The Glittering Court (24 page)

You could do a lot worse than Nicholas Adelton,
I told myself.
Even if it means becoming Adelaide Adelton.

Viola, across the room, caught my eye just then. It only strengthened my resolve, and I turned back to Nicholas. I pushed away my heartache, trying to ignore the way every part of my being cried out for Cedric. “Yes,” I said to Nicholas. “I'm certain. If Mister Thorn can take care of the technicalities, I want to do it. And he will. He always does what he says he will.”

I finished the dance with a heavy heart and expected my next one to be with Warren. Instead, it was Viola who swept me to the side of the room. “Adelaide, dear, I feel like we haven't spoken in ages.”

That was true. While I'd dutifully spent time with Warren, I'd gone out of my way to avoid her.

“It's been a very busy time,” I said.

She smiled, her lips thin and tight like a snake's. “Yes, I'm sure. But a pleasant time, no doubt. Warren can't stop talking about how much he's enjoyed your company. I'm sure the feeling is mutual.”

“He's every girl's dream.”

“Indeed. And yet, he remains unwed. Not even promised. You can imagine how distressing this is to me, especially with his departure for Hadisen coming so soon.” She sighed dramatically. “I'd feel so much better if everything was settled. I hate loose ends, don't you? I hear
Silas Garrett does as well. His partner is en route to Cape Triumph. Should be here any day.”

I kept a frozen smile on my face as I scrutinized her. Was she bluffing? Hard to say. “I'm sure it'll be a great relief to them to figure things out once and for all.”

“And I'm sure it'll be a great relief to
you
to no longer worry about what they do or do not figure out.” When I didn't answer, her sickeningly sweet expression dissolved. “Stop delaying. You can do no better. You'd be in no danger of returning to Osfrid. Do this, and make everyone's life easier—because I assure you, dear, I can make yours much more difficult.”

Warren came up to us just then. “Mother, I didn't expect you of all people to steal Adelaide away.”

Viola's smile turned beatific. “Well, we didn't want to bore you with details . . . you know, the sorts of details that really only matter to women when nuptials are involved.”

He looked between us both incredulously. “Nuptials . . . you don't mean . . .”

“I think our dear Adelaide has stopped teasing us at last,” said Viola.

“Is this true?” Warren caught hold of my hands. “You've accepted? We should announce it right now! It's the perfect night.”

That anxious tightness in my chest returned, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “No—no. No announcements tonight. I mean, your mother and I have been speaking informally, but nothing can go forward . . .” I trailed off, staring across the room to where I could see Cedric speaking impassionedly to Nicholas. Nicholas was beaming, so I hoped that was promising news. “Nothing can go forward until all the details are drawn up with the Thorns. The marriage price, contracts . . . it wouldn't be proper to announce before the rest is official. I wouldn't feel right about it.”

Viola's eyes narrowed, and Warren looked a little crestfallen but not too terribly put out. Meanwhile, my thoughts were racing. What
would this do for me? How much time would it buy? No doubt the Doyles would be knocking on our door tomorrow to settle the deal. Could I put it off perhaps another day? Maybe even two? Cedric and Nicholas had become lost among the revelers, so I had no idea how that plan was developing. What had I just unofficially agreed to?

“Come,” said Warren. “At the very least, let's have a celebratory dance—even if it's only the two of us celebrating.”

There was no escape for me here. No allies. Only a sea of masked dancers, chattering and laughing about springtime and the renewal of life. I felt like darkness was closing in over me.

“Of course,” I said stiffly. “I'd love to.”

We danced for most of the rest of the night. A couple of bold suitors took a turn, but Warren moved in such a confident, almost proprietary way that most men simply steered clear of us. When Aiana told me our group was leaving, I barely even heard his words of farewell and promise to stop by tomorrow. I gave a polite nod and then rushed out to join the others. The night was fair and warm, and I needed air to think clearly. Before I could scarcely draw breath, I was led into a coach and then taken straight home to Wisteria Hollow.

I threw open the window when I reached my bedroom and sat there gulping in deep breaths, trying to steady myself. It wasn't enough. That trapped feeling I'd had at the ball wouldn't leave me. I needed to be out of this room, out of this house—out of this life. I felt like I had back in Osfro, locked in a glittering cage that so many admired, little knowing it was suffocating me. Not caring what trouble I got in, I left the room still in my gala clothes, pausing only then to realize Mira should have joined me. All the other girls were back in their rooms. I kept moving. Mira was out making her own choices, whatever they might be. I couldn't fault her for that.

I headed down the hall to the small closet that led to the back staircase. I took it up to the attic level, nearly tripping over my long skirts in my haste. When I reached the landing, I flung open the window and was fully ready to climb down when a voice behind me said
my name. I spun around and cringed when a masked figure stepped forward. Half a second later, just as he removed the mask, I realized it was Cedric.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “I was hoping to sneak into your room and talk, when I saw you go through this door.”

“I'm getting out. I have to think . . . I can't think here. I can't breathe here. I have to get out for a while. Somewhere. Anywhere but here.” I started to lift my foot up onto the window seat, and he grabbed hold of my arm, shutting the window behind me.

“Calm down. You can't climb down that damned trellis in those shoes.” He urged me down to the window seat. “Sit, and tell me what's wrong.”

I turned to him in amazement. “What's wrong? How can you ask what's wrong? Everything is wrong! I just more or less agreed to marry Warren Doyle tonight!”

“More or less?”

I found myself rambling, scarcely drawing breath. “His mother—Viola—she forced my hand. I couldn't say no. All I could do was delay. Told them I would but that nothing was official until it had been settled here. Paperwork and all that. I don't know what it bought me. Maybe a couple of days? But you know they'll be vicious; they aren't going to—”

“Okay, okay,” said Cedric, lacing his fingers through mine. “It's okay. Nothing's settled yet. They don't have you, not yet. And you don't need to stall a couple of days. You only need to stall until tomorrow morning.”

His words jolted me out of my near-hysterical state. “What do you mean?”

“Nicholas Adelton is willing—you must know that already after talking to him. The trick was making it legal, but I found a magistrate who'll marry you tomorrow morning in a private ceremony. Most, knowing your involvement with the Glittering Court, wouldn't have done it. He doesn't care so long as you're eighteen and a free citizen of
Osfrid. I'll draw up all the paperwork tonight, log the payment, and you'll be married in the morning.”

I was dumbfounded. “In the morning.”

He squeezed my hands. “Yes. It's going to create a lot of upset . . . to put it mildly. My father and Uncle Charles. The Doyles—especially if they're clinging to this soft promise you made them. But we'll have the law on our side. We'll even have the Glittering Court's technicalities on our side. No matter how much the others complain, they won't be able to do anything about it.”

I had a feeling that “complaining” would be putting it mildly. “You'll be lucky if your father lets you stay on and collect any commissions. Whether it's enough for Westhaven will be irrelevant.”

“Let me worry about Westhaven,” Cedric said adamantly. He leaned into me, his presence steady and secure. “All you have to do is get to your wedding in the morning. I know it's not the luxury arrangement you imagined, but he'll be good to you. You'll be safe.”

“I don't need luxury.” My response came as fiercely as his. “I can be a mistress of a modest household. I can be a charming companion on his arm at social gatherings. I can be his friend. I can go to his bed and—”

The words caught in my throat, and I couldn't finish. Everything else I could do with Nicholas Adelton—but not that last one. Maybe I could have once—before Cedric—but not anymore. I couldn't even give voice to it.

Cedric turned me so that I faced him and gently lifted the glittering mask off my face. I'd been in such a frenzy upon leaving the gala that I'd never noticed I was still wearing it. It had hidden the tears welling up in my eyes. He wiped them away and cupped my face in his hands, leaning close so that our foreheads touched. Gone was the satisfaction of his victory with Nicholas. Now there was only melancholy left—and a longing that matched my own.

“El—”

“Don't.” I pressed a finger to his lips. “Don't call me that. That's not
my name anymore. I'm Adelaide. This is my life now—the one that began the day I met you.”

He caught hold of my hand so that he could kiss each of my fingers. A tremor went through him, and he looked away. “You shouldn't say that. Not when you're getting married tomorrow.”

“Do you think that changes how I feel?” I reached out and turned his face back toward mine. “Do you think my being someone else's wife will change anything? Don't you know that I'd lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon? That I'd defy the laws of gods and men for you?”

I couldn't even say who started the kissing then. Maybe there was no true start. Maybe it was just a continuation of what we'd begun that night among the stars. Wrapped in his arms, wrapped in
him
, I couldn't believe I'd somehow gone the last week without touching him.
Really
touching him—not those stolen brushes of fingertips and legs. I had danced with dozens of men in this month and never felt a flicker of what I felt when Cedric simply looked at me.

He shifted so that my back was pressed against the window, and I pulled him as close to me as I could. I undid the tie that held his hair back, releasing it around his face. He delicately ran his hands along where the dress exposed one shoulder and then brought his lips down to it. The heat of his mouth against my bare flesh undid me, and I arched my body against his. He pulled back abruptly, breathing ragged.

“You told me once—”

“That I planned on staying virtuous until my wedding night?” I guessed. “That's true. It's a principle I believe in. But, well, I have a very creative definition of ‘virtuous.' And if this is the last night I can be with you, I plan on pushing the limits of that definition as far as they can go.”

His mouth was on mine again, filled with a demand that made me shudder. His hands slowly moved up my hips—up, up until they reached the top of the dress's low-cut bodice. He traced the edge of the
neckline and then began untying the intricate silver laces that held it all together. I'd nearly pried his suit coat off when the door to the attic landing suddenly opened.

Mira had warned me she thought someone else was using this window as an escape, but I'd never really expected to cross paths with that person.

And I'd certainly never expected it would be Clara.

Chapter 19

To say there was a lot of fallout would be something of an understatement.

I'd feared many things since coming to Adoria. I'd worried I'd be forced into a marriage I didn't want. I'd been concerned the discovery of my identity would get me dragged back to Osfrid. And most of all, I'd always, always feared for Cedric being hung as a heretic.

But being hauled into Charles and Jasper's office for “indecent behavior” had never crossed my mind.

“Do you know what you've done?” Jasper cried. “Do you have any idea what you've done? This will ruin us!”

Cedric and I sat side by side in hard-backed wooden chairs while Jasper paced in front of us with hands clasped behind his back, very much like some sort of courtroom attorney. Charles stood against the opposite wall and looked as though he was still having trouble coming to terms with these new developments. It was the morning after “the incident.” We'd both been sent back to our respective rooms last night, with hired men on watch, in case we attempted to flee.

“I think ‘ruin' is kind of a strong term,” said Cedric calmly.

“Oh, really?” Jasper came to a halt in front of us. Fury smoldered in his eyes. “You don't think this is going to get out? Because I assure you, it's
already
gotten out. The rest of the girls are under lockdown, but the servants and the hired men know. This will be all over Cape Triumph by the end of the day, and no man will come near us. I'm not naïve. I know some of these girls didn't come to us as blushing
maidens.” Charles looked startled by that revelation. “But we've always preserved that image of purity, letting our prospective clients believe their wife's virtue is still intact. Now, there's hard proof that that's not the case.”

The mention of virtue reminded me of my own glib words last night:
I have a very creative definition of “virtuous.”

“Nothing happened.” Cedric was remaining remarkably cool-headed, given the situation. Maybe it was the result of years of dealing with his father's moods. “Her virtue
is
still intact.”

Jasper fixed me with a look I didn't like. It made me feel . . . unclean. “Oh? I have a hard time believing that. From what I heard, her clothes were scattered across the floor.”

A deep blush filled my cheeks. “That's a lie. That's Clara trying to make things worse.”

“Well, at least you're acknowledging things are bad to begin with,” snapped Jasper. “The truth doesn't matter. It will get twisted—for the worse. By the time this story's told enough, you'll be as brazen as some Alanzan harlot sprawled in the grass. Everyone's going to know my son had his way with one of our girls. And everyone's going to think that's how it is—that all the men here are sampling our goods.”

I didn't like being referred to as “goods,” but the rest of his words struck me in a way I hadn't expected. Cedric's silence told me they'd affected him as well.

Seeing he'd gotten through to us, Jasper added, “I know you think I'm ruthless—that I go too far to make a profit. And maybe that's true. But one thing I've always done is maintain a reputable business. Now that's all been called into question.”

“Then I'll make it right,” said Cedric. “I'll marry her.”

“Cedric—” I began. I had no problem with the idea of marrying him, but he had to know the obstacles standing in our way were nearly insurmountable. Jasper knew that as well.

“Do you have a fortune set aside that I don't know about? A stash of gold under your bed that will cover her price?”

Cedric's jaw clenched. I hated seeing him humiliated, but Jasper's point was valid. Cedric didn't even have the funds to buy his stake yet, not until the painting deal went through—
if
it went through. And clearly, my commission was off the table.

“She still has time left on her contract,” replied Cedric. “I'll earn the fee.” I was about to say Cedric had better things to spend his money on—hoping he'd pick up on the hint about Westhaven. But then he said something that sent me reeling: “I love her.”

A bright feeling blossomed within me. It was the first time the subject of love had ever come up between us, though I don't think either of us had ever doubted it was there. Uncaring of Jasper's disapproval, I found Cedric's hand and clasped it. “I love him too.”

Jasper rolled his eyes. “This is all very touching, but unfortunately, we live in the real world—not some cheap copper romance novel.”

Charles cleared his throat, expression uncertain. “Perhaps . . . perhaps we could lend him the fee. He
is
family, after all.”

“No,” said Jasper swiftly. “No special treatment. He violated our policies, and he'll live with those consequences. If others know he received a favor, it'll only worsen things—confirm the idea that we're taking liberties here. He'll deal with this disaster the same way anyone else would have to.”

“
We
will deal with this,” I corrected.

A knock at the door stopped Jasper from rolling his eyes again. He nodded for Charles to open the door, and sighed. “This had better not be another one of those girls finding some excuse to get a peek in here. I'm sure they're all gathered outside the door trying to listen.”

But it was no eavesdropping girl. Instead, it was Mistress Culpepper who stood there when Charles opened the door. “Forgive me,” she said, face contrite. “But Mister Doyle and his mother are here. I wasn't sure if I should send them away or not.”

Jasper groaned and briefly covered his eyes with his hand. “And there's another thing destroyed by this debacle. I told you this would spread.” He deliberated a moment and then gave a nod to Mistress
Culpepper. “Yes. Bring them in, and let's get their outrage over and done with. It's no more than you two deserve.”

Warren and Viola soon entered. Both were dressed exceptionally formally for a morning call, the dark color of their clothing seeming to emphasize the gravity of the situation. I could tell immediately they knew what had happened. Jasper personally escorted Viola to a seat, and Charles hastily arranged the office chairs in a semicircle, as though this were some friendly social occasion in a parlor.

The exasperation Jasper had displayed before was wiped away. He was in performance mode and wouldn't show any weakness to the Doyles. “Mistress Doyle,” he began. “It's always such a delight to have you in our home. I swear, you grow lovelier each time—”

She held up a hand to silence him. “Oh, stop with your con man's prattle. You know why we're here.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “We demand justice for the appalling, deceitful way she—”

“Mother,” interrupted Warren. “That is
not
why we're here. Although I'm sure you can all imagine our shock when a messenger showed up at our house this morning with the, uh, news.”

Jasper put on a look of perfect contrition. “And I'm sure you can imagine how truly sorry we are for any miscommunication that may have happened in our recent interactions.”

“‘Miscommunication?'” Viola's eyes widened. “
Miscommunication?
That girl said she'd marry my son last night. Then we hear this morning that she went straight into
your
son's bed. That doesn't really seem like a laughable misunderstanding.”

“Again,” said Jasper, “we are truly sorry for the inconvenience this may have caused you. You have every reason to be upset.”

“Upset, certainly . . .” Warren grew hesitant as he glanced between Cedric and me. “But not necessarily surprised.”

Even Jasper faltered. “You knew?”

Warren gestured toward Cedric and me. “About this specifically? No, no, of course not. But I could always tell there was something holding her back. No matter my entreaties, no matter how faultless
I thought my logic . . . well, none of it worked. And I kept thinking, ‘What good reason could she have for not accepting?' Now I understand.”

“She's a conniving little—”

“Mother,” warned Warren. His civility toward us incensed her, and honestly, I was surprised by his attitude as well. “Tell me, Mister Thorn. What's going to happen now?”

Jasper was back in comfortable territory. “Well, the first thing that's going to happen is that you will have top priority in socializing with any of our remaining girls. And of course, there'll be a substantial discount—”

“No,” said Warren. “I mean to
them
.”

I could practically see the wheels spinning in Jasper's head as he tried to figure out how he might best get out of this situation with his business and reputation intact.

“Well, Mister Doyle, we run a pristine establishment. Honor and virtue are values we hold very highly. You've no doubt heard some sordid exaggerations about what happened last night—when the truth is much blander, I'm afraid. My son and this young lady, of course, plan to marry.”

Cedric and I exchanged only the briefest of amused glances at Jasper suddenly signing on to that plan.

“How kind.” Ice filled Viola's voice. “You're giving your son a beautifully wrapped, glittering gift. An expensive one at that, considering what you were trying to charge the rest of us.”

“And he'll be paying the same,” said Jasper. “There is no special treatment around here when it comes to our girls. No gifts. Before they're married, he'll pay the base fee that any other man would have.”

Viola regarded Cedric incredulously. “And pray tell, young man, where will you be getting such funds? Are your father's wages that good?”

“Many things are still being worked out, Mistress Doyle,” Cedric replied.

Warren gave us an indulgent smile. “Well, perhaps I can help them work a little more easily.”

From the way Viola's head whipped around to look at her son, it was clear this was an unplanned turn of events. No one in the room really knew what to expect, and I had no reason to believe anything altruistic was to come, despite the smile Warren gave me.

“Adelaide, you've heard me speak many times about the gold claims in Hadisen and how we don't have enough men to work them. I personally own a number of them, and they're simply lying around. What I'd like to propose is that Mister Thorn take on one of those claims and mine it for me.”

That stunned us all to silence. After almost a minute of processing, Jasper unsurprisingly spoke first. “You want my son—
my
son—to mine a gold claim for you? You know he was a university student, don't you? Studying business? He's never done real manual labor in his life. He doesn't even like the outdoors.”

I wondered what Jasper would think if he knew the truth about his son's spiritual practices.

“Forgive me if I sound ungrateful, but can you elaborate on how this would help me?” asked Cedric.

“I own the land, and you would own the right to work and control it,” explained Warren. “And you keep whatever gold you can mine out of it—after paying me an owner's commission, of course.” He beamed. “If you get lucky, you could strike it big right away and solve all your financial problems!”

“But most people don't strike it big right away,” pointed out Jasper. “Otherwise, Hadisen and the other gold colonies would be filled with mansions instead of shantytowns. Your offer is very kind, but Adelaide's fee must be paid in less than two months in order for her to meet the terms of her contract. There are no guarantees of that.”

“I'll guarantee the fee,” said Warren. “Should he not mine enough within the time frame, I'll cover the fee to meet her contract, and his debt will switch over to me.”

Warren's face was open and guileless, but I felt a chill run down my back. I didn't like the idea of Cedric being indebted to someone, especially this someone. And I certainly didn't trust Warren's being so generous about all of this. His mother, as it turned out, didn't like it either.

“Warren,” she scolded. “This is preposterous! You have no business giving him a claim title. You don't owe him anything. We were supposed to come here to express our outrage and hire an attorney to file a formal grievance! Helping him further this illicit relationship was never part of our discussion this morning.”

Warren turned to her, exasperated. “What good would any of that do, Mother? Soothe your hurt feelings? Or do you expect me to bully them into letting me marry a woman whose heart belongs to another?”

“Well, not anymore! Not now that she's used goods.”

I shot to my feet, angered at being referred to as “goods” again—and in a much less flattering way. “I beg your pardon, Mistress Doyle, but there's nothing ‘used' here. I'm still a virgin and will stay that way until my wedding night. It's true this situation has gone in a direction none of us expected, but my morals have remained the same.”

Viola crossed her arms. “I don't like it, Warren. I don't like it at all.”

“And I don't like it that I have gold just lying around in Hadisen! Squatters have already started moving in. I want honest, hardworking men I can trust on those claims—law-abiding men who follow the rules. Would I have liked to marry Adelaide?” His eyes held me for a fraction of a second as I sat back down beside Cedric. “Yes. But as I said, I could hardly marry her knowing she loves someone else. And so, instead of a wife, I have a potential settler. Mister Thorn here is exactly the kind of person I'd like to help build Hadisen into greatness—assuming he wants to stay. Once your debt is paid, you'd be under no obligation, Mister Thorn. But our colony is going to need people like you—like both of you—to become a civilized place.”

Considering Warren's attitude toward the Alanzans, I found it
unlikely Hadisen was the kind of place we'd want to stay. Not that it mattered. There was no way we could accept this offer.