Discovering the Devil

N i n e

IX

HARRY should've seen this coming. He suspected Solomon had wanted to kill him for years, and now he finally had the proper excuse to do it. Why else would he come to Hawthorne? It's not as if he seriously thought Harry could be insulted into releasing Penelope from her post, and Solomon wasn't the sort of man who would drag his intended out by force. Still, he couldn't help but be surprised.

Harry smiled blithely. "I accept."

Solomon's eyes glinted hungrily. "There's a lake about a mile from Fleurs. I want to do it there, at dawn."

The lake where he and Penelope first met. It couldn't be a coincidence but Harry couldn't fathom how he found out. "Alright."

"Tomorrow at dawn, then?"

Harry ignored the hammering in his heart. "It would have to be this weekend. I have to send word to my second. He doesn't live in Milford."

Feral fire had returned to Solomon's eyes. "If this is your way of chickening out—"

"—I have to send word to my second," Harry interrupted. "As you might already know, there's not a soul in Milford who would do me the honor."

Solomon's jaw clenched. "Where do they live?"

"The Capitol. It's Zachary." Harry paused. "You might remember him. There was once a time—"

"—this Saturday," Solomon interrupted. "At dawn."

"Fine."

"Good," Solomon barked. He purposefully slammed the door as he walked out. Harry wrote a letter to Zachary as soon as Solomon left the room. Then, he wrote another to his other best friend, Perceval. Before Arthur's death, he'd had friends aplenty, afterwards, they dwindled to just two. Zachary and Perceval were the only people who believed in Harry's innocence. They tried to loan him money after Harry had left his father's house empty-handed, but Harry had refused all help. His pride had made him shirk their company before serious renovations of Hawthorne were completed, but when he got his bearings, he didn't forget the only people who had shown him kindness.

Harry went to bed early that day. He dreamt of a windy morning with the sun slowly crawling into the sky. Solomon stood twenty paces in front of him with a triumphant sneer. "You bastard," he screeched as the bullet exploded from the barrel. The bullet passed through Harry as if it was air. When it was Harry's turn, the musket ball passed clean through his opponent and Solomon crumpled to the ground. When Harry approached to examine the body, he saw that it wasn't Solomon at all. It was Arthur. Harry woke up with a start. He couldn't fall asleep for the rest of the night. The days toiled away until his friends finally descended on Hawthorne castle.

When Harry received them, there was no preamble, no pleasantries. "What the hell did you do?" Perceval demanded.

"There was a slight oversight on my part," Harry admitted reluctantly.

"What sort of oversight?" Zachary pressed.

"I employed Solomon's former fiancée as my housekeeper."

Perceval's brows knit together in confusion. "You meant to tell me that Solomon was engaged to a housekeeper?"

"Not...quite." Harry cleared his throat. "She's a lady, actually."

His friends were silent for a moment as they tried to work out the math. "What sort of lady?" Perceval asked.

"The daughter of a countess," Harry murmured.

"And she's not fallen?" Zachary clarified.

"Correct."