Chapter 18: Goodbye, Sir
After spending several days confined to her room as punishment, Liri finally received news from the outside.
“Liri! Liri!”
Summer came rushing toward her, clutching at her coat.
“Summer! What’s all the fuss about?”
“Liri, it’s you.”
Summer was out of breath.
“You can stay here no longer. Your confinement was lifted today. You’re free to go out now.”
No one had expected this. Summer relayed the news that, instead of Liri, Mr. Budino had undergone questioning by the police.
He had been released only after repeatedly testifying, “I’m too old; I got confused,” but in the end, he had been forced into an ignominious exit.
It was a sad ending for Mr. Budino, who had once admired the young Lord Belmore for the way he carved his steak.
“Right now, he’s alone at the train station. Nobody knew… You know…”
Summer hesitated, unable to tell Liri that she would be dismissed.
“Which train station?”
Liri put on her coat with a determined expression.
“The outskirts of Londinium. What’s the matter, going now?”
“Just cover for me, Summer!”
The train departed on schedule. It was impossible to reach it on foot. Liri anxiously stepped into the hotel elevator.
“Elizabeth, aren’t you supposed to be confined?”
The bellboy froze, staring at Liri as he hesitated over the elevator buttons.
“Peter, just this once. My confinement’s over, but please keep it secret from the manager. If he finds out I left immediately, I’ll be in trouble.”
Liri took a Florin coin from her pocket and handed it to him. Peter glanced around before pocketing it.
“Just this once.”
“Thank you.”
When another guest entered the elevator, Peter pressed the close button.
“Where to, madam?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Fourth floor.”
Peter, wearing white gloves, pressed the button. Liri let out a sigh of relief. When the elevator doors opened, she bolted out.
“Timothy! You were in your room?”
Timothy was startled to see Liri appear so urgently. He had given up on meeting her, believing her confinement prevented it, yet she now stood before him like a ghost.
“What’s the matter?”
“I have to get to the train station.”
Seeing her frantic expression, he didn’t even ask questions and quickly put on his trench coat.
“If you ask the concierge, we can borrow the hotel carriage.”
Fortunately, the two of them arrived at the station before the train departed.
“Go ahead first, Liri.”
With those words, Liri sprinted toward the platform. Among the crowded passengers, the short, stocky figure of a man carrying large pots and bundles of luggage stood out.
“Chef!”
Liri called after him at the top of her lungs. Timothy followed closely behind.
“Liri!”
The chef’s eyes widened. Liri panted heavily.
“I was afraid you’d just leave… How could you go without saying a word?”
“Who would hold a farewell for a soldier discharged in disgrace?”
He tapped her shoulder with his rough, calloused hand, but unlike usual, it lacked strength.
“Lord Belmore is a terrible man.”
For the first time, Liri spoke aloud words she had never voiced before. Mr. Budino did not laugh.
“Liri, don’t hate him too much. Work long at the hotel. The world isn’t easy.”
He did not list the kinds of harsh trials an innocent young lady might face in the world.
“How can you say that? How many years did I work for that man! How can he just cast me out? If the world is a harsh place, I should stay at the hotel even more!”
“Liri, that’s enough. I’m fine.”
He paused, then muttered, almost to himself, staring off into space.
“As you can see, I’ve lived too busily. It’s about time my mind goes a little haywire.”
“You don’t have to say that in front of me.”
Ever since the name Belmore entered her life, it had always been like this. Everything Liri valued could be taken away so easily.
“I really hate him.”
“He is responsible for what happened at the hotel.”
“I’m the one who should take responsibility.”
He awkwardly patted her head.
“Liri, Lord Belmore knew exactly who should take responsibility for this mess. Promise me you’ll endure it here. Do you think Congressman Gordon will be satisfied by simply eliminating you? You have to at least pretend to give up what you cherish.”
No one came to bid him farewell. Everyone had turned away from those whom Belmore discarded.
“I hate Belmore.”
She had never hated anyone so fiercely before. She cursed a man whose face she had never even seen.
She let the curse escape her lips in front of Timothy, something she had never shared with anyone.
“I hope he loses someone he truly loves.”
Timothy followed silently behind her.
Jeffrey Paul, editor-in-chief of the Londinium Tribune, had just returned to the office after a tea party with a member of the House of Commons.
“Ah, Rutland…”
Before entering the editor’s office, he watched Timothy Rutland sorting through a stack of papers with a serious expression through the glass partition.
“Working tirelessly, I see.”
He liked Timothy, who carried the same burning sense of justice he once had. Timothy had a way with words, was rational, and could explain difficult concepts simply.
Above all, his best quality was being kind and righteous. But in a small newspaper like theirs, that quality rarely had the chance to shine, which the editor regretted.
“Timothy, why don’t you take a short break?”
He pulled out a cigarette and sat next to Timothy.
“Oh, I don’t smoke.”
“That’s childishly stubborn.”
Timothy had never smoked after realizing Liri would cough from the smoke. Instead, he chewed drops.
“I still eat candy.”
The editor laughed.
“You’re coming back from meeting Congressman Phil Gordon.”
He exhaled smoke, making his gaunt cheeks hollow.
“I heard him say Belmore is no different from the mafia.”
Timothy recalled Liri’s eyes blazing with curses aimed at Belmore. The name was certainly ominous.
“Perhaps,” Timothy said.
“Two-faced, they say.”
“Everyone knows, they just don’t speak up…” Timothy calmly replaced the typewriter ribbon.
Jeffrey laughed heartily, sending smoke into Timothy’s face. Timothy frowned and stepped back.
“You’re unusually emotional.”
“I know several people who’ve suffered because of Belmore.”
Timothy thought of Liri’s face.
“What Congressman Gordon mentioned isn’t about Christopher Archibald Belmore personally.”
“Isn’t it?”
“It’s Belmore himself.”
It was hard to understand at first.
“I won’t go into details. Anyway, it seems the congressman nearly had a nervous breakdown because of this incident. Even if it wasn’t an attempt at poisoning, it was a warning to teach him a lesson.”
So claiming he had no health issues was a lie.
Timothy bit his lip. Liri would feel guilty if she knew.
“They said to ask a nun at St. Margarita Convent. The nun might know something, but she passed away. At least one is still around. Where is the convent now?”
“East Longfell,” Timothy replied immediately.
“Good. Will you go there? Try to find out about Belmore from the nun. They’re cautious, so she might not speak, but it’s worth a try.”
“What if I arrive empty-handed?”
Jeffrey crushed his cigarette in the ashtray.
“Offer them a local specialty.”
“A local specialty?”
“The specialty from that region… probably a scoop.”
Jeffrey laughed and left the office. Timothy watched him go, bewildered.
‘I hope he loses someone he loves too.’
The convent moving, the nun dying… Belmore was an ominous name.
It felt wrong that Liri had to work under his hand just to make a living. Had she known the situation that day, she would have left the hotel holding his hand instead of begging for a job.
Timothy poured his cold tea into a nearby flowerpot, tucked his journalist notebook into his jacket pocket, and stood.
He slipped on his Harris Tweed jacket, carelessly draped over the chair, and paused for a moment.
Should he tell Liri he was going?
She might be upset if he went alone to the nun while she was sulking during her confinement.
He decided it was better to ask sensitive questions while she wasn’t around.
