Agent of the Crown (20 page)

A pure, beautiful note rang out over the
clearing. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, rich and full
as if they were in a concert hall and not outdoors. It was so
beautiful Telaine didn’t at first realize that voices around her
were harmonizing with it, building to a chord that made her feel as
if she were inside a symphony. Then she wondered, nervously, if she
should join in. She was a terrible singer and would ruin the
effect, but suppose this was something expected, something part of
the marriage ceremony?

Just as she’d determined she should at least
try, the high note ended, and the rest of the chord tapered off,
not discordantly but deliberately beautiful. Silence pressed down,
broken only by a cough and the wail of a baby, cut short. Then the
crowd moved, rippling, dividing in half as if an earth mover were
plowing a furrow through the clearing, pushing people to both
sides. Telaine ended up separated from Aunt Weaver, standing by
herself in a knot of people she didn’t know well, and tried not to
feel abandoned.

A murmur went up at the far end of the crowd,
and soon Telaine saw Trey and Blythe, pacing hand in hand down the
aisle formed by the divided crowd, their eyes fixed on Mister
Bradford. Trey wore a gray vest and trousers and a shirt as white
as his mother’s efforts could make it. Blythe’s dress was a pale
green wool that was a perfect replica of Elizabeth d’Arden’s
fashion-setting gown.
Nice work, Josephine.
Blythe wore a
circlet of autumn leaves in her dark hair and was radiant. Trey
looked happy and a bit stunned.

They stood before Mister Bradford, still
clasping hands. “We’re here to celebrate the joining of these two
young people,” he announced, “and the joining of Trey Richardson to
the Bradford line. Does anyone dispute?” Silence. Mr. Bradford
extended his hand to grasp Trey’s right wrist, and Trey followed
suit. “Trey Richardson, do you of your own free will give up all
claim to the Richardson name, to take the name of Bradford to
yourself and your children?”

“I do,” said Trey.

Tears were running down Eleanor’s face.
Telaine felt a pang of sympathy for her. With the Bradfords having
only one child, it made sense for Trey to adopt into their family,
but it still couldn’t be easy for her to feel like she was losing
her son as he gave up the family bond he’d been born with.

“Join hands,” Mister Bradford said, and
Blythe took Trey’s right hand in her left. Telaine hadn’t realized
Trey was left-handed. “Blythe Bradford,” Mister Bradford said, and
stopped. When he spoke again, his voice sounded rough with tears.
“Blythe Bradford, do you take Trey Bradford as your husband, father
of your children and strong left hand for all your days?”

“Yes,” Blythe said. If she had been radiant
before, now she out-glowed every one of the lights above her
head.

“Trey Bradford, do you take Blythe Bradford
as your wife, mother of your children and strong right hand for all
your days?”

“Yes,” said Trey, sounding certain and
strong.

“Then exchange rings, and your heart’s
oaths.”

Blythe took Trey’s right hand and slid a ring
that glinted, starlike, onto his middle finger. “Trey, I swear to
be the strength to your weakness, now and for the rest of my
life.”

Trey took Blythe’s left hand and said, “I’m
yours, Blythe, strength to your weakness to the end of my days.” He
slid a ring down her middle finger, then held her hand. Gold and
silver shone.

“Do you gathered here witness these vows?”
called Mister Bradford.

“YES!” roared the crowd. Telaine, caught off
guard, remained silent.
It’s not as if I’m one of them,
she
thought, and was surprised at how painful the thought was.

“Then as patriarch of the Bradford line, I
declare this marriage sworn and sealed!”

The crowd cheered and shouted again, even
more loudly, and Blythe and Trey both closed their eyes as the
marriage bond took effect. Then Trey swept his wife off her feet
and kissed her; she put her arms around his neck and returned his
kiss.

Telaine met Aunt Weaver’s eyes across that
divide. Alone in the crowd aside from Telaine, she was silent.
There was some question in her eyes Telaine couldn’t read, let
alone answer. Then Aunt Weaver came toward her. “Now there’s
congratulations, and food, and song and dance,” she said, raising
her voice enough to be heard above the crowd. “You might say a word
to the bride and groom, if you can make it through.”

Telaine let herself be buffeted by the crowd
rather than force her way through, and eventually it carried her
past the bride and groom with barely enough time to congratulate
them. The crowd spat her out near the circle of fairy lights, which
was surrounded by folding chairs and trestle tables, some of them
nearly bowing under the weight of the food they bore.

She sat down in a chair, feeling lonely and
out of place. She couldn’t speak to Eleanor, who was caught up in
the whirl of congratulations, didn’t want to talk to Aunt Weaver,
and none of her other friends were visible. She got up and helped
herself to a tiny cake. With her luck, eating food now would break
some sort of shivaree taboo. She ate it anyway.

“What are you doing!” Maida Handly exclaimed.
“You can’t eat now!” Telaine, chagrined, her mouth full of cake,
tried to excuse herself, but Maida burst into laughter. “Just
having a bit of fun with you,” she said. “The look on your face…!”
Telaine glared at her and swallowed. “Looked like you were feeling
a bit lost. Never been to a shivaree before, eh?”

“Our weddings, we have receptions.” Telaine
wiped away crumbs. “This looks like more fun.”

Some men and women were gathering near a
review stand made of boards stacked on trestles three steps high,
and Telaine saw musicians tuning up to one side. She recognized
violins and cellos, familiar to her from years of string quartet
music, but there were other instruments she’d never seen before,
and she’d never seen an orchestra, however small, include pipes and
drums. Even some of the familiar instruments had strange shapes, as
if they’d come from a foreign land.

“Singing first,” said Maida. “Then dancing.
Then happen there’s a bit more singing.”

“Does everyone sing, like at the beginning of
the ceremony? That was incredible.”

“That was nothing. Just tuning. No, tonight
it’s only a few, but during the winter…you make sure you come to
the tavern, that’s all I’m saying. We can shake the timbers if we
try.” Maida hopped up and drew them both a beer. “You dance?”

“Probably not the same dances you do.”

“Not too hard. Happen you’ll like it.”

Telaine sipped her beer. It was darker than
she was used to and she found she liked it better than the pale
stuff. “Happen I will,” she said. She scooted her chair closer to
the table so Jack Taylor could make his way past it and sit next to
her.

“Want to take a turn at singing?” he said,
but the twinkle in his eye told her he wasn’t serious. “I play the
fiddle as well as the pianoforte.”

Telaine shuddered. “You wouldn’t want to hear
me sing.”

“Everyone sings, come winter,” Maida said.
“Even if they’re bad at it.”

“I don’t know if I’ll still be here come
winter,” Telaine said, and another stab of loneliness went through
her.

Maida and Jack looked at each other, then
back at Telaine. “We forgot,” Maida said, and then there was an
awkward silence, because Telaine couldn’t think of anything to say
to that. They’d expected her to still be here, but why? She was an
outsider, however many friends she’d made; she belonged to the
palace and that glittering world, to the life of an agent of the
Crown. She’d finish her assignment, and return to that life, and
they’d eventually forget her.

She looked away toward the review stand so
she wouldn’t have to see whatever it was Jack and Maida were
thinking. Garrett had taken a place there, with Ed Decker and four
other men she didn’t know. Maida cleared her throat. “You’ll never
have heard the like of this before,” she said.

The six men were talking among themselves.
Garrett looked up and scanned the crowd. His eye caught hers for a
moment, then passed on before she could acknowledge him. He said
something to the other men, who nodded, then the six stood up
straight.

Garrett’s eyes met hers again. He looked as
if he were asking her a question, though she had no idea what, or
how he expected her to respond. It was as if all her friends had
conspired to confuse her tonight. Telaine smiled at him, but
without real feeling; she was already working out a plan for
sneaking away. Too bad breaking into the fort was even more insane
than breaking into the manor.

Garrett opened his mouth, and that same pure
tone that had silenced the crowd rang out, joined by other notes as
the five other men harmonized with him, the lowest note being more
of a rumble than a sound. Then they broke into song. The six-part
harmony captivated her, so intricate and compelling that she didn’t
at first register the words they were singing:

Come, my girl, and walk with me,

On some old hidden way,

We’ll laugh, and fight, and merry be,

And talk, just talk, all day.

Garrett’s eyes never left hers.
It’s for
me,
she thought wildly,
he’s singing it for me, why is he
singing to me?
She glanced around the clearing, looked back at
Garrett, closed her mouth, which had fallen open in shock, and
wrapped her fingers around the handle of her tankard, gripping it
hard. The smooth wood was warm, an anchor preventing her from
falling out of her seat in pure astonishment.

Come, my girl, and dance with me,

Out in the pale moonlight,

We’ll sway, and swing, and merry be,

And dance, just dance, all night.

She felt as if every light above her head was
pointed at her. Surely somebody else had noticed? But no, they were
all watching the singers. Garrett was the only one looking at her,
and his eyes…she blushed at the intimacy of his gaze. She ought to
look away. She couldn’t bear to look away.

Come, my girl, and love with me,

I pledge you all my days,

We’ll talk, and dance, and married be,

And love, just love, always.

The men ended on another intricate chord, and
the audience cheered and clapped. Dazedly, Telaine clapped with
them, barely knowing what she was doing.

Garrett held her gaze for a few seconds after
the music ended, and once again she couldn’t understand the
question in his eyes. Then he looked away, toward the other
singers, and said something that made them laugh.
He
wouldn’t…they’re not laughing at
me
, are they? Would he do
that?
But they didn’t seem to notice her at all. Some of the
men stepped down, a few women stepped up. Garrett remained on the
stand. She’d never heard a voice as extraordinary as his
before.

And he’d been singing to
her
.

Telaine looked
away from the singers and prayed her face didn’t reveal her
confusion to Maida and Jack. “Told you it was amazing,” Maida said.
Telaine nodded. Who knew what might come out of her mouth if she
spoke?

“I think I need another beer,” Jack said. He
didn’t notice Telaine’s agitation.

“Me too. How about you, Lainie?” Maida said.
Telaine shook her head. She buried her face in her tankard after
they left, wishing she had a place where she could think. The noise
around her was overwhelming.

The singers began again, this time with
female voices soaring above Garrett’s tenor. She didn’t dare look
at him for fear she’d catch him watching her again, singing to her
again. This new song was an innocuous one about the seasons of the
year, but suppose it had a double meaning? She drank again, deeply.
Maybe the beer would wash away her confusion. Or, possibly, make
her drunk enough that this evening would start to make sense.

So.
Think straight, Lainie
. He’d been
singing to her, no question, addressing the words of the song to
her as surely as if he’d stood in front of her and spoken them.
Maybe he just meant to be friendly; maybe he’d seen how lost she
felt and wanted to make her feel part of the celebration.

Telaine rubbed her eyes.
Or, you idiot, he
could have meant it exactly the way it sounds, as a courting
song.
But…Garrett? Her quiet, half-smiling friend who had never
given her any indication he was interested in her other than as a
stranger who needed help?

Unless…unless he had. If you replaced
quiet
with
shy
and stepped back a few paces, he’d
done practically nothing but try to court her from the day they’d
met. Stepping in to rescue her from Irv Tanner’s gang. Coming to
see how she was settling in. Those flashing smiles. His unrelenting
concern about her safety with Morgan. He’d even asked her to share
a meal with him, for heaven’s sake. He’d done everything except
come right out and tell her how he felt. So how could he suddenly
gain the courage to be direct—indirectly direct, if that made
sense—tonight?
Because he knows where he is when he’s
singing
, she thought.
And that’s an incredibly romantic way
to court a girl
.

Maida returned with a plate of food. “You
should get some of this chicken,” she said, tearing into a leg.
“It’s going fast.”

Telaine obediently got up and went to the
food tables, which were, fortunately for her peace of mind, far
away from the singers. She hovered over the chicken legs, but
decided on a slab of ham instead. Her mind taunted her,
You
don’t want him to see you all greasy with chicken
. She wanted
to smack that inner voice down. She filled her plate automatically,
even though her appetite was gone, then returned to sit with
Maida.