Chapter 14 – Rumors About Her That She Doesn’t Know
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Rufus asked, studying his master closely as he tilted his glasses toward the sunlight.
“Is something good happening?”
Whenever his master smiled so calmly, Rufus felt an odd sense of unease.
“It’s the Prime Minister’s hearing today.”
“I’ve heard Phil Gordon has prepared something, but seeing you in such high spirits makes me curious too,” Rufus said, tense and uneasy. Unlike his master, he was bracing himself.
As a member of the House of Lords, Christopher could only attend the Prime Minister’s hearing in the lower house as a witness. And as Christopher’s representative, Rufus had to offer some kind of “defense” regarding the relationship between the Prime Minister and Belmore.
Rufus hadn’t eaten all day, and the stress was pushing him toward the edge of a breakdown. Yet his master appeared utterly relaxed. Lately, Rufus had noticed something different about him.
“Sir, what’s this on your sleeve?”
Rufus pointed at Christopher’s cuff.
“A clip? Why are you wearing something like this?”
Unlike Rufus, who had no idea why it was there, Christopher remained completely unbothered. He casually slipped it into his pocket, ignoring Rufus’s outstretched hand.
The hearing in parliament proceeded in the usual manner: raising suspicions about the Prime Minister and waiting for responses. The long, tedious debate dragged on until finally, Phil Gordon gained the floor.
“What on earth has he brought with him?” Rufus whispered into Christopher’s ear. Christopher alternated his gaze between the Prime Minister’s face and the confident expression of Phil Gordon.
“Honorable members, you should know the vile acts committed by the newly opened hotel in Londinium,” Phil Gordon began.
Rufus muttered to Christopher, “Quite a dramatic opening.”
Christopher simply nodded, lightly touching his onyx cufflinks.
“Sir Belmore attempted to ruin the convent, persuading and even threatening various patrons.”
Though the stern expressions and tightly pursed lips of the assembly, topped with powdered wigs, all turned to stare at Christopher, he remained composed.
“The Prime Minister and his associates invested in the hotel. But things didn’t go as they wanted because the nun opposed it. And then, that opposing nun ‘coincidentally’ died in a carriage accident right in front of the hotel.”
Murmurs erupted across the room.
“Wait a moment, Mr. Gordon! That statement is highly inappropriate,” Rufus finally blurted out, unable to contain himself.
“Order! Maintain order! Speak only when given the floor!”
The chamber descended into chaos, resembling a bustling market. Someone crossed the red line marked on the floor and gestured aggressively. Even the speaker banging a wooden rod couldn’t restore order.
“Honorable members! I am Rufus Ollivander, the attorney representing Sir Belmore, who has appeared as a witness. Mr. Gordon is spreading outright lies!”
Rufus felt his neck flush with anger, as though personally insulted.
“Don’t try to deny it by claiming no evidence exists! Who stands to gain from the nun’s death? Belmore and his accomplices, of course!”
“Spreading baseless rumors in parliament that might be said by drunken fools in Hivebrom—honestly, I’m disappointed in you, sir.”
Phil Gordon smirked.
“Honorable members! Speaking of Hivebrom… after the convent disappeared, an orphan ended up sold to a tavern there.”
This was a direct hit. Nothing enraged the Queen more than hearing that her innocent subjects had fallen into prostitution or vagrancy. She saw such things as proof of her own inadequate rule.
The timing was worse still. High unemployment and social unrest made the general atmosphere tense.
“Mr. Gordon, are you saying the nuns died because of Sir Belmore, and the orphan became a street girl?”
Phil Gordon nodded confidently.
At that moment, Christopher, who had been silent until now, slowly raised his hand. He said nothing—he simply raised it—and immediately, all attention shifted from Phil Gordon to him.
Dirty scandals and conspiracies couldn’t dominate tomorrow’s headlines. Even the speaker nodded in acknowledgment.
“Mr. Gordon failed to produce the orphan from Hivebrom.”
“It’s a vile place—she may already have contracted syphilis, her face half ruined! But I secured the tavern owner’s testimony,” Phil Gordon added.
Christopher let out a slight laugh. Phil Gordon didn’t know the girl personally. If he had, he wouldn’t have dared call her diseased, vulgar, ignorant, or naive. She was far too sharp, intelligent enough to make one question why she hadn’t been adopted.
“Buying testimony from the Hivebrom tavern owner will not be accepted. Furthermore, the only young woman from that convent now works at my hotel. This is an indisputable fact requiring no threats or money.”
Both sides fell silent. Only Prime Minister Hobert nodded in satisfaction.
“A woman from the convent now works at the Belmore Hotel without a recommendation. Whose doing would that be?”
It was under my protection.
No rebuttal could be stronger. Phil Gordon’s face darkened.
“You won’t believe it until you see her! Sir Belmore, you must show her here before anyone trusts that claim!”
“Ah, so you weren’t able to find the orphan in Hivebrom,” Christopher said, confirming Gordon’s defeat.
“The story Mr. Gordon concocted was entertaining enough, but it belongs in a mystery novel sold at Moody’s Bookshop.”
Some members chuckled at the comparison to a cheap trilogy sold at Moody’s. While the overall atmosphere remained tense, the absurd scandal had been quashed.
The rest of the hearing dragged on with boring questions about allied nations’ instability, deranged killers, cholera outbreaks, and exposition costs. Finally, it ended, and the members began leaving the chamber.
Phil Gordon blocked Christopher’s path. He was short, barely reaching his shoulder height, but he frowned as he looked up at him.
“I know your bloodline is filthy.”
“Perhaps you should try saying that in front of my grandfather,” Christopher replied, casually shoving him aside toward the door.
“Think about all the blood your grandfather has on his hands! You might even miss your incompetent father—”
Before he could finish, Christopher spun around, grabbing Gordon’s shoulder with one hand. The grip was so strong that Gordon groaned.
Christopher’s face contorted. Whatever he had touched, it was clear he’d struck a nerve.
“Your grandfather spared your life because he wanted to give his grandson a chance.”
“What did you say? How dare you threaten me?”
“Next time, bring a more interesting story. Not one about prostitutes or murderers—something elegant.”
He released his grip. Gordon staggered. Christopher even lightly dusted off his shoulder as if shaking off dirt.
Though Gordon was overpowered by his composure, he still managed a parting shot.
“If Cecile Hobert saw you like this… John Hobert might even sell his own daughter, but who knows.”
Phil Gordon always chose losing battles. He hadn’t realized that Cecile Hobert meant nothing to Christopher. A faint laugh escaped him. Why did everyone play these games so predictably?
“Miss Hobert will be hosting a party soon, and you’ll attend. Now that the hearing is over, you must campaign against election loss.”
“I look forward to seeing how long you can keep pretending to be the great Belmore. Remember, that name was forged in blood.”
“I’m curious how long you’ll keep holding onto such trivial facts,” Christopher said, finishing calmly and walking away.
When Elizabeth Gardner—the girl who had fled through Hivebrom like a hunted deer—had leapt into his path, he hadn’t imagined such a drawn-out confrontation.
“I should have had her stand at the hearing.”
Today, he had protected her far more than necessary, and Rufus had noticed.
It seemed Christopher preferred the harder path, leaving the easier route untouched. Some nobles might look down on him speaking in the lower house.
“The fact she stayed in Hivebrom for one day is true. Pressing it further would only put us at a disadvantage.”
“They might think the House of Lords interfered with the lower house,” Rufus pointed out.
“She’s a sufficient witness for the hearing. If you were so worried, you shouldn’t have gotten so worked up.”
The hearing had been barbaric. Watching predators sink their teeth into what he owned was far from enjoyable.
“You leave me speechless,” Rufus admitted.
“Putting her up there would gain us nothing. That’s all I wanted to say.”
“Are you sure there’s no other motive?”
Christopher didn’t answer.
