The Glittering Court (33 page)

“Because, as previously established, you're a smart and intelligent woman. And Viola Doyle is a vindictive one.”

I came to a halt in front of some shops where men busily hammered away, making conversation difficult. “If that picture gets shown in Cape Triumph, the other agent doesn't even have to come to Hadisen himself. All it'll take is some enterprising bounty hunter trekking out here to claim his prize.”

“You need to get married.”

“A conversation we keep having over and over.”

He started to respond, but then his eyes fell on something across the dusty road—or, more specifically, someone. “I know that man . . .” Cedric murmured. His brow furrowed and then smoothed out. “It can't be. I need to go talk to him.”

I nearly said I'd follow, but then I realized we were standing in front of the courier's office. “Meet me back here,” I said.

The office had sustained only a little damage and was still operating. The mail chief recognized me from our first day and produced two letters he'd been holding, one each for Cedric and me. Cedric's was from his associate, Walter, back in Cape Triumph. I tucked it into my pocket and tore into my envelope. It was from Mira.

Dear Adelaide,

I know it hasn't been that long, but life without you feels so strange. I've had you by my side for the last year, and there's an emptiness now that you're gone. Having Tamsin back helps a lot. She won't talk much about Grashond and seems troubled when it comes up. But aside from those moments, she's her same old self.

She kept good on her promise to not accept any offers until Warren's return, but of course, she still entertained plenty of gentlemen while he was gone. That's Tamsin—always keeping her options open. Since Warren came back, it seems as though her loyalty paid off. He was pretty smitten the last time I saw him, and excited to bring her back to show her around Hadisen.

And so, it seems as if both of you are going off to great adventures while I stay here. Only a few of us aren't engaged yet, and I know I'll have to choose soon. None of my suitors have really inspired a burning passion within me, so it may come down to simply accepting the one—the only one—who offers me the most respect and freedom. Surely that's as good as love. I rather liked that lawyer you knew briefly, but he's made it pretty clear he's not interested in the Glittering Court right now.

Write when you can,

Mira

I reread the letter before folding it up. I missed Mira as much as she missed me, and it saddened me that she might be forced into something simply because she had no better options. But I couldn't think too much about that—not with the perplexing information she presented about Tamsin. Warren had given no indication he'd settled on any girl, but Mira claimed he and Tamsin almost had a match, so much so that he wanted to bring her to Hadisen. What was the truth? The letter was dated only a few days ago and must have come with the mail on Warren's ship last night. I supposed anything could have happened. Had they quarreled in so short a time? Had Tamsin decided
she didn't want to live on the frontier after all?

Cedric reappeared as I pondered all this. That excited, knowing look was on his face, which meant he had some brilliant plan in place. “Come on,” he said, steering me back to where Lizzie was tied up. “Let's go back to the claim.”

I'd expected him to take me back to the Marshalls' since part of the day was gone, but I had no objections to this change. I was curious about how his place had fared in the storm.

“What's going on?” I asked, once we were on the trail heading away from the town. “Who was that man?”

“The man the Galvestons mentioned. The Alanzan magistrate.”

“Did you talk to him about marrying your heathen fiancée?”

“Yes, actually.” Again, I could tell Cedric was bursting with eagerness. “And he's the one who's going to perform our wedding.”

“When the contract's taken care of?” I asked. “You're planning ahead.”

“Not then. Now. Tonight.” Cedric hesitated. “I mean, if you want to get married.”

I craned my head back and tried to determine if he was serious. “How is that possible? We aren't allowed to.”

“Only in Warren's contract are we not allowed to. Legally, if a magistrate will do it, we can. Robert—that's his name—will do it
and
keep it secret.”

“Okay . . .” His enthusiasm was contagious, but I still didn't understand the entire plan. “If it's secret, what's the point? I mean, aside from the obvious joy of us being bound forever.”

“The point is that if Silas Garrett's friend shows up and outs you, then Robert produces the documents that prove our marriage,” Cedric explained. “It'll create a lot of hassle with Warren and his contract if we haven't settled those financial matters yet, but your grandmother won't have a claim on you anymore as a married woman.”

“And that ‘hassle' with Warren is the reason we have to keep it secret in the meantime,” I realized. “It . . . it's a backup plan.”

“Exactly. Assuming you're okay with an impromptu marriage. Once this all works out, we can have another ceremony with our friends. If we find enough gold, Father might forgive us and let you wear one of your Glittering Court dresses.”

“I don't even know if I remember how to lace one of those up,” I said, laughing. “I don't need it. I just need you.”

He leaned forward and kissed my neck, his arms tightening around my waist. “Careful,” I said. “We're not married yet.”

Back at the claim, things were about what I'd expected. The river had flooded, overturning the sluices. They were still intact, at least, and easy to set back up. The shanty had been completely flattened. Most of Cedric's belongings had been soaked, except for what was in his trunk. The rickety old stove had also survived. It seemed to be impervious.

Everything else was put on hold as we worked to get the shanty put back together. I wasn't very good at that sort of thing, but, as it turned out, neither was Cedric. Now I understood why it had taken him three days to get the shack in the shape it had been. By evening, we'd done as many repairs as we could with what we had. He'd have to replace the bed and a few other items, but at least he sort of had a roof again.

I looked up at the darkened sky. “It's past when we usually go back. I hope the Marshalls don't come looking for me.”

“We'll tell them we got caught up in the repairs. And we have bigger things now. Look.” Cedric pointed toward the trail that led to his property, and I saw Robert the magistrate riding toward us. He waved a hand in greeting.

A tremor of nervousness ran through me. “I can't believe this is really going to happen.”

Cedric slipped an arm around me. “You can still change your mind. And you might want to—I'd hoped to do an Alanzan rite, if that's okay. He could do a civil service if you wanted.”

I had only the briefest flash of that old fear, of dark rituals around a fire. Then those thoughts were banished. “The means don't matter. As long as I get to pledge myself to you, I'll be happy.”

It was a little surreal when Robert dismounted and donned a robe of black and white, so very different from the glittering vestments worn by the priests of Uros. Equally strange was the thought of an outdoor wedding. It seemed so casual compared to the formal processions and long services performed in the great cathedrals of Uros.

For the briefest of moments, I was taken away from this nighttime wilderness and remembered what it was like to sit between my parents in the pews of the King's Crest Cathedral, the wood hard and golden from years of use. Enormous candelabras. Rainbows of stained glass covering the walls. We'd gone to dozens of noble weddings in my childhood, and I'd see my mother scrutinizing every detail of each bride's attire, from her slippers to the enormous train trailing several feet behind her. And I could always tell my mother was mentally planning my wedding, deciding what would look best on me. Velvet or silk for the gown? Beadwork or embroidery on the train?

That long-ago idea rose up in me that at any moment my parents were going to walk through the door. I found myself looking toward the trailhead, like they might suddenly appear there. But my parents weren't here. Neither was Grandmama. I wasn't even wearing a dress.

“Adelaide?”

Cedric drew my attention back to him. One eyebrow was raised in question. No doubt he was thinking I'd changed my mind. Looking at him, at that beloved face, eased the weight of the ghosts that had settled on me. They weren't gone. They never would be. But they were part of the past, and I couldn't change that. It was the future I looked to now. The future I had chosen. The future I saw in Cedric's eyes.

We held hands as Robert recited the words of the Alanzan ceremony. It was sweet and beautiful, speaking of how the joining of two people was part of the natural order of things. It made our union
seem greater than us . . . like we now shared a part of some powerful, heavenly secret. Above us, a full moon shone down, and I remembered Mira saying that was a fortuitous omen for Alanzan weddings.

When Robert had finished reciting his words, it was time for us to recite ours. But first, he placed a circlet of bishop's lace around our clasped hands. We tightened our hold as the frilly white flowers encircled our wrists. Then, I learned the full wording of the vows Cedric had once mentioned:

I will take your hand and lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon
.
I will build a life with you upon this green earth. I will walk by your side for so long as the sun continues to rise.

The ending kiss was the same as the ceremonies of Uros, and we savored it, clinging to each other as though afraid this would all slip away when we released each other. Also the same was the signing of various legal papers. It seemed odd to be doing something so bureaucratic in this wild setting, but it meant we were bound both in the eyes of the law and whatever gods were looking down upon us. With that realization, a new lightness suddenly filled me. I was free of anyone else's claim upon me. And Cedric and I were together—truly together—as we'd been meant to be since that first day we met.

He drew me to him once Robert had wished us well and gone his way, promising to keep the documents safe. “How do you feel?” Cedric asked.

“Happier than I ever imagined I'd be at my wedding,” I said. “Happier than I ever imagined I'd be in my life. Also dirtier . . . but that doesn't bother me as much as I expected.”

He brushed his lips over mine. “Well, it's a good thing I know where there's a luxury bathhouse. Although it's probably going to be freezing.”

I grabbed his hand and immediately began leading him toward the shaded pond. “Then I'll keep you warm,” I said.

He was right—the water was a lot colder than that day we'd bathed in the heat of the afternoon. And it was a lot harder to see by
moonlight. But neither of us looked away this time. And neither of us held back. We helped each other wash, but I don't know how good a job we really did. There was too much kissing. Too much holding. Too much everything.

I felt no chill in the water or when we left it and lay down on his coat in the grass. I felt nothing but heat, like we were both flames merging into something brighter and more powerful. And in what followed, I had that sense again that we were more than just us. We were part of the earth, part of the heavens. I understood why Alanziel and Deanziel had fallen from grace in order to be together. I would have defied Uros a thousand times over to be with Cedric.

Afterward, entwined with him on the grass, I didn't want to go. It didn't seem right to leave him on our wedding night. It didn't seem right to leave him ever.

“Just a little longer,” he said. A warm breeze danced over us, but I still shivered. He pulled me closer. “Just a little longer, and then things will be normal.”

I rested my head on his chest and laughed. “Things have never been normal between us. And I hope they never are.”

And so, with great reluctance on both our parts, we put our clothes back on. Poor Lizzie probably thought she'd had the night off but doggedly took us down the trail. I sank into Cedric as we rode, dizzy and warm with this new connection between us.

At the cabin, we found Mistress Marshall waiting up for us. She sat at the table with a cup of tea but couldn't fight a yawn as we entered. “There you are. Andrew wanted to come get you, but I told him you'd be along.”

“There was a lot of damage from the storm,” I said. It wasn't an outright lie. “I'm sorry I missed the lessons.”

She yawned again. “It's no concern. The children had plenty of cleanup work to do here. But your young man might as well stay over. No point in going back and turning right around in the morning. Just go upstairs and push the boys out of the way in the bed.”