Chapter 17

Cedric held to his word about keeping me away from Warren. He didn’t appear on the schedule for the next few days. I encountered him once on an outing into town with the other girls, but it was too brief and too public for him to go off on one of his impassioned pleas. He made no secret of how excited he was to see me, and I responded as politely as I could, even as he bragged about how they’d arrested three Alanzans the night of the Star Advent—something that caused me pain because I knew it caused Cedric pain. On the bright side, there was no sign of his mother or any indication she was acting upon her threat.

I should have been pleased with this development. I should have used this time to think about my next move and how best to navigate these uncertain waters Viola Doyle had cast me into.

But mostly, I just thought about Cedric.

If I was being honest with myself, Cedric had been on my mind since the moment we met. I’d just worked to keep my feelings pushed off to the side of my mind. But now that I’d unlocked my heart and admitted to those feelings . . . well, now there was no keeping him out of my head. I found myself constantly replaying every moment from that night under the stars. The exact moment our lips had met. The way his fingers had loosened my hair. The boldness of his hand moving up to the side of my thigh—but never any farther.

Sometimes, at the right time of day, they can catch a glimpse of each other across the sky. Nothing more.

I couldn’t sleep. I could hardly eat. I moved around in a glorious haze, high on the thrill of what had happened between us, even though that high was dampened by the knowledge it wouldn’t—that it couldn’t—happen again.

At least he never told me it was a mistake. I always remembered that cautionary tale Tamsin had told us, about the girl she knew in Osfro who’d given up a lot more than kisses to a man who’d promised her everything, only to later tell her it had been a “misunderstanding.”

But Cedric never spoke of regrets or any other humiliating excuses. In some ways, that made it worse. It meant that he didn’t think it was a mistake. And I didn’t either. Neither of us could deny, however, that it complicated things.

So, really, we found it best to speak as little as possible to each other—not because of any animosity but because we simply didn’t trust ourselves. One day, however, communication was unavoidable. Several of us were about to go to a party, and he pulled me aside while the others were distracted. We stood several inches apart, and I counted every single one of them.

“I’ve found someone for you,” he told me, casting a quick look back at the doorway. “A good man—I could tell when I spoke to him. And then I verified it with some sources who know his servants. You can always tell a lot about someone by their servants.” Cedric hesitated. “And he’s very . . . candid. Amusing. I thought . . . well, I thought you’d like that too.”

Awkwardness joined the electric attraction between us. It was more than a little weird to have the man I so desperately wanted finding a suitable husband for me.

“Thank you for that,” I said, not sure what else to say.

“He’s out of town right now, but I’ve arranged for you to meet at the end of the week. There’s just one problem . . .”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Cedric, there are a lot of problems.”

“Don’t I know it. But he’s . . . well, he’s a lawyer. Still getting established. His house in town is small. Nice—but small. And he has only two servants.”

“I see.” A lawyer, while a respectable position here in the colonies, would not provide the luxury that, say, a plantation owner or shipping magnate would. Certainly not what a governor might offer. Two servants meant I’d most likely be helping with some of the household tasks.

“You’d always be provided for,” said Cedric quickly. “You’d be comfortable—still part of some social events. Not the top-tier ones . . . but some. And I’ve heard he’s good. He’ll most likely advance, maybe even move into a government position over time. It would be an outstanding match for many of the girls here.”

“But not necessarily the diamond.”

“No,” he agreed. “And he was uncertain you’d even want him—or that he could afford you. He could just afford your minimum bride price if he borrows, but there’s no promise of surety money. I convinced him you’d be worth it.”

I felt an ache in my chest. “Of course you did. You can sell salvation to a priest.”

He winced. “Adelaide, I know it’s not what you’d want—”

“No,” I interrupted. “It’s perfect. I’d rather live humbly with a man I can respect—maybe even like—than be pampered by someone who holds a sword over my head.”

“You will like him—” The words caught in Cedric’s throat.

I nearly reached for him but drew back before something happened I might not be able to control. I clenched my hand into a fist at my side. From the other room, I heard someone calling my name. Cedric and I stood together for a heartbeat, saying a million silent things, and then turned to join the others.

Mistress Culpepper clucked in disapproval when she saw me. “Adelaide, where is your jewelry? You’ve been forgetful all week—highly inappropriate for a girl of your rank.”

“Sorry, Mistress Culpepper.” My memory was so filled with details of a forbidden night, I supposed it had little room for much more.

Mistress Culpepper snatched the diamond necklace from a servant’s hand and held it out to Cedric. “Mister Thorn, can you put this on her? I swear if we make it there in time, it will be nothing short of a miracle! Now stand still. Honestly, between the missing wigs and now this, how many more things can go wrong tonight?” That last part was spoken to Rosamunde, who’d snapped a corset string. Mistress Culpepper was frantically trying to replace it.

Cedric stood frozen for a few moments, holding the necklace in his hand. It was made of teardrop-shaped diamonds, which I found appropriate. Not wanting to draw attention, he finally stepped behind me and placed the circlet around my neck. I held my breath, amazed that the whole room couldn’t see the effect he had on me. His body was right up against mine, and his hands trembled as he tried to fasten the necklace’s clasp. When he finally managed it, he smoothed the chain and brushed a few wayward tendrils of hair out of the way. His fingertips were as light as a feather, but I felt goose bumps break out along my skin. I didn’t exhale until he backed away.

At the end of the week, I finally had an opportunity to meet this lawyer at a party hosted by the Thorns. Several girls had offers now, and although Jasper wasn’t particularly concerned about the others, he’d decided to gather some of his favorite potential suitors all in one place as a way to further interest. A number of the most prominent Cape Triumph citizens had been invited, in the hopes we’d impress them and increase the buzz.

The guests began arriving at Wisteria Hollow well before dinner, and we were ready to charm them. Well, at least the others were. Although I’d been nothing but proper and pleasant at recent functions, developments with Cedric had made me even more uninterested in others than usual. I offered up no more than was expected of me and had once overheard a gentleman say, “That diamond girl is a lot duller than I expected.”

In another act of absentmindedness, I’d forgotten to put on rouge tonight. It seemed a minor thing, particularly since I wore so little anyway, but an already-stressed Mistress Culpepper acted as though the ruin of modern civilization was upon us. She ordered me back to my room, telling me to take the servants’ stairs in the back, lest anyone see my terrible breach of fashion.

As I moved through the kitchen, I overheard two men arguing in one of the food storage rooms. The kitchen staff was busy and barely noticed me as I lingered outside the door to eavesdrop.

“What do you mean he’s coming? He wasn’t put on the guest list!” Cedric exclaimed.

“You mean you didn’t put him on the guest list,” Jasper snapped. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but don’t think I haven’t noticed you cutting him out of her calendar! If you’re going to ruin this deal for us, then I need to take charge and fix things.”

“He’s not a good match for her,” Cedric said. “And she doesn’t like him.”

“How could she, when she’s barely gotten a chance to talk to him? Now get out there and be a charming host, and don’t screw this up any further!”

Jasper came storming out, and I shrank off to the side before he could see me. I stepped forward when Cedric appeared.

“I assume you were talking about Warren?”

“Yes,” he growled, anger sparking in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have anything to do with it—but don’t let it bother you. You don’t have to talk to him tonight, and if he tries to monopolize you, I’ll distract him.”

“Well, as friendly as things have been between you, I’m sure that won’t be hard,” I said.

“I’ll take care of it,” he insisted. “You just worry about getting to know Mister Adelton.”

He waited for me to get my rouge and then walked with me to the drawing room. We came to an uncomfortable halt at the doorway. Etiquette dictated a gentleman in his position—one who was my guardian, of sorts—escort me into the room. He offered his arm, and I slipped my hand through it. As soon as I did, I felt that jolt of electricity go through me. Cedric took a deep breath, equally affected.

“We can do this,” he said. “We’re both strong. We can do it.”

To my dismay, I saw Warren hadn’t come alone—his mother was with him. When he spied me from across the room, he lit up and began working his way toward me through the crowd. Cedric immediately made an abrupt turn and hurried me over to a corner where a thin man with sandy-colored hair stood sipping brandy. He was nice enough looking, though not as dashingly handsome as Cedric—but then, who could be?

“Mister Nicholas Adelton,” announced Cedric. “May I present Miss Adelaide Bailey.”

Nicholas took my hand with a smile. “Miss Bailey, the reports I heard of you don’t do you justice—which is astonishing, considering how effusive Mister Thorn was in his description.”

I smiled back. “He’s a salesman, Mister Adelton. It’s his job.”

“Most of the salesmen I’ve met sell nothing but snake oil. Something tells me that—”

He was interrupted when Warren finally made his way to us. “Adelaide! I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

The charm I’d started to turn on for Nicholas instantly faded. “Mister Doyle,” I said, responding formally to his use of my first name. “How nice that you could come.”

He glanced over at Nicholas. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s imperative that I—”

Cedric swiftly stepped forward and moved to Warren’s side, blocking me from him. “Mister Doyle! I’m so glad you’re here.”

Warren gave him a wary look. “You are?”

“Yes. There are all sorts of rumors about the Lorandians amassing soldiers on the borders of the northwestern colonies—some even harassing the forts up there. I was hoping you could provide some insight—after all, I’ve heard that no one in town is more knowledgeable about the Lorandians than you. You stayed with them back on the continent, didn’t you? I assume you must still know something of their affairs—unless you’ve let yourself get out of date.”

“Well, I . . .” Warren grew uncertain, torn between his ardent pursuit of me and the irresistible lure of Cedric’s suggestion that Warren might be lacking in knowledge. Cedric pounced on that indecision and physically steered Warren away.

“Come, let’s get a drink and discuss it further. We don’t want to bore these two with politics.” And within moments, he had Warren halfway across the room.

Nicholas watched them with amusement. “He’s very good at his job. I imagine it’s tougher than it looks.”

“Yes,” I agreed a bit sadly.

He focused back on me. “But I imagine this is a tough job for you too. It must be like being on stage, right? Always on display, never showing weakness. Looking at you all tonight . . . it’s kind of incredible. Every detail perfect. But do you ever feel like . . . well, forgive me if this is offensive, do you ever feel like commodities for sale in some shop window?”

It took me a moment to answer. We were coming upon the third week of our social season, and no man had ever thought to ask me anything like that. “Yes,” I admitted. “All the time.”

That honesty unlocked an ease between us, and we fell into avid conversation. I saw that Cedric was right about Nicholas being candid and funny, and he seemed to appreciate those qualities in me as well. We even talked a little about his legal practice, and I could tell he was surprised that I was so informed about law and politics. Under any other circumstances, I could have easily been this man’s friend. Because despite how interesting he was, he mustered nothing more than fond feelings within me. But he was the most appealing of all the suitors I’d met so far. I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering Cedric had handpicked him. Cedric knew me that well. And as the night progressed, I tried to decide: If I couldn’t give Nicholas my love, could I give him a happy enough marriage? It would be unfair otherwise.

At dinner, Cedric contrived to have Nicholas sit beside me—with Warren far down at the other end. He would occasionally shoot me pining looks, while Viola simply glared daggers. On the other side of me was an older gentleman, grumbling about how Cape Triumph was “falling into chaos.”

“Anarchy,” he told Nicholas and me. “That’s what’s happening here. The governor needs to get control before these miscreants take over. Did you hear that those Alanzan heretics they caught last week have already escaped from jail? And where is the army? Why are more and more soldiers going to other colonies? Icori are amassing in the west—they haven’t left, no matter what those fools say. Then there’s the pirates. A royal tax ship bound for Osfrid was taken last week. The nerve.”

“I don’t think anyone was too upset,” remarked Nicholas. “At least not in the colonies. Too many think we’re overtaxed as it is.”

“It’s about the larger picture,” the man insisted. “If the king’s ships aren’t off-limits, then what is? Pirates don’t even stick to the seas anymore. I hear those devils walk the street now. Billy Marshall. Bones Jacobi. Tim Shortsleeves.”

“I believe his name is Tom Shortsleeves. And don’t forget there are some lady pirates as well,” I said. Mira lived for the stories of Cape Triumph’s pirates and kept me informed. If one of them had made an offer to her, she probably would’ve been married by now. “Joanna Steel. Lady Aviel.”

“And if the stories are true, they’ve saved a number of innocents,” added Nicholas. “From thieves and whatnot.”

The other man frowned. “Yes, and that’s all well and good . . . but they’re still outlaws! And having women involved . . . with swords? Can you even imagine such a thing? What’s to become of this world if such a thing catches on?”

“Indeed,” said Nicholas, deadpan. “If women start defending themselves, what use will they have for us?”

I had to cough to cover a laugh. This drew my neighbor’s attention to me, and I groped for a response. “Well . . . at least I hear they dress well. They aren’t shoddy pirates. What is it they say? Golden cloaks, peacock feathers. It all sounds very flashy to me.”

“I’ve never trusted peacocks,” growled the man. “Everyone goes on about how beautiful they are, but have you ever seen one up close? There’s a look in those beady little eyes of theirs. They know more than they’re letting on.” He closed the conversation by downing an entire cup of wine in one go.

When dinner ended and we retired for drinks, Nicholas couldn’t entirely monopolize me. Courtesy dictated I speak to others—but none of them were Warren. With whatever magic Cedric worked, Warren remained occupied. Once, I saw Mira avidly engaging him in conversation. Well, she was engaged. He looked trapped. I wondered if Cedric had sent her.

As the evening wrapped up and guests departed, Cedric caught me for a private moment.

“Well?” he asked.

“He’s everything you promised. I actually had a nice time.”

“Excellent.” Normally, Cedric would’ve looked smugger over such a triumph. Not so tonight. “I’ll have to work on him a little more, but if all goes well, I think I could expedite an offer and manage a covert wedding before the Doyles catch on. Unorthodox, but so long as I’ve handled the paperwork correctly and he pays your minimum, there’s nothing that goes against contract.”

“That’s great. That’s really . . .” The words caught in my throat, and I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t pretend gladness over a wedding I didn’t want, not when Cedric was standing in front of me. I rarely cried, but tears started to form in my eyes. Angrily, I blinked them away.

“Adelaide . . .” In his voice, I heard the same anguish I felt. His hand started to move toward me, and then he sharply pulled it away, clenching it as I’d done with mine earlier.

“There you are!”

Jasper strode up to us, and he was fuming. It was a rare sight, compared to his genteel public persona. “Adelaide, Mister Doyle and his mother are about to leave. You will go over to them now and bid them a proper farewell, with a promise to see them at another time.”

“Father—”

“No.” Jasper held a warning finger up to Cedric. “I don’t want to hear another word. You’ve already ruined this night by throwing her together with that lawyer! Do you think he can pay her minimum? He’s certainly not going to bid more if others are interested. I told you before, I will not let you ruin this.” Jasper fixed his hard gaze on me. “Now. Go.”

Cedric started to protest, but I waved it away. I didn’t want him in any more trouble. I gave Jasper a small curtsey. “Of course, Mister Thorn.”

Across the room, Warren and Viola were indeed making their exit. “Adelaide,” said Warren. “What a pity we couldn’t talk more. I wanted to tell you about some developments with the gold fields in Hadisen.”

“How fascinating,” I said, conscious of Jasper watching me. “Perhaps we could do it another time. I would so love to hear more.”

“Oh?” asked Viola archly. “I thought you were more interested in the law.”

I smiled sweetly. “Oh, Mistress Doyle. You know how these things are. They have us make the rounds—meet new people. It’s just a formality.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “It’d be a shame for you to be singling anyone out this soon.”

I nodded, even though it really wasn’t early in the season anymore, especially with so many girls having made contracts already. “Indeed. I’m just trying to be courteous.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Well then, perhaps you will soon be motivated to show Warren the courtesy of a private visit. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were putting on airs or behaving above your rank.”

I swallowed. “Certainly not.”

The party didn’t run as late as many of our others, but when morning came around, most of us were exhausted. It had all been wrapped in glitter and decorum, but these last few weeks had been grueling. As Nicholas Adelton had said, it was a tough job, no matter the surface appearance.

Some of the engaged girls still attended parties; others had opted out and now busily planned their weddings. The Glittering Court had no involvement in the wedding once the paperwork and payments were settled. Each girl was allowed to keep one dress, which she usually was married in. The extent of the rest of the wedding depended on the prospective husband. Some threw grandiose affairs. Some were too wiped out financially to afford much more than a magistrate’s fees.

Mistress Culpepper maintained a strict schedule and required all of us, engaged or not, to eat breakfast at exactly the same time each day. I didn’t mind the early wakeup, if only because breakfast was a brief reprieve from our social whirl. The Thorns, able to eat at their leisure, strolled in near the end of our meal, as was typical. Mistress Culpepper quickly found them chairs, seating Cedric next to me. I didn’t dare look at him, but the proximity made our legs touch under the table. At first, I kept my leg tense, but then I let it relax against his. I felt him do the same. For the remainder of the meal, I had no idea what I ate or said. My entire world focused on that touch.

One of the men who guarded the door called out that we had a guest. Mistress Culpepper hurried out of the dining room to investigate, and none of us reacted with much interest. Servants and messengers came and went at all times. Men with more serious intentions were politely told to come back later if they didn’t have an appointment.

So, it was a surprise when a pale Mistress Culpepper returned to us with a tall man following her. He wore a cheap, ill-fitting suit in plain worsted wool, which had to be uncomfortable with the recent spring turn our weather had taken. Gray streaked his thinning hair, and hard lines were etched into his face. Clearly, this was no enterprising suitor. Everyone around the table looked puzzled—everyone except Mira, oddly enough. She straightened up in her chair, eyes sharp. I couldn’t entirely decipher her expression. Shocked? Calculating? Maybe a little of both.

Charles rose from the table, straightening his jacket. He was as clueless as the rest of us, but he knew there had to be a reason Mistress Culpepper had admitted a guest at this hour. “May I help you, sir?”

The stranger gave a curt nod. “My name is Silas Garrett. I’m with the McGraw Agency.”

If anyone had thought this would be a boring morning, those notions were quickly shut down. The McGraw Agency was a group based out of Osfro who investigated all sorts of matters for those who could pay well enough. Technically, they were an independent organization, but we all knew they had royal authority to enforce the law. Their agents were notoriously ruthless and determined in their missions, going to great lengths—covert or overt—to achieve their goals. They investigated everything from infidelity among minor nobles to espionage for the king. There had been rumors of them being active in the New World, but no one knew for what, or who had employed them.

Jasper strolled up beside his brother. “My goodness. We rarely entertain gentlemen of such standing. I don’t suppose you’re looking for a wife?”

Silas Garrett didn’t crack a smile. “No, but I’m here looking for a woman.”

I don’t know how I knew then, but suddenly, I just did. My whole body stiffened, and I felt Cedric’s hand clasp mine under the table. I didn’t dare look at him, but I understood the message: Stay calm.

“I’m here on undisclosed business of my own, but I have a colleague up in Archerwood who was hired last summer to investigate the possibility that a runaway noblewoman had fled here from Osfrid,” Silas explained. “He’s had little luck—not surprising since Adoria’s such a big place, and he had no real clues about which colony she might have gone to.”

“Understandable,” said Charles. “Forgive me, but what does that have to do with us?”

Silas glanced between Charles and Jasper with hard eyes. “Well, I was recently given a tip that the lady in question might very well be in Cape Triumph—and that your household might have information about her whereabouts.”

“Us?” asked Charles. “How in the world would we know anything about a missing woman?”

“A noblewoman,” corrected Silas. “Lady Witmore, Countess of Rothford.”

Cedric’s hand tightened its grip.

“Countess . . .” Jasper’s brow knitted into a frown. “You don’t mean that business that stopped us in Osfro that night?”

“What night?” demanded Silas.

“Cedric and I were bringing a group of girls out last spring. They were stopping everyone at the city gates. We were searched and sent on our way.” Jasper glanced at his son. “You remember that, don’t you?”

Cedric nodded, wearing the open expression of someone who was simply pleasantly curious. “I do. It was causing quite a stir. Why’s it coming up again?”

“As I said, we received a tip that there might be some lead on the lady here in your household.” Silas glanced around those of us gathered at the table. “You have a great many girls here—the same age as Lady Witmore.”

Jasper’s smile stiffened, but only a little. “Yes, we do. Just as we do every year. It’s our business, Mister Garrett. We bring girls of marriageable age here from Osfrid. I can’t help it if your countess is the same age.”

“How would you even expect to find her?” asked Charles. “Surely you aren’t going to go blindly accusing my girls.”

“No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m merely following up on this lead and will send a letter to my colleague up north. All I know is that the lady has brown hair. He has a small portrait.” Silas’s manner was perfectly polite, but I saw his gaze linger briefly on every brown-haired girl at the table, including me. It was a relief that there were three others. “If he comes here, I’m sure he’ll bring it to confirm her identity. Can you verify that all of these girls come from the places they say?”

“These girls are from common backgrounds,” said Jasper. “Illiterate laborers don’t exactly keep extensive paperwork on their daughters. But I can tell you either my son or I saw the households each one came from. No countesses.”

“If we did have one,” quipped Cedric, “we could certainly charge a lot more.”

Silas turned his stare on Cedric, clearly not appreciating the joke. I could tell Cedric was going out of his way to be relaxed and affable, so as not to appear suspicious. But he would have been better off imitating his father and uncle, who were polite but both somewhat affronted.

“Mister Garrett,” said Jasper. “I respect what you do—I really do. But we already went through this in Osfro a year ago. I don’t know what it is that causes the eye of suspicion to keep falling on us, but please, until you have something more concrete than a ‘tip,’ I’d thank you to remember we’re trying to run a respectable business.”

“Of course,” said Silas, turning toward the doorway. “I’ll most certainly be back if I know more.”

“Before you go,” called Cedric. “I’m terribly curious about where you got this tip.”

“Anonymous,” said Silas. “Showed up late last night.”

It was hard to keep my panic down until Cedric and I caught a quick moment alone later in the day, just before some suitors were coming for afternoon tea.

“His partner has a portrait!” I hissed. “No doubt supplied by my grandmother when she hired him to come to Adoria.”

Cedric’s face was grim. “And Mister Garrett’s ‘tip’ was most certainly from the Doyles.”

“Viola. Warren still seems so . . . I don’t know. Hapless. She suggested that I might become ‘motivated’ to pay more attention to him.”

“And thus the motivation is possible exposure and capture— assuming you don’t get married first.”

I briefly closed my eyes. “And no doubt she’s hoping I’ll panic and use Warren for the marriage that will save me.”

“No.” Cedric stepped toward me and held my hands, a dangerous gesture when anyone in the house might walk right into this parlor. “I told you before, you won’t be forced to do that. We’ll get things settled with Nicholas Adelton and get them settled quickly. But while we do . . .”

I eyed him carefully. Tenderness filled his face, but I could tell there was something he was hesitant to tell me. “Yes?” I prompted.

“We’re going to need to make sure the Doyles don’t take any more action. We need to pacify them.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Adelaide. But you’re going to have to make it look like you want him.”