The Jewel (23 page)

I take a drink of wine.

“Of course, the Electress isn't the only one who's suffered a loss.” The Duchess's words bring me back to the present. “Did you hear about the Lady of the Bell?”

“Yes,” the Lady of the Glass murmurs. “I heard they found her surrogate in the bath, drowned. She's completely out of the running for a match with the Royal Palace now. She'll have to wait another year before she can even buy a new surrogate.”

The Duchess shrugs. “It serves her right, not protecting her home as she should. One must be extra careful in times like these.” She takes a bite of lamb. “Anyway, that's why I never have my surrogate take baths. You can't drown in a shower, can you?”

“Oh, has surrogate hunting season started?” Garnet calls from across the table. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are bright when they meet mine. “Better watch your back, new girl. This year is bound to be vicious, what with the precious little Exetor's hand at stake.”

The blood drains from my face, and because I'm too aware of him, I see Ash's shoulders tense. The Duchess slams her palm down hard on the table, making everyone jump.

“You will leave this table at once,” she says in a voice so cold I feel the temperature in the room drop a few degrees.

Garnet drains the last of his wine. “With pleasure,” he says, standing up and giving the Duchess an overly elaborate bow. Then he turns on his heel and marches out the door.

There is a chilly silence. The Duchess remains standing. The muscles in her jaw clench and unclench, like she's trying to work out what to say.

“Everyone knows how patient I have been over the years,” she announces to no one in particular. “I have taken many measures to ensure the safety of my surrogate.
Nothing
will happen to her. I will not allow it.”

I feel like she's talking to me without actually talking to me. As if it would be embarrassing to try to comfort me in front of other people.

Dessert arrives and I try to enjoy the cheesecake with fresh raspberries, but I keep wondering how many other surrogates have been killed since the Auction. My thoughts flicker between Raven and Lily.

“Tell me, Mr. Lockwood,” the Duchess says. “How long have you been a companion?”

I stare at my fork and listen very hard.

“Three years, my lady,” Ash replies. “Since I was fifteen.”

“In which circle were you born?”

“The Smoke, my lady.”

My head whips up. The Smoke? I assumed he was from the Bank or the Jewel. But from one of the lower circles . . . we sort of have something in common. The thought sends a warm feeling through my chest before I remember I'm not supposed to care.

“Which Quarter does your family live in?” the Duke asks.

“The East, my lord.”

“Why, we own several factories in the East Quarter. What did you say your surname was?”

“Lockwood, my lord. But my father makes cabinets at Joinder's Woodworks.”

“That's a House of the Stone subsidiary, isn't it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Darling,” the Duchess says, “we must see if we can find this young man's father a more suitable employ at one of our own factories.”

“Your Ladyship is very kind,” Ash says, but there is a tightness around his eyes.

“I was saying to the Lady of the Glass earlier, it is remarkable that natural conception still has the capacity to produce such . . . excellent results. Your mother and father must be a very handsome couple.” The Duchess is staring at Ash with a rather hungry look in her eye as she takes a long sip of wine.

The Lady of the Glass quickly changes the subject. “Carnelian, darling, tell me, what lot number was the surrogate your mother used for you?”

The question seems to make Carnelian uncomfortable. “She didn't care about the rankings. She always said she just wanted me to be healthy.”

“Well,” the Lady of the Glass says, “I'm sure she got the best she could afford.”

“Beryl, all this surrogate talk should be left to the ladies, don't you agree?” the Duke says to the Lord of the Glass. “What do you say to a brandy in the smoking room?”

Just then, the door bursts open and James, the butler, bows his way in.

“Forgive me, Your Ladyship, but an urgent message has arrived from the House of the Glass.” He turns and bows to the Lady. “Your surrogate is in labor.”

“Oh!” the Lady of the Glass exclaims. “But she's not due for two more weeks.”

There is commotion all around as servants pull back chairs and rush to get coats and the Duke and Duchess offer congratulations.

“It will be fine,” the Duchess assures the Lady of the Glass. “Garnet was two and a half weeks early and he turned out . . . well, he was healthy, at any rate. You must take my car back, it's faster.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” the Lady of the Glass gushes, kissing the Duchess's cheek. Her husband and the Duke shake hands, then the couple hurries out the door.

“My dear,” the Duke says, “I believe I will retire.”

And without even looking at his wife, he strides out of the room.

The Duchess sinks into her chair. “That will be all for tonight,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Get out.”

I'm only too happy to oblige.

Ash, Carnelian, and I file into the hallway. A maid in a black dress and white apron is waiting for Carnelian, but Annabelle is nowhere in sight.

“Your lady-in-waiting will be back shortly,” the maid says, and I recognize her voice from the east wing—the girl named Mary. “She is attending to Garnet in the library.”

“Oh,” I say. “Thank you.”

“How was your dinner, miss?” she asks Carnelian.

“Horrible,” Carnelian grumbles. “Can Mr. Lockwood escort me back to my room?”

“That would not be appropriate,” Ash says, taking her hand and kissing it. “But I will see you tomorrow.”

Carnelian smiles and allows her maid to lead her away.

The hallway is empty except for the two of us.

Ash realizes this at the same time I do, and he takes a step back, like he doesn't want to be too close to me. I don't know what to say, but I want to say
something
. He starts to walk away, then turns back.

“It's always like that for you, isn't it,” he says. “It's always been like that for the surrogates. I've just never noticed before.”

I open my mouth, but before I get a chance to ask him what he means, Ash whirls around and disappears down the hall.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

Sixteen

“D
OES IT REALLY NEED TO BE QUITE SO TIGHT
?”

I was informed a few days after the family dinner that I was to attend the Exetor's Ball with the Duchess and her family. I didn't think going to a ball would entail not being able to breathe for an entire evening.

Annabelle rolls her eyes and finishes tying the strings of my corset. I trace the hard boning with my fingers—I've never worn one before, and I definitely won't miss the experience.

Annabelle turns me away from the mirror and helps me into about a thousand petticoats, then holds up a pile of glittering fabric. Carefully, so as not to muss my hair, she negotiates my way into the dress. She steps back to admire her work, and claps her hands together.

“Can I look now?” I grumble. Preparing me for the Exetor's Ball has taken several hours, and I'm ready to be done with it. Annabelle laughs silently and turns me to face the three-sided mirror.

“Oh!” I gasp. “Oh, Annabelle . . .”

The dress is lavender slashed with gold, the full skirt falling gracefully to the floor, the bodice tight over the corset, which, I grudgingly admit, accentuates my figure. Perhaps a little too much—it's like my body has been squeezed upward, so that I'm showing a bit more skin than I'm used to between the capped sleeves. My hair has been curled and pinned so that it tumbles over one shoulder, and I'm wearing more makeup than usual, especially around my eyes.

Annabelle's face appears over my shoulder, beaming.

“Oh, don't look so smug,” I say, but I can't help smiling, too. “The Duchess will be very impressed.”

Annabelle leads me to the main foyer, where the fountain twinkles happily in the evening light. Ash and Carnelian are already there, and I can't stop my heart from jumping at the sight of him.

“I didn't realize
you
were coming,” Carnelian says. Her pink dress is fancier than mine, with lace sleeves and a much fuller skirt.

“I didn't realize
you
were coming,” I shoot back.

Ash doesn't look at me, but his lips twitch.

The Duke and Duchess arrive, Cora trailing behind them.

“We're late,” the Duchess says, without any sort of greeting. “Where is Garnet?”

She looks sternly at each of us, as if we might be hiding him in our pockets or something. Then she lets out an exasperated sigh. “I don't even know why I bothered asking. Come.”

Her midnight-blue gown gleams under a velvet cloak, and one gloved hand is twined around the Duke's arm as she steers him out the door. Annabelle ties my own cloak around my shoulders as Ash does the same for Carnelian.

“Where is Garnet?” I whisper. Annabelle grins and shrugs.

Two motorcars are waiting in the driveway. The air is chilly, the sky a deep, inky blue, and I pull the cloak tighter around me. The Duke and Duchess move to the first car, and Cora directs me, Ash, and Carnelian to the second one.

The ride to the Royal Palace seems to take forever. Carnelian and I sit next to each other, Ash on the opposite seat facing us. I stare very hard out the window and try to tune Carnelian out as she asks about this palace or that, or giggles at things that Ash says. But he is always there, in the corner of my vision, a black-and-white outline that I can't erase or ignore.

The palaces are even more incredible at night than they were during the day—soft colored lights make them glow like jeweled candies. The Royal Concert Hall is luminous, all pale pink and gold. Ash mentions the Stradivarius Tanglewood concert to Carnelian, who makes me cringe by asking, “Who?”

When we reach the forest, and there is no light other than the motorcar's headlamps, I look up at the sky. Hundreds of thousands of stars are nestled in the darkness. I remember that night when I looked up at this sky and took comfort in the thought that Hazel and I would always be under it together. I wonder if she's looking at it now. I hope she is.

It occurs to me then that I'll be seeing Lucien again tonight. What an idiot I am, not to have thought of it sooner. All these stupid thoughts about Ash have completely taken over my brain. I shake my head a little, as if that will actually clear it. I need to be focused. I
will
find a way to talk to Lucien tonight. Alone.

We pass through the topiary, the hedge-creatures dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, and emerge out onto the square with the fountain in its center.

The Royal Palace glows like liquid fire, its domes and turrets and spires searing the darkness, casting a red-gold light across the square. The driver stops at the broad steps, where footmen wait to open our doors and offer their assistance. Ash, Carnelian, and I follow the Duke and Duchess up the stairs to the open front doors. Another servant takes our cloaks, and a footman leads us down a gold-carpeted hallway hung with enormous oil paintings. I hear the faint strains of music coming from somewhere close by.

I can't wait to see Raven, too. It's been nearly a month since the last time I saw her, at Dahlia's funeral. It feels like ages ago. She must be here with the Countess of the Stone.

We reach a set of ornate double doors, which the footman opens with a flourish. Another servant, an old man with a large staff, stands just inside. He bangs the staff on the floor three times and announces loudly, “The Duke and Duchess of the Lake.”