The Glittering Court (41 page)

“She's telling the truth,” he said, locking his hard gaze on Governor Doyle and not Warren. The gruff Grant I remembered from the storm was back. “There are stacks of correspondence. Witnesses who'll testify.”

“Elliott?” Warren gaped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Grant's heavy gaze fell on Warren. “I think you know. About Courtemanche. About the ‘heretic couriers.'”

I saw the shift in Warren's eyes, the moment when he was truly pushed over the edge by whatever those enigmatic words meant. And I knew, before he raised the gun at Grant, what was going to happen. “Look out!” I cried, throwing myself into Grant. I didn't quite knock him over but pushed him out of the way enough to just barely evade the bullet that fired from Warren's gun. That put me directly in front of him for the gun's second bullet. And I could tell from his frantic expression that it didn't really matter who he shot at this point.

Suddenly, I heard a
thwack
sound, and something moved in my periphery. The next thing I knew, Warren was lying on the ground, clutching his leg and screaming in agony. Something that looked like
an arrow was sticking out of his knee. It was the same leg I'd stabbed him in. Grant knelt down to restrain Warren, but that seemed unnecessary given the wails of pain.

I, like many others, tried to figure out where the shot had come from. The Icori and the feeble militia looked equally baffled. At last, I found what I'd been searching for.

And I couldn't tell in that moment which was more incredible, that Tamsin was among the Icori warriors . . .

. . . or that Mira was standing on an overturned wagon, wielding a crossbow.

Chapter 31

My second wedding was bigger than my first one. And a lot cleaner.

I would certainly still argue that I didn't need ceremony or pomp to declare my love for Cedric. A bath and nice clothes didn't change how I felt. But there was no way I'd turn them down.

In Adoria, weddings occurred in magistrate's offices more often than they did in Osfrid, so choosing that over a church of Uros wasn't unusual. Of course, with Cedric revealed as an Alanzan, no one was really surprised. We held our after-wedding party at Wisteria Hollow, inviting everyone we knew and a lot of people we didn't. Jasper had grudgingly agreed to hosting. He still wasn't happy about his son's choices, but he'd given in and accepted the inevitable.

We spent our wedding night in the cottage of an Alanzan acquaintance of Cedric's, one who was out of town on business and had lent it to us. It held nothing of my old town house's grandeur—or even that of Blue Spring—but was charming and clean. And it was ours. All ours for the night. No fear of others discovering us. No fear of condemnation.

It felt like we hadn't really and truly seen each other in ages. Since almost no one knew we were already married, we'd spent the two weeks between the trial and official wedding living chaste and separate lives. When we'd made it back to the cottage after a long day of festivities, the jolt of finally being alone together had been so surreal that we'd hardly known what to do.

But we'd quickly figured that out.

I woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the bedroom's bay window. Cedric lay at my back, his arms encircling my waist. I ran my fingers over the crisp white sheets, inhaling a scent that was a mix of Cedric's vetiver, the detergent used on the sheets, and the violet perfume Mira and Tamsin had gifted me for my wedding.

“I can tell that you're thinking,” Cedric said, pressing his cheek to my back. “Thinking much harder than you should be.”

“I'm trying to memorize this. Every detail. The light, the smells, the feel.” I rolled over so that I could look at his face. The morning sun lit up his hair, which was unquestionably disheveled. “Even you. We get to wake up together for the rest of our lives now, but it's going to be a long time before it resembles anything like this room, this bed.”

He brushed my hair back and then trailed his hand along my neck. “Getting cold feet?”

“Hardly, seeing as I've married you twice now.”

“Maybe we can find a reason to stay here longer.”

“And miss going to Westhaven with the charter members? That wouldn't reflect well on a founder and so-called leader of the community. You'd also get arrested and possibly executed for heresy if you don't go. And all those food supplies we've got sitting downstairs would go to waste.”

“Was that list in any particular order? Like, least to most serious consequence?”

“I . . . don't know.” The hand that had been by my face had slipped under the covers and now ran over my bare leg—slowly, agonizingly. I was trying to keep my face and voice cool, but the rest of my body was betraying me as I curled closer to him. “You're kind of making it difficult to focus. And we have a lot to do.”

“Yes.” His voice was husky as he moved his mouth to my neck. “Yes, we do.”

“That's not what I . . .”

He was impossible for me to resist. Or maybe I was impossible for him to resist. We melted into each other, and I forgot all about Westhaven and the hardships ahead. For the next hour, my world was a tangle of skin and hair and bedding. Afterward, I had a halfhearted urge to get up and start the day. That was soon abandoned. I collapsed into him and fell back asleep.

The sound of knocking snapped me awake and effectively shattered any remaining languor. I jerked upright. “They're here for our supplies! What time is it?”

Cedric opened one eye and fixed it on the window. “It's not time. Too early.”

“Well, someone wants something,” I said as the knocking continued. I climbed out of bed and searched around until I found a long, thick housecoat. I pulled it on, noting that my wedding dress was lying on the floor in the room's far corner, inside out. It was one of my diamond dresses, a fantasy of white silk and silver. “How'd that get over there?”

Cedric had been watching me dress, both eyes now open, and slid his gaze over to the corner. “You needed help getting out of it.” Like that was any kind of answer.

“We'll get an earful from Jasper. I have to give that back.” I finished cinching up the robe and hurried to the bedroom door.

“I think you're supposed to call him ‘Dad' now,” Cedric yelled after me. I paused just long enough to throw a small pillow at him.

Downstairs, the knocking had grown louder and more irritated. So, perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised to find that it was, in fact, Jasper standing out on the porch. He checked his pocket watch impatiently. “There you are.”

“Sorry. We were still . . . asleep. Would you like to come in?”

“No time. I'm off to meet a man I might possibly be starting an exciting business venture with.”

“And he had to schedule it during our send-off, huh?” Cedric strolled to the doorway beside me, yawning. He'd thrown on last
night's wedding clothes, which were covered in wrinkles. “Or maybe
you
scheduled it during the send-off?”

Jasper didn't answer either way. “There's nothing you really need from me at this point—although I
do
need that dress back. I can get good money for that. And if this new venture works out, we might have the potential for even more. We're working out logistics for more-specific long-distance matchmaking via correspondence and classified ads.”

While Jasper rambled on about the details, I went back upstairs to get the dress. It took a few minutes to assemble it all, as the various components—overdress, underdress, chemise, veil—had inexplicably ended up in wildly different parts of the room. Maybe I'd had more wine last night than I recalled. Or maybe I'd just been too preoccupied to care. Several glittering beads fell off the overdress when I smoothed it out, and I winced, hoping Jasper wouldn't notice.

When I came back downstairs, I heard Jasper saying, “—expand this business more than we ever dreamed, and you could have had a share of it. Riches beyond belief. But no. You had to marry a blue-blooded con artist and go prance off into the wilderness with some cult. I hope this new insanity works out for you.”

“Father, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”

Jasper scowled. “I'm serious. You've made some dangerous choices.”

“But I made them myself,” Cedric said. “And that's what matters.”

I handed the dress over to Jasper. From the narrowing of his eyes, I think he immediately noticed the missing beads. “Is that wine on the hem?” he asked.

“Thank you for letting me borrow it,” I said sweetly. “Dad.”

Cedric and I stood on the porch when he left, watching until he was out of sight down the lane. When we were alone, he slipped his arm around me. “Ready for the next adventure?”

“Always.”

The morning flew by as we readied ourselves and saw our wilderness supplies and few worldly possessions carted off to the Westhaven
baggage train. Much like the Hadisen send-off, there was a big crowd assembling at the edge of town where the wagons and horses were lining up for departure. There'd be family and friends to say goodbye, as well as the idle and curious. When we were finally ready to go, Cedric and I cast a fond glance back at the cottage and went to join the masses.

It was as crowded as I'd expected—maybe more so. Edwin Harrison caught sight of us immediately and asked for Cedric to consult on something, leaving me alone to people-watch near the edge of the crowd.

“It must be exhausting being married.” Tamsin strolled up to me. “You look like you didn't sleep at all.”

I grinned and gave her a quick hug. “I slept. Some.”

“Well, I'm sure you'll make up for it with all the sleep you'll get trekking through the wilderness. And whatever shack you have in Westhaven will probably be very restful too.”

I thought back to the dilapidated shanty on the gold claim. It felt like a lifetime ago. “We don't even have one yet. We'll have to build it—or hire someone to, in light of Cedric's carpentry skills. Besides, you're one to talk—after living in an Icori roundhouse.”

She smiled at the joke but made no comment on it. In the weeks that had passed since Warren's downfall, we'd learned a lot more about her time among both the Grashond Heirs and the Icori. She'd taken a long time to open up, and I knew there were still things she wasn't telling us. I hoped they'd come out in time when she was ready. Aiana had cornered Jasper, telling them that there was no way Tamsin could be expected to marry anytime soon after such traumatic events. Aiana had won her case, and Tamsin's contract had been extended.

She turned away and stared vacantly at the sea of people. “There's something—well, that is—there's something I need to talk to you about. Something I have to ask you.”

Her sober expression was startling. Frightening even, seeing as I'd thought the worst of her troubles were over. I squeezed her hand. “Of course.”

“It might be too late . . . I should have brought it up sooner . . . but I didn't want to burden you with everything else. But I know you and Cedric made a lot of money from selling the Hadisen claim, and so I thought . . . that is . . .”

“Tamsin.” I'd never heard her ramble in all our time together. “You can tell me anything. Go ahead and ask whatever you need to.”

So, she did.

I fell silent for a long time afterward, trying to wrap my mind around what I'd just heard. The longer I didn't speak, the more troubled she became.

“You think I'm a terrible person, don't you?”

“What? Of course not.” I drew her to me again. I remembered when, long ago, she'd told me I had no idea how much she had on the line. And she'd been right. “I'm just surprised, that's all. And of course I'll help.”

Her brown eyes shone with tears. “It's a lot to ask. And I understand if Cedric doesn't want you to spend the money. It's his right to—”

“Cedric wouldn't mind. And it doesn't matter. I don't need to touch the Hadisen money.”

I scanned the crowd, half hoping Nicholas Adelton might have turned out. No such luck. Legally, I probably didn't need his help, but he certainly would've made things neater. After substantial evidence had condemned Warren to a ship back to Osfrid to answer for his multilayered conspiracy, a legal nightmare had ensued over the land he owned in Hadisen. In matters of treason, land like that usually reverted to the crown. But he'd had a number of leaseholders working the land, and in a generous gesture, the courts had ended up gifting those claims. Rather than deal with the excavation, Cedric had sold his for an impressive price—giving us the means to pay off my contract and build savings for Westhaven. Nicholas had been instrumental in helping us sort matters out, so I suppose he'd earned a break from us.

I spied one of the Westhaven laborers nearby, keeping track of inventory with a pen and sheaf of paper. I talked him into lending the
pen and giving me a piece of paper. He was one of those who was starstruck over the truth about my past, and when I thanked him, he simply stammered, “No problem, m-m'lady.”

I knelt down to make a desk out of my knees and began writing:
I, Elizabeth Thorn née Witmore . . .

I stopped, unsure what to write next. Using my legal first name wasn't the issue. It was what came next. Or did anything come next? I'd been gone more than a year. My cousin Peter would most certainly carry the exalted Rupert's title now.

I, Elizabeth Thorn née Witmore, former Countess of Rothford, authorize the release of my surety money to Lady Alice Witmore, to be spent in the terms outlined below . . .

Tamsin watched me write each word, and I was pretty sure she didn't breathe the entire time. When I signed and finished, she read it over again, and then looked at me hopefully. “That's all it'll take?”

“It should be. That money's been isolated from any family debt for years and is legally mine, now that I'm married. It's not a lot—if it was, I would have had fewer problems. But it's enough for what you need, and Grandmama will see that everything gets followed through.” I reached into my skirt pocket and produced a folded bundle of more paper. Along with a copy of my marriage certificate, it also contained a long-overdue letter. “I'll just add it to what I'm already sending her. Silas Garrett is supposed to deliver it and verify that he compared me to the portrait and saw me alive. I'm just not sure where he is.”

Tamsin pointed. “He's over there, speaking with that awful Grant Elliott. He seemed so polite at first, but he's actually got quite an attitude, you know.”

Sure enough, the two of them stood removed from the throng, having what looked like a friendly conversation. I still didn't know their exact connection, save that they'd both played a part in having Warren arrested. Silas was transporting Warren back to Osfrid for a treason trial while Grant remained behind in the colonies.

“He can't be that awful,” I told Tamsin as we walked toward them.
“They say he was responsible for the evidence tying Warren to the Lorandians.”

“Well, I'm just glad he finally seems to have shaved,” she said. “He has, hasn't he? The beard looks much neater than usual.”

Grizzled Silas gave me a nod of greeting when we reached them. “Mistress Thorn, I wondered when I'd see you. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” I handed the bundle of papers to him. “It should be easy to find my grandmother. I'm sure she'll still be in Osfro.”