

Bella hid a smile behind her hand. She was impressed with how he wove the truth with the lie.

Leopold continued. “Your honor, I have nothing to gain by coming here. No title to restore. No favor to win. I came to speak the truth. Miss Rinaldi acted with courage and kindness. Not malice and certainly not with witchcraft. Her father is innocent of all charges.”

The magistrate sat back in his oversized chair, the wood creaking with his weight, silent. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he glanced down at the papers, shuffled them, straightened them. No doubt stalling as he came to a decision. Deathly silence pierced the room.

Finally, he said, “Lord Vincent, I find your testimony to be lacking substance. You have presented no evidence to prove to me or this court that Mr. Rinaldi is guilty of these heinous charges. Your personal grievances have no place here in my court.”

Lord Vincent’s mouth dropped open, as though he were prepared to object when the magistrate continued.

“The court, however, does recognize Prince Leopold’s testimony as valid. I hereby dismiss all charges.” His gaze swung back to the man sitting stiffly across from her. “As for you, Lord Vincent, any further public accusations will find you sitting on the other side of the law. I hope I make myself clear. Mr. Rinaldi, you are free to go.”

With that, he stood and stepped down off the dais and headed toward a door on the side of the court. The two constables followed. With the proceedings done, the disappointed spectators began to leave.

Bella’s breath exhaled in a rush. Her father was next to her an instant later, hugging her so hard it nearly crushed her. But she was happy for it. Because it meant he was a free man.

Lord Vincent rose stiffly from his chair and exited the building without giving her a sideways glance, every line of his body taut with fury.

Leopold watched him go, his keen eyes keeping him in sight until he was out of the building. When he was gone, Emmaline made her way toward Bella, shame burning in her face. Bella gave her a bright smile as she intercepted her, engaging her in a quick hug.

“Thank you for coming, Em,” she said.

“I’m ever so sorry, miss.”

“Whatever for?” she asked.

“I trusted him.” The girl jerked her head behind her, indicating the departing Lord Vincent. “I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let him coerce me into telling him things.”

Bella took the girl’s hands in hers and squeezed. “It’s all right. Don’t you fret. It’s over now and all turned out well.”

Emmaline cut a glance to Leopold, who remained standing behind her. “Yes, it did. I’m glad.”

“Me, too. And I’ll be glad to have you back at Hawthorne Hall. After you have a proper visit with your mum and sister, that is. Come whenever you’re ready.”

Her face lit with a mixture of relief and joy. “You mean that?”

“Indeed, I do.” Another squeeze of her hands and then she released her.

Emmaline bid her farewell and hurried back to join her family. Bella watched as they departed, glad to have reconciled with the girl. Then she straightened and turned to Leopold. Her heart swelled at the sight of him standing there, a half-smile on his handsome face. He looked well pleased.

“How did you like my performance, my lady?”

A laugh bubbled through her. She sailed into his arms, hugging him. The moment her arms were around him, he grunted, as though in pain. She stepped back.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“No need,” he said. “I’m a bit sore still, that’s all.”

She had a thousand questions to ask him but didn’t dare in the presence of her father. She needed Leopold all to herself for that.

“Bella, my dear, I don’t know who this man is, but I’m certainly grateful for the help,” her father said.

She flushed hot, her cheeks burning. She didn’t know how to introduce the two of them. Thankfully, Leopold stepped in.

“Leopold Thornhurst, my lord. Your daughter and I met in Driftbell.” He gave her a sideways glance, that playful smile still lifting the corner of his mouth. “In the bookshop.”

“Indeed? I should like to hear all about that,” her father said. “Do you enjoy books, too?”

She recognized the hopeful look on her father’s face and laughed. Not only at the way her father hoped she had found someone like her, but the fact that Leopold more than liked books.

“I enjoy books quite a lot. Especially ones written in strange languages,” Leopold replied. He held his arm out for her. She took it, sliding her hand in the crook of his elbow. “My carriage is waiting outside. Shall I give you a ride?”

“Hawthorne Hall is quite a ways,” her father said. “Are you certain?”

Still grinning, he said, “Oh, I’m counting on it.” He slid her a roguish glance.

They filed out of the Hall of Justice, the last of the dispersing crowd.

Her father said, “Did you know my Bella has a talent for translating strange languages?”

“Does she, then?” Leopold gave her a surreptitious wink. She stifled a giggle. “I should like to hear all about that on the ride back to Hawthorne Hall.”

Her cheeks ached from smiling as they stepped out into the golden wash of midday sunlight. His fingers brushed hers, then laced through them with quiet certainty. He gazed down at her with love and adoration gleaming in his pale brown eyes. And for a moment, everything was perfect. Whole.

The curse was broken. Her father was safe. And Leopold had chosen her. The weight of courtrooms, shadows, and whispered fears lifted, burned away in the light.

Everything was right. And with him beside her, it finally felt like her life had begun.