The Glittering Court (26 page)

Cedric flashed her his winning smile, only to be met with a scowl. Turning back to me, he closed my hand over the silver bag. “I mean it. You're going to need a whole new wardrobe out there. I'll ask Aiana to help—she'll know what to get.”

“Where did this silver come from?”

“I have some savings of my own.”

I knew what those savings were for. “Cedric, you can't—”

“I can.” He rested a hand on my cheek. “If this all works out, it won't matter.”

There were no more protests to make. We'd signed on to this plan, and I wasn't going to argue with him anymore. We would stand by each other and make this work. Hopefully.

“Just tell me this,” I said. “If things go horribly awry, can we just go run off into the wilderness together?”

“Sure. But we'd have to leave all civilization behind. Sleep under the stars. Wear animal skins.”

“Hey, watch it,” warned Tamsin.

Cedric looked at her in surprise. “There was nothing improper about that at all.”

“I know what you were thinking.”

“Can I at least kiss her goodbye?”

“No,” said Tamsin.

“And here I thought things were difficult before you got back.” Cedric dared a kiss on my cheek. “We'll talk later. I've got to go
break the news to Nicholas Adelton—assuming he hasn't already heard it from some gossip.”

After Cedric was gone, Tamsin shook her head. “I don't know how you got by without me.”

Despite the complications with Cedric, I still couldn't get over the wonder of having her back. I gave her another fierce hug.

“Me either,” I said. “Me either.”

Chapter 21

Tamsin wasn't kidding about jumping right into the Glittering Court's busy world. Some of the new girls were clearly still in shock from all they'd endured. But for those, like Tamsin, who were ready to get back on track, Jasper had no problem helping them. A new wave of parties and one-on-one meetings were arranged for that week, and in no time, Tamsin's reputation had spread, making her one of the most sought-after. Mira and I helped prepare her as best we could for life in Cape Triumph, but she seemed to need little adjustment. The settlers from Grashond were still around, and while Tamsin was polite to them, I noticed she went out of her way to avoid them. They were a disapproving lot, and Gideon—the young minister who'd helped save them—seemed especially troubled by the Glittering Court's social whirlwind.

Meanwhile, I dropped out of the public eye and began preparations of an entirely different nature. As Warren had predicted, there were a number of families who were interested in having an interim teacher while Hadisen became established. I made an arrangement to help the children of multiple families with their studies. One of the families, the Marshalls, had a claim within riding distance of Cedric's and offered to give me room and board.

Mistress Marshall was a stout, pleasant-faced woman with six children. “We'll need the children to help around the homestead during the day,” she told me in one of our meetings. “But you can help them with their lessons at night.”

“That would be great,” I said. “I could help Cedric on the claim during the day—if you don't need me around the house, that is. I want to earn my keep.”

“If I need you, I'll let you know. But otherwise, I have no problem with you helping your young man, provided you give me your word nothing untoward will happen. And he'll need to escort you there and back each day. I can't have you traipsing through that wild land on your own.”

The arrangement suited me just fine, and I was excited that I'd get to help Cedric and hopefully wrap up this deal that much sooner. I saw little of him that week. He was busy, wrapped up in the logistics of supplies and claim arrangements.

“You realize I'm one of the ‘lucky' ones,” he told me one day. “There's actually some sort of shanty on the claim they've assigned me. Some prospector built it and then decided he didn't like being in the wilderness. I hear it's in disrepair, so I'll have to buy some things to fix it up. But most of the miners are living in tents and lean-tos.”

We were in the cellar, where I'd finished the painting. Our relationship might be in the open, but we attracted too many prying eyes to feel comfortable speaking in public. “To think we first met in that drawing room,” I mused. “And now this shanty is the height of luxury.”

“Nah. I hear the Marshall family has a cabin. You won't ever want to leave that palace to come see me.”

“I'll see you as much as I can,” I insisted. “Though Mistress Marshall told me that nothing ‘untoward' had better happen.”

He leaned back against an iron-hinged chest, hands in his pockets. “Well, she doesn't need to worry about me. I'll be on best behavior.”

I stepped toward him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Who said you're the one she has to worry about?”

I leaned in, not for a true kiss, but just for the barest brush of my lips against his. I lingered for a few tantalizing moments, holding back despite his obvious interest in more. His hands gripped my waist when I pulled away, his fingers curling into me.

“I should probably get going,” I said lightly. “I have things to do.”

“I could give you a few suggestions.”

“Important
frontier
things to do,” I amended. I trailed my fingers along the side of his neck. “Sorry if I led you on.”

“You are not. You've been leading me on since the day I met you, and I've been dutifully following. One day . . . one day I'll catch you. And then . . .”

His mouth found mine, and I wrapped myself against him. I wanted more than kisses, more than embraces. I wanted to banish all the space between us until it was impossible to know where I ended and he began. When we finally broke away, I could hardly stand, and wondered who was really leading whom.

“And then,” I echoed with a sigh. “And then . . .”

I
did
have other things to do, and as we parted ways, I reminded myself that Cedric and I would have more time on our hands on the journey to Hadisen than we'd had together so far.

As he'd suggested, Aiana was the one to take me into town to shop. I'd spent little time with the Balanquan woman and was still fascinated by her. I came down Wisteria Hollow's main staircase and was surprised to see Mira waiting with her by the door.

“What this?” I asked, not that I was unhappy to have Mira there. Although she wasn't the busiest of the Glittering Court's girls, she'd still been caught up in the routine of it all while I simply cooled my heels.

Mira looked far happier than she ever did about going out to a party. “Who knows when we'll see you again, once you leave? We wanted to come along and get a little more Adelaide time in.”

“We?”

“Tamsin should be down any minute. She was finishing a letter.”

“She's still writing them?” I asked. Tamsin had been in my thoughts constantly since the storm, but her obsessive letter writing had slipped my mind.

“She had a whole bundle of them that she brought back from Grashond. I guess she was still writing them there. And I heard her
making inquiries about courier services back to Osfrid.”

Tamsin came down the stairs just then, radiant in a gown of deep emerald taffeta that bared her shoulders. “You know we're going to buy wilderness supplies, right?” I asked. “There's no formal luncheon planned.”

Tamsin lifted her chin. “It doesn't matter where we're going. I won't look anything less than perfect—you never know who'll be watching. Besides, I have a dinner engagement afterward. Warren's mother has invited me over.”

“Well, I'm sure that'll be very interesting,” I said, in as neutral a tone as I could manage. Tamsin had immediately honed in on him, and thus far he'd seemed to return her interest.

Aiana said almost nothing as a carriage took us into the heart of Cape Triumph. She strode comfortably through the streets in her trousers and a long tunic, uncaring who gave her curious looks. It was hard to say if it was her attire or ethnicity that attracted attention. But in the diverse culture of Cape Triumph, I didn't think she stood out that much. Tamsin certainly stood out as well, but those who looked her over said nothing impolite. I think the sight of fierce Aiana at her side kept them at bay.

This was the first time I'd really been out in the crowds, rather than just viewing them from a carriage. It was hard not to stop and stare at everything. The shops and restaurants offered nearly as much as I might find in a busy district of Osfro. Like everything else in the New World, though, there was a tentative feel to it—none of that old, established solidity. Some of the businesses had made good attempts at respectability, with glass windows and well-fortified buildings. Others could have been thrown together that day, with hastily written signs and a fragility that suggested they might fall over at any moment. It was all fascinating and overwhelming at the same time, and despite her show of confidence, I could tell Tamsin was daunted too. Mira moved effortlessly, as though she walked the streets all the time. For all I knew, she did.

We passed fishermen and lumberjacks doggedly going to their jobs.
Adoria's aristocrats strode haughtily through, flanked by servants. One young man, with a long wig and flamboyant purple coat, stopped to bow and take his plumed hat off before us in a gallant gesture. Aiana rolled her eyes when we moved past him. “One of the ‘idle elite,' as we call them. The sons of wealthy settlers with nothing to do, so they dress like that and think they're pirates or some such nonsense. Except pirates do more work than they do. They need to spend a day with Tom Shortsleeves or one of the others.”

“Are all those pirate stories real?” I asked. “The heroic ones and the cruel ones?”

“Embellished, but real. All stories have a seed of truth.”

She took me to one of the more reputable-looking shops, with W
INSLOW &
E
LLIOTT
O
UTFITTERS
etched on the glass window. Stepping inside, I saw all sorts of gear and supplies that one might need in setting off on an adventure to unknown lands. Two young men spoke to another man behind the counter, and when I caught a glimpse of him, I was surprised to recognize his face.

I nudged Mira, who was studying a pair of leather boots. “Hey, remember Grant Elliott from the ship? He's working here.”

“Who?” she asked, not really paying attention to me.

Grant walked through the store to fetch a saddle for his customers, his eyes sliding over us in surprise. He nodded a greeting to Aiana.

“Qi dica hakta,”
she said.

“Manasta,”
he replied gruffly. Aiana meandered away from us to study a display of canteens, and I hurried after her.

“What was that you said?”

“My native tongue. Mister Elliott is half-Balanquan.”

“Is he?” I looked back at him, hoping my scrutiny wasn't obvious. Although he had black hair like Aiana, there was nothing about him that would've suggested he wasn't an ordinary Osfridian. “I wouldn't have guessed it.”

“I think he prefers it that way. It'd be much harder to run a business in Cape Triumph if people knew the truth about his background.”

“How did you end up in Cape Triumph?” I asked. “If it's not rude of me to ask.”

“Not at all. I ran away to escape an unhappy marriage. It had been arranged against my wishes. But my wife and I . . . weren't compatible.”

“Your wife?” I asked, wondering if she'd had some sort of translation issue.

“My wife,” she affirmed. “The Balanquans don't look down on same-sex relations the way your people do.”

I didn't answer right away. “Look down” was putting it mildly, since such things were considered a great sin by the priests of Uros. Possibly more so than being an Alanzan.

“Did you leave because . . . um, because you didn't want to be with a woman?”

She grinned. “I have no problem being with women—just not that one. She was unkind, to put it mildly. I came to your colonies, wanting to learn about your culture firsthand, and eventually fell in with the Thorns. Jasper offered me a job, and as you might imagine, I had a particular interest in looking after girls who were being sold off to men they hardly knew.”

“Is that . . . is that why you dress like you do—like a man? Because you . . . prefer women?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt like an idiot. Aiana's laughter only intensified that feeling.

“I dress like this because it's more comfortable than all those ridiculous skirts and petticoats the rest of you prance around in. And, as you'll soon see, you'll be dressing the same. You aren't going to work a gold claim in a ball gown.”

With that, she left me gaping and went to the counter to speak to a now-free Grant. I found Tamsin and Mira on the other side of the store, sifting through bolts of fabric.

Tamsin held up a piece of coarsely woven linen. “I wouldn't use this to scrub a floor.”

“I remember the dress you came in wearing,” said Mira. “It wasn't nearly in such good condition.”

“Even so, I'm not going to start wearing this stuff again for the sake of nostalgia.” Tamsin regarded me sorrowfully. “Damn, Adelaide. I hope you can at least get something in organdy.”

“Adelaide,” called Aiana. “We need to measure you.”

Tamsin came with me out of curiosity, but Mira stayed to further examine the loose fabrics. Grant looked much as he did on the ship—handsome, decently dressed, but messy around the edges. When we reached the counter, he looked us over. “So who's the lucky explorer?” he asked.

“Me,” I said.

“Off to Hadisen with Doyle, eh? Quite an adventure ahead of you.”

Tamsin fixed him with an imperious look. “That's
Governor
Doyle. Please address my fiancé by his proper title.”

We all looked at her in astonishment, and she turned sheepish.

“Well, I mean, he's not my fiancé. Not yet. I'm going to work on that.”

“And not really governor yet either,” Grant pointed out with a smile. “But who's keeping track?”

Aiana snapped at him in Balanquan, which he responded to good-naturedly. I thought back to how he'd always spoken so politely during shipboard encounters and then been so gruff during the storm. I supposed stress could bring out the worst in everyone, because he seemed perfectly fine now as he gauged my size, keeping a proper distance with his measuring tape.

There was no time to have custom clothing made from the raw materials he sold, but there was plenty of ready-made attire in the store. The sizes were close enough to get me by for now, and adjustments could always be made later. I didn't end up with an exact replica of Aiana's attire, but it was pretty close. Wide-legged pants of soft suede that almost looked like a skirt when I stood. Plain, serviceable blouses and a knee-length leather coat to go over them when the weather turned cold. Sturdy gloves and boots with no embellishment.

“Sorry I can't match the dresses you're used to, but these'll keep
you a lot more comfortable.” Grant studied me a few moments more. “And a hat. You'll want one for your skin—but I'm afraid it might not help much.” He produced a wide-brimmed leather one from behind the counter.

“Why not?” I asked.

“The weather's more extreme. Those summer days'll scorch you. What are you going to be doing out there? You might be okay if you're doing chores inside.”