Chapter Twenty-Two: The Dinner

September 12th, 1879

London, England, United Kingdom, Europe

Marie smoothed her hands down the front of her dress and held in a shaky breath, trying to calm her nerves. She focused on the details of her gown as the carriage rattled on towards its destination.

Her dress was a lovely shade of dark green. It was a pretty beaded gown with an off-the-shoulder sleeve and cream gloves that extended past her elbows to tie the look together. Her hair was styled in perfect curls and pinned out of her eyes. Marie had specially chosen the color for tonight's mission.

The mission to warn Matthew about Albina wanting to kill him.

She was to pose as Albert's date when attending the dinner at the Christie household.

Marie accepted Albert's hand down from the carriage as it creaked to a stop with a groan. The horses shifted in place with a whinny, and the drivers—Moran and Fred—hushed the beasts. William and Louis filed out of the carriage behind Marie and approached the familiar mansion. They had never been there, but Marie remembered enough details to draw up a basic floor plan of the place.

Buckley answered the door and scanned over each of their faces before bowing and gesturing them inside. He glanced right over Marie's face, not a spot of recognition in his eyes as she passed by him, her hand on Albert's arm. She swallowed as she saw the familiar interior, nerves rising in her stomach. She felt a hand over hers and glanced over to see Albert watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"You'll be fine." He whispered as Buckley led them into the dining room. All she could manage was a nod.

Albina and Matthew were already seated with Matthew at the head of the table. Lady Christie sat to his left while Albina sat to his right. Matthew was dressed in a charcoal black suit, and Lady Christie was dressed in a pitch-black mourning dress. Marie had no idea why they had invited the group to dinner while they were in mourning. While she didn't know why she had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Albina.

Buckley announced their party, and Matthew stood to shake the Moriarty's hands. Albina rose to hug Marie, who returned it stiffly. Matthew offered a hand to Marie and kissed hers lightly when she placed her hand in his.

"It's a surprise to see you here, Ms. St. Clair." He said though his eyes were sad. She offered a tight smile and stepped back to stand by Albert and Louis.

"Alice is a close friend of the Moriarty family. I hope it isn't too much to have her here," William said, and Matthew shook his head, gesturing for them to all take a seat.

"It's not a problem. Meals taste better when you eat with others anyway." He said with a smile.

Albert pulled out Marie's seat for her before taking a seat to her left. She sat in between Albert and Albina, with Albina on her right. William and Louis sat next to each other and also across from Albert and Marie. William was in between his brother and Lady Christie.

Buckley entered the dining area, followed by several servants carrying various trays and plates. Dinner was roast pork with vegetables, potatoes, and red wine. It smelled absolutely delicious. Marie never had the opportunity to try the head cook's cooking when she was under Lord Christie's servitude, but she had heard plenty of stories.

Twenty minutes into their meal, Marie got the signal to put the next phase of their plan into action. With a nudge from Albert's foot, she quickly stood and excused herself to the washroom. She felt Matthew's gaze on her—watching her—as she shut the door behind her.

The halls were eerily quiet as Marie headed towards Matthew's childhood bedroom. The original plan was to go to Lord Christie's study, but William pointed out it was likely swarming with police. So that was where she was to expose everything about Albina's plan to murder Matthew to him if everything went according to their own plan.

That was if William could play his part and get Matthew to follow Marie.

She hoped he could.

Marie put a handle on the doorknob of Matthew's childhood bedroom. She had never actually been in through the door before, only via the window. But she knew the mansion's layout like the back of her hand. So she turned the handle and stepped inside.

The bedroom hadn't changed a bit since the last time she had been in here eight years ago. Although, it was a little musty and filled with dust. The housekeeping servants likely hadn't been in here for a while. Marie's dress hem fluttered against the floor as she walked inside and shut the door behind her, heading towards the window. She spotted gardeners scurrying towards the servant's quarters in the darkening evening, the sunset making their shadows stretch across the estate.

There was the sound of squealing hinges, and she turned, coming face to face with Matthew. He looked in distress, hair mussed as if he had been running his hands through it, eyes wide and frantic.

"Edith— I mean, Marie?" He asked hastily, and she nodded.

"I'm glad you could meet me." She said, and Matthew obviously held in a scoff,

"I couldn't exactly refuse. The Moriarty's said you had something important to tell me? They're holding Albina hostage downstairs!" He burst out, and Marie flinched at the noise. Matthew noticed and immediately looked apologetic. He held out a hand to apologize, but Marie drew away. She couldn't touch him, especially now that he was married. Matthew looked hurt, and Marie felt a pang in her chest.

"Why did you want to meet me?" He asked quietly after a moment of gathering his thoughts. Marie chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought about how to go about telling him everything. Should she tell him about her poisoning endeavors? No, he didn't need to know that much. Only the basics, just like her and William planned.

"I needed to talk to you about the circumstances involving your father's death." She said finally, and this time, Matthew flinched. The wound was likely still too fresh for the mention of his father to not hurt him. But she had to let him know. He deserved to know.

"What circumstances? He was murdered, simple as that." He said but hesitated when he noticed Marie looking down at her hands.

"...You murdered him, didn't you? You murdered my father." He whispered, and Marie took in a breath,

"N—Not exactly. That was Albert who dealt the killing blow. I just happened to be there. But yes, I did help plan to kill Lord Christie." She said just as softly and watched Matthew's face change.

He looked upset, not quite angry, but close. His hands clenched into fists, nostrils flaring as he took in the information. So his ex-lover had killed his father, and for what? He still didn't know.

"Why? Why did you kill him? Have you come to kill me too?!" His voice was rising now, nearly in a shout. If they weren't careful, a servant would walk in and see them talking, and that would ruin everything. Marie had to hurry before Matthew was too far into hysterics to listen to what she had to say.

She started to pull off her gloves.

"No, I'm not here to kill you. I wouldn't do something like that. As for your father? He was embezzling money from others. That was part of the reason."

"But did it mean he had to die?!" Matthew demanded but stopped abruptly when Marie's gloves fluttered to the floor, exposing her hands to him.

"We also killed him for abuse to your mother and for closure for what he did to me." She finished and extended her hands out for him to see in the light of the setting sun.

Matthew took a step back in horror as he saw the mangled mess that was her hands, hand going to cover his mouth. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"What happened?" He whispered, voice barely audible in the quiet room. Marie hesitated before opening her mouth and speaking,

"He wanted me to break off our engagement, so he broke my hands." Was all she said, and he recoiled,

"That—that's impossible. He wouldn't do that." He denied, and Marie sighed, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Would I lie about this?" Her voice cracked and echoed in the empty room. Matthew was silent for a moment before shaking his head. He knew her better than to believe she would lie to him.

Matthew crossed the room and took her hands in his, albeit a bit roughly. She winced, and he swallowed,

"What else did he do to you?" He asked, anger evident in his voice. Marie shook her head. She was lucky enough that he didn't do anything else.

"Nothing. After breaking my hands, he let me go and made me leave. That's why I disappeared eight years ago." She said and turned her hands over so she could hold his. He ran his fingers over her broken ones and clenched his teeth.

"I'm so sorry he did this to you." He said softly, and Marie felt the tears in her eyes nearly overflow. She couldn't cry now, not when she still had to tell him about Albina.

"This wasn't the only reason I came to talk to you, Matthew. There's something else…." She trailed off, and Matthew stiffened, letting go of her hands and looking her in the eye.

"What is it?"

Marie breathed in and began to talk. She explained to him about the meeting with Albina at the tea party, her threats, everything. She didn't tell him about her poisonings or the fact that the Lords of Crime was downstairs, likely threatening his wife into silence. By the end, Matthew looked upset. He looked angry. His hands were clenched at his sides, and he was shaking.

"So I'm destined for tragedy? Not only did my father torture my now ex-fiancée, but he also abused my mother. And I can't even rest now that he's dead because my own wife plots my murder!" His voice rose to a shout, hands coming up to run through his hair as he paced back and forth across the room. Marie picked up her gloves from the floor and slipped them on.

There wasn't any more she could do now.