Page 89 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

“Yes,” she said again, keeping her eyes forward. “I’ll need to pack a bag. Emmaline can travel with me, but you and Edith should remain here.”

“Ah…” He cleared his throat as tension filled the air between them.

She glanced up at him. “What is it?”

“Miss Emmaline left this morning to return to her family home, miss.”

“Oh.” The word came out on a rough whisper. “I see, then.”

With stiff movements, she rose and poured herself a cup of tea. It was the only normal thing that felt right about the moment. Pouring tea. Eating scones.

Gerald remained where he was, clearly unsure what he should do.

“You may go, Gerald. Thank you for telling me about Emmaline.”

He gave a quick bow and left her alone in the parlor.

Chapter 37

Twodayslater,Bellatook 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 shewasthere, 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.

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