Chapter 13

I don’t know if it was Jasper’s intent or not, but our mourning period ended up being a good business move.

Our disappearance after that initial procession drove our prospective suitors into a frenzy. They’d seen us once and wanted to see more. Jasper, realizing the advantage this presented, became enigmatic about when our ball season would begin. Our mystique increased, and messengers constantly came on behalf of their masters, looking for more information. And soon, the masters themselves began to arrive.

I was one of the most despondent over the Gray Gull’s loss, but even I couldn’t keep my curiosity at bay. The Thorns had a private office downstairs but would meet prospective clients in a luxury sitting room with a high ceiling that was open on one side to a walkway above. Here, we could crouch in the shadows behind a slatted railing and covertly observe the goings-on below. With no other contact with the outside world, aside from outlandish stories about pirates and Icori that our guards carried to us, this became grand entertainment for us. I welcomed the distractions, though they could never keep Tamsin far from my thoughts.

Some of the suitors came with general inquiries, and the Thorns slipped into their best sales modes to suggest possible matches to these suitors. Cedric was excellent at this, and not even Jasper could fault him. I was reminded of the Cedric from our first meeting, rather than the troubled religious dissident I’d come to know.

“Well, Mister Collins, a magistrate like you needs to be especially mindful of the kind of wife he chooses,” Cedric said to an inquiring gentleman one day. Several of us were crowded above, trying to get a good view. A magistrate was of particular interest to us.

“I’ve put it off,” the man admitted. He seemed to be older than us, mid-thirties if I had to guess. Cedric was handling the meeting alone, as was common. “I had been in talks with Harold Stone about his daughter, but then you arrived.”

“I know of Mister Stone,” Cedric said. “Good man, from what I hear. Successful farm, right? And I’m guessing his daughter is a pleasant, respectable girl, raised and educated at home with good values.”

“Yes . . .” Mister Collins spoke warily, uncertain of where Cedric was leading.

“But is a pleasant farmer’s daughter really going to help get you where you need to go?”

“What . . . what do you mean?” asked Mister Collins.

Cedric gestured grandly. “Look at you. You’re a man in your prime, your career still rising. Is magistrate the most you want to achieve? There are almost certainly higher posts in the government that you’d be in the running for—in Denham and in some of the other fledgling colonies where they need capable men the most. A man hoping to rise needs to stand out. He needs every advantage he can get—including his choice of wife.”

Mister Collins fell silent for several moments. “And you have someone in mind who would be suitable for this?”

Cedric’s back was to me, but I could picture his winning smile. “I have several.” He picked up a stack of papers and rifled through them. “Why, there’s Sylvia, a petite brunette who charms everyone she knows. Received very high marks in social planning—exactly who you’d want to arrange dinners and parties to impress your friends. And then we’ve got Rosamunde. Golden blonde hair. Excellent knowledge of history and political affairs. She can hold her own in any conversation with the elite classes—in a genteel, ladylike way, of course.”

Sylvia and Rosamunde, sitting near me, leaned forward eagerly.

“I do like blondes,” said Mister Collins grudgingly. “Is she pretty?”

“Mister Collins, I assure you, they’re all pretty. Beautiful. Stunning. Men are still reeling from the day they arrived in Cape Triumph.”

“I wasn’t there . . . but I’ve heard the stories.” Mister Collins took a deep breath. “How much would someone like this Rosamunde cost?”

“Well,” said Cedric, again going through the papers. I knew it was for show. He had all of our dossiers memorized and tended to make recommendations based on which girls simply hadn’t been pitched to prospective clients, in an effort to give us all exposure. I had yet to be suggested. “Her starting price would be two hundred gold dollars.”

“Two hundred!” exclaimed Mister Collins. “She’d cost two hundred gold?”

“Her starting price would, due to her rank. That number can easily go up if enough gentlemen bid and want to catch her attention. Between you and me . . .” Cedric leaned toward the other man conspiratorially. “Well, there’s been a lot of interest this week. Like you, many gentleman are partial to blondes.”

I’d only heard Cedric pitch Rosamunde as one of many other choices, but the idea that she was in demand was alluring to Mister Collins.

“That’s a lot of money,” he said uncertainly.

“That’s an investment,” corrected Cedric. I couldn’t help but smile. He was so charming, so self-assured. He probably could have sold Mister Collins on buying ten wives. “Tell me, when the governor hosts a formal dinner and has a new position to fill, what will his wife—a baron’s daughter, I hear—report back after conversing with Mister Stone’s daughter? And should one of His Majesty’s royal ambassadors visit, scrutinizing how well the New World is keeping pace with the old one, what will he say when he meets a farmer’s daughter? Will she be able to discuss arts and music? Be well informed on the intricacies of Denham politics? You yourself are of middle-class upbringing, I understand. You’ve certainly surpassed that, but I imagine a young woman skilled in aristocratic ways could be very useful to you as you navigate political waters.”

Cedric’s body language reminded me of some predatory animal, braced and ready for his prey to show a sign of weakness so that he could move in for the attack. Mister Collins fell silent once more. At last, he said, “May I see her?”

“Of course—at our opening ball, with everyone else. I’ll make sure you’re on our invitation list when we announce it.”

And that was how he left most of the men hanging, tantalizing them with the idea of a girl who was perfect for them but in demand by so many others. These gentlemen left consumed by the idea, soon imagining far more about us than Cedric could ever describe.

We’d been there about a week and a half when Cedric finally found a chance to pull me aside for a private conversation. “The painting and supplies are in the large cellar. Do you think you can find a chance to sneak in and finish?” The painting had been nearly complete when the storm hit, needing only a few last touches.

“If I can escape Mistress Culpepper. She watches everything we do—much more than Mistress Masterson ever did.”

He nodded. “I’ll find a way to get her out one afternoon. Tell her we need some emergency cloth or supplies for some girl or another. It’s not entirely hard to believe—the opening ball is at the end of this week.”

“Is it?” I asked. I’d known this lull couldn’t last forever but was still startled.

“The announcement’s being made tomorrow. This place’ll be chaos as Mistress Culpepper gets you all ready. It should be easy enough for you to slip away. There’ll be last-minute wardrobe problems and more men coming by to make another attempt at a private meeting before everyone gets a shot at you all.”

I gave him a sidelong look. “Why don’t you ever pitch me?”

“What?”

“I’ve watched most of your meetings. You rotate through all the girls, making sure each one gets highlighted to some suitor or another. But never me.”

“I’m sure I have,” he said lightly. “You probably just missed those particular meetings.”

I found that unlikely. I’d watched almost all, and when I didn’t, there was always some girl more than willing to rehash every single detail of the conversation. Before I could protest, Mistress Culpepper came hurrying into the dining room.

“Mister Thorn, there’s a gentleman here to speak with you.” It was the first time I’d seen her look unsettled.

Cedric raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think we had any appointments this afternoon.”

“We don’t, but sir, it’s—it’s the governor’s son. Warren Doyle.”

That caught even Cedric off guard. “Well, then. I guess you’d better show him to the sitting room.” She hurried off, and he glanced at me. “And I suppose you’d better scurry off to your spy post.”

I flashed him a grin and left the room. As I went upstairs, I caught sight of Jasper nearly running into the house. Apparently, word of the governor’s son’s visit had reached him. He might normally have no problem letting Cedric handle meetings alone, but this was clearly one Jasper wanted to be at.

All the girls gathered on the walkway above, even Mira, who tended to skip these covert viewings. We craned our necks, hoping to get a glimpse of the suitor who had caused both Cedric and Jasper to take notice.

“Not bad,” murmured Clara. I had to agree. Warren Doyle was only a few years older than us—something of a relief, since many gray-haired gentlemen had graced our door. Even from this height, I could see a face with strong, handsome features and jet-black hair pulled back into the short fashionable tail popular on both sides of the Sunset Sea.

“Mister Doyle,” said Jasper, taking the newcomer’s hand. “It is an honor.”

“Call me Warren, please. We might as well drop formalities since I plan on being quite straightforward here. It’s how I am—and, well, I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m no good with small talk.”

Jasper exchanged the briefest of looks with his son and then returned his smile to Warren. “Of course. Please—sit down.”

Warren did, clasping his hands in his lap. A daytime visit would have allowed more casual attire, but he was dressed formally in a russet coat and a vest of gold brocade. He could have attended our ball right now.

“I’m here about one of your girls. The top one—the one who led your procession, in the gray dress.”

I tensed.

“Do you mean Adelaide?” asked Cedric uncertainly.

“Is that her name?” asked Warren, brightening. “She is the best one, right? Isn’t that how your ranking works? She had brown hair—well, a golden brown. Very lovely.”

Mira grinned beside me. “He got your hair right. That should make you happy.”

“‘Best’ is a subjective term,” said Jasper delicately. “All of our girls are—”

Warren smiled kindly. “You don’t need to use your usual tactics on me. You don’t need to try to sell them all to me. I’m already sold. I want her. I need her. You see, I’ve been given governorship of the new colony of Hadisen.”

Jasper beamed, but I knew how he must be calculating. “Congratulations. That’s an incredible accomplishment for a man of your age, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Thank you,” said Warren, nodding eagerly. “I’m very, very fortunate. And that’s why it’s imperative I have an exemplary wife. She will be the first lady of the colony. Even in its rough stages, all will look to her as an example. And once we’re truly established, she’ll be the one in charge of all social affairs in my household. I need someone who excels in all areas—someone intelligent, cultured, and worthy of admiration. I assume, as your top girl—”

“Our diamond,” corrected Jasper. “We call her our diamond.”

“Your diamond then. I assume she must have surpassed all the others in every test. If I am to succeed in this venture, I must have an incomparable lady.”

I could feel the eyes of my companions upon me, trying to gauge my reaction. Mostly, I was stunned. After never hearing my name come up, I was shocked at this turn of events. There could be no greater position than a governor’s wife. And it hadn’t escaped my notice that it had been my inner qualities and aptitude that caught his attention as much as my looks. Most of the men who’d come through here had made beauty a top priority.

“She is certainly incomparable,” said Jasper. He managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “And I’ll tell you a secret—our opening ball is coming soon, so you only have to wait a few days to meet her.”

“I don’t really need to meet her,” said Warren. “I’m sure she’s exceptional. And I’d like to seal a marriage contract now.”

“That’s not . . . how it works,” said Cedric stiffly. “The girls meet all potential suitors in our social season. Then they choose.”

Warren was undaunted. “I don’t want to risk losing her to someone who might woo her with a lot of flash and no substance. I’ll put out a price to make it worth your while for removing her early—one I might not be willing to match if I have to wait. One thousand gold if you do the deal right now.”

Some of the girls near me gasped. There’d never been a sum like that offered in the Glittering Court’s history. It was double my starting fee.

Even Jasper couldn’t believe it. “That is a very generous sum, Mister Doyle. Warren.”

“I know what I’m asking is unorthodox,” explained Warren, almost sheepishly. “And that’s why I’m willing to compensate for altering your policy.”

“Understandable,” said Jasper, practically licking his lips. “And very considerate.”

“Our policy,” declared Cedric, shooting his father a warning glance, “is that she gets to see her options and choose. We can’t just sell her behind her back.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Warren. He seemed a little taken aback by Cedric’s tone. “I can meet her today and then seal our deal.”

“It would be a breach of our normal policy,” said Jasper. “But I’m sure, given the circumstance, there’d be no harm in her at least meeting him now and—”

“She gets to see her options and choose,” repeated Cedric. “It’s in her contract. No preemptive deals.”

I could tell Jasper was having a very difficult time maintaining his genial façade. He turned to Warren. “Forgive me; it’s clear this is a matter we must discuss at more length. Let us do so, and we’ll be in touch once we’ve made some decisions.”

Warren looked hesitant about leaving with things up in the air but finally gave a conciliatory nod. “Very well then. I look forward to your reply—and an early meeting before the ball. Thank you again for indulging me in my unorthodox approach.”

As soon as the Thorns had walked him out, Jasper pulled Cedric into their private office and shut the door. The rest of us retreated to our wing, where I was immediately accosted with questions and comments. I had no answers to give, and the chatter soon began to make my head ache. It was a relief when I was able to shut myself in my room with Mira. She gave me a sly smile.

“Well,” she said. “That was certainly an exciting turn to the day.”

I stretched out on my bed, still reeling. “That’s an understatement.”

“What will you do?” she asked.

“I don’t think I can do anything. The Thorns will decide.”

She sat down beside me. “If you went downstairs right now and said you’d take the deal, there’d be no protest. Not even from Cedric.”

I straightened up. “Do you think I should?”

“It’s not what I think that matters. But I know you’ve had your sights set high. And this is about as high as you can get.”

“It would certainly speak well for my future. I mean, that is what we’re here for.” Although we didn’t have to take the highest bidder’s offer, a man putting down a lot of money generally suggested he had the means to provide generously for his wife. It gave the Thorns a higher commission and also increased the bride’s surety money. “Although . . . it was kind of presumptuous, coming in here like that, wanting to buy ‘the best’ right now.”

Mira laughed. “It certainly was—though even he seemed to recognize that. There was a brazen and bumbling charm to it. At least he wasn’t one of the ones asking if he could buy ‘the Sirminican’ at a discount.”

I squeezed her hand. That was an offer we’d heard many times. “It was nice that he seemed more concerned with my character than my looks.”

“He already saw you. He doesn’t have to worry about your looks.”

“But you wouldn’t take the deal. You still want to pay off your own contract.”

She shrugged. “I told you, it’s not about what I think. But no, I’d do as Cedric said and see the rest of my options. You can still choose him later.”

“Tamsin would’ve taken the deal,” I said sadly.

“Tamsin would’ve called for a priest and offered to marry him on the spot,” Mira said.

My heart sank. “Tamsin should have been the one getting the offer. She should have been the diamond.”

Word reached me later that Cedric had won out against his father: I wouldn’t be meeting Warren until the ball. I suspected Jasper had caved in the hopes that, seeing me with other men, Warren might end up offering more. In the coming days, as the household was whipped into the frenzy Cedric had predicted, I found I had mixed feelings about what had happened with Warren. I respected what Cedric had fought for. On the other hand, I worried I might have cost Cedric the commission he needed. Really, what else was there to look for? Marrying Warren would put me in the closest position I could get to my former lifestyle here in the colonies. Hadisen was in no danger from the Icori. It was simply unsettled land needing a society to thrive in it and work its gold mines.

Somehow, amidst the pre-ball tumult, I found a chance to finish the painting when Mistress Culpepper was away. A small window in the cellar offered remarkably good light, and stepping back one day, I was astonished that I really had captured Thodoros’s style. It was my greatest work. An inexperienced buyer certainly wouldn’t know any different. An art expert probably wouldn’t.

The cellar door creaked open, and I turned with a start, relaxing when I saw Cedric come down the stairs. He stopped next to me and stared.

“That’s it,” he said.

“That’s it,” I confirmed.

“Amazing. I thought the poppies were incredible the day we met, but this . . . this is something else altogether.” He continued studying it, transfixed. “I’ll smuggle this out of here tonight, over to my agent. He’ll evaluate it and let me know what he thinks it’ll get, but something tells me it’ll be high. Enough to cover my Westhaven stake.”

“You know what else would’ve helped with your stake?” I asked archly. “A twenty percent commission on one thousand gold.”

Cedric turned from the painting and met my eyes. “Really? You came all this way and prepared for a season of galas only to skip them and marry the first man who wants you? Without even meeting him?”

“I would’ve met him eventually,” I argued. “And I never said that’s what I want. I’m just surprised you’ve taken such a stand. I thought securing an offer like that was top priority.”

“Securing your self-respect is top priority. I didn’t bring you into the Glittering Court so that you could be packed off to the first man who demands you.”

“Hey,” I retorted. “I brought myself into the Glittering Court.”

“You’re confirming my point. You’re too strong, too opinionated, to just let yourself go with the first offer. You deserve more. You deserve to have them lined up in front of you. Maybe you’ll want him after all, and that’s completely fine—even if it results in a lower fee. Or maybe you’ll like some other man. Maybe a few other men. Maybe there’ll be a bidding war. Maybe someone will beat his offer.”

“Maybe . . . but I find that last one unlikely. And I bet your father thinks it’s unlikely too.”

Cedric’s sighed. “He does. The substantial sum aside, he thought it best we get you signed and engaged before you open your mouth and ruin your chances—his words, not mine.”

“What?” I said, not even bothering to hide my indignation. “We’ll see about that. There are going to be plenty of men who like a woman who speaks her mind.”

“I agree. I certainly like your mouth.” Cedric suddenly seemed to reconsider his words. “Er, that’s not what I— Look. I just want you to have all your options. You deserve that.”

“And I want you to stay alive.”

“Me too.” He turned back to the painting and sighed. “And between this, your charms, and a little luck, we might just pull it all off.”