“Don’t lie to me. Not you too.” Tears clouded her eyes. “I swear that’s all anyone inside this house does—lie.”
Rosalind’s shoulders sagged. “When I mess up, it makes things more difficult for my father, and there are consequences.”
Bryony came closer and rested a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this. No one does, not even when they make a mistake.”
Their eyes held in the mirror for a moment, then Rosalind shrugged her hand away. “You think I don’t know that? I won’t stay here forever. I have a plan in place, but Father’s influence is vast, and I have to be careful. Now why are you here? To check on me? Father will let me leave this room as soon as I find a way to conceal the bruise.”
“I...” There was so much more she wanted to say, but none of that would help the fact that Mikhail was sitting in a jail cell, and her father and brother and Dr. Ottingford didn’t seem inclined to tell the truth about what had happened in the wilderness. “Did you know they arrested Mikhail Amos in conjunction with Richard’s death?”
Rosalind’s gaze fell to her lap. “No, but I’m not surprised. I already told you, Father hates the Amoses. He’ll do whatever he can to attack them. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Father paid the Marshal to falsify the interview records. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Not the first time?” A sickening sensation coiled in Bryony’s stomach. “Are you saying your father has brought other fraudulent charges against the Amoses?”
Rosalind didn’t answer, but her friend’s silence told her everything she needed to know.
“I have to find a way to get him out.” She turned and headed to the window. It overlooked the mountain behind Sitka, but it was too dark to see anything.
“It’s best not to get involved,” Rosalind whispered in a small voice. “Mr. Amos’s sister Evelina is a lawyer, and his brother Alexei is powerful in his own way. If the charges are false, they’ll find a way to get him released.”
“But I feel like this is all my fault.” Bryony sank onto the bed.
“It’s not.” Rosalind left the vanity stool and came to sit beside her. “None of this is about you. You’re just caught in the middle of one of my father’s schemes.”
“Doesn’t anyone care that it’s wrong?”
Rosalind shrugged, a small gesture that seemed hopeless more than anything else. “Whenever my situation seems hopeless, I read First Thessalonians chapter five. It says to always rejoice and pray, and to give thanks in everything.”
“I don’t see how I’m supposed to give thanks that an innocent man was just arrested and charged for a death he had nothing to do with.”
She blinked. “Well, perhaps not. But maybe there’s something else we can find to rejoice about. At least that’s what I usually try to do.”
“I have to see him.” She reached out and gripped Rosalind’s hand. “How can I sneak out of this house? And don’t tell me you’ve never done it.”
Rosalind sighed. “The window in my room is right over a?—”
“Bryony?” Heath’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by the muted sound of a fist rapping against a door. “Bryony?”
She stood from the bed and headed into the hallway before her brother had a chance to come to Rosalind’s door and glimpse her face.
He frowned the instant he saw her, crossing his arms over his chest. “What was that about downstairs? You can’t behave that way.”
“What do you mean?” Heat seared her eyes again, but she blinked back her tears. “What are you and father doing, lying about Mikhail killing Richard?”
Heath looked down for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “We’re not claiming Amos killed Richard outright. Amos is being charged with negligent homicide. That means his negligence is what led to Richard’s death.”
“Well, it’s wrong! There’s nothing negligent about how Mikhail acted during any part of our time in the wilderness. Or have you forgotten how he saved your life on the side of the mountain? About how he found a cave for us during that snowstorm? About how he could catch fish and shoot deer and snare rabbits so we didn’t starve? About how he pulled me out of a river that you wouldn’t dare jump into yourself?”
Heath just shook his head. “This is what I was talking about downstairs. You have to stop being so dramatic.”
“Stop being dramatic?” She swept forward and jabbed a finger into his chest. “An innocent man is sitting in a jail cell, charged with a crime he didn’t commit, and on the night before Thanksgiving, of all times! And you think I’m being dramatic?”
Heath at least had the decency to wince. “You’re taking this too personally, Bry. We have to be practical, especially now that Richard’s dead and we don’t know if we’ll be able to arrange a marriage between you and the next secretary of the interior. You don’t realize just how vulnerable we are, but the Caldwells do, and they’re a powerful family. They could easily see to it that Father never gets a lick of funding again. We can’t afford to get on their bad side.”
“Are you saying they put you up to this?”
“Of course they put us up to this. Preston Caldwell despises the Amoses, and he won’t stop until the entire family is ruined. All I’m saying is, we can’t afford to get in the way of it—and that includes you.”
“I won’t stand for it.” This time she couldn’t stop the tears from cresting. “All of this against Mikhail is false, and if you won’t let everyone know, then I will.”
