The Glittering Court (21 page)

Another star streaked above us. “You worship Uros?”

“Of course. He's the sky father. We acknowledge that—just as the orthodox do. And we pray during Star Advent that Uros and
all
the angels, glorious and wayward, will be reconciled. It's a time for us too to put away grudges and find peace.”

I watched the stars. “I'd like to find peace with you. I'm sorry for what I said after the gala.”

He sighed. “No, I'm sorry. You were right—Warren Doyle is a good match. His . . . approach rubbed me the wrong way, but that doesn't mean there's anything amiss.”

“Eh . . . well, that might not exactly be true.”

I told Cedric about the revelations at the party. Aghast, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at me. His body seemed to be only a heartbeat away from mine.

“What? Why are you only just mentioning this?”

“Well,” I said drily, “I was kind of busy saving you and your heretic friends.”

“Adelaide, this is . . . I don't know. This is bad.”

“Yes . . . or is it?” I asked. “I mean, I didn't like her manner, but I was already considering Warren. I don't know.”

“Before, it was your choice. Now, it's becoming blackmail.”

“If I married him, she'd have no motivation to sell me out.”

“But she'd always hold that over you. Someone who's threatening to do it now will never let that go. And if she does tell now . . .”

“Then some enterprising scoundrel in hope of a bounty carries me back to Osfrid. Unless I get the security of marriage—with Warren or someone else.”

“I'll marry you myself before I let you do that.” There was a hardness to his voice, no joking.

I still managed a laugh, but there was a catch in it. Maybe it was because of the earlier excitement. Maybe it was because we were lying out alone under the stars. Maybe it was simply the boldness of what he'd said—and what it would mean.

“Last I checked, you aren't in a position to ‘let' me do anything.” He was so close to me, his body leaning into mine. I could see the lines of his face, the shape of his lips. And of course, I could smell that damned vetiver. “Besides, what use could an art-forging, renegade noble possibly be to some tree-worshipping—”

I can't say the kiss was entirely unexpected. And I can't say I hadn't wanted it.

There was a hesitancy to it at first, as though he worried I might protest. He should've known better. I parted my lips and heard a small sound of surprise catch in his throat. And then all nervousness between us vanished. I'd say I yielded to him, except I was every bit as aggressive as he was. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer, crushing his lips to mine. It was the great release of months and months of pent-up . . . attraction? Lust? A deeper feeling? Whatever it was, I let it sweep me away.

I'd shared a few polite kisses in ballroom corners that seemed to belong to some other world. There was nothing polite here. It was hungry and consuming, almost an attempt by each of us to possess the other. I felt my whole body respond when he shifted his over mine. One of his hands cupped my face, and the other rested on my hip.
After years of virtue lectures, I'd always wondered how silly girls could give theirs up. Now, I understood.

When he brought his mouth down to my neck, trailing kisses to my collarbone, I thought I would melt. We clung to each other in the night, struggling to get closer and closer. Though all our clothes remained on, at one point I ended up on top of him, uncaring that it hiked my skirt up to my knee. He tangled his fingers in my hair as we kissed, freeing it from the carefully placed pins.

Then, at last, I paused for breath, managing to sit up—albeit in a very brazen way that still straddled his hips. He ran his fingers along the side of my face, tracing my cheekbone before sliding back to the unruly waves of my hair.

“Disheveled,” I said, smoothing his own hair back. “Just like you always wanted.”

“I . . . have wanted a lot more than that,” he admitted, voice husky. But he dropped his hand with a sigh. “But your future husband won't thank me for this.”

“‘Future' being the important word. I don't have a husband yet. And until I do, I can make my own choice.” I considered that for a few moments. “Actually, I intend to make my own choices even after I have a husband.”

“I'm sure you do, but I'm also pretty sure my father would have some very, uh, strong opinions about this. We're your caretakers—your guardians. We're supposed to protect you and support you until you can move on to some extravagant marriage offer.”

Words I'd heard so many times. “And get you an equally extravagant commission.”

He sat up, gently shifting me off him. “I don't care about that.”

I thought about our original plan. I thought about the riders in the night and the gunshots. Cedric needed to get out of here.

“I care about it,” I said softly. “Have you had any luck with the painting?”

“Not exactly. No one really doubts its authenticity. But Walter—
my agent—is having trouble finding anyone with enough money.”

I stood up and brushed off my skirt, more out of habit than anything else. “Then I guess it's up to me to secure your stake.”

“Don't do anything you don't want,” he warned, joining me and shaking out the cloak.

My heart still beat rapidly.
I want you,
I thought.
I want you to kiss me again and lay me back down in that field.

But although my body was heated, my mind was cool. Maybe I was free to do what I wanted right now, but he was right that there would be terrible, terrible consequences if there was any whisper of what had just happened between us. We slowly continued our walk back to the house, both of us lost in thought. I hardened myself. Marriage wasn't about love and wanting. It was about business, and I needed to get back to that business. One slip could be forgiven, but not a second one—no matter what my heart wanted to tell me. And right now, it had a lot to say.

Cedric was apparently thinking along the same lines when Wisteria Hollow came into sight. We stopped on the far edge of the property, and he looked back down at me. “What do you want to do about Warren?”

“I don't know. I mean, I don't want to marry into that situation, but—”

“Then don't,” he said firmly. “That's all I had to hear.”

I eyed him warily. “What are you going to do?”

“Protect you from him. Keep him out of your schedule and put other suitors in. Maybe there'll be someone else you like.”

I supposed he was right, but as we stood there, I doubted it. Because suddenly, I was pretty sure why every gentleman I'd met in the last week had seemed so lackluster. I was comparing everyone to Cedric—and there was no comparison.

“Your father isn't going to like your excluding Warren,” I warned. “He'll fight you on it.”

“Probably. But remember, it's always your choice. You can choose
someone else—someone not holding a secret over you—even if he doesn't have as much money to give.”

When we reached the house, Cedric told me he'd be going around to the front door and that no one would think anything of him coming in late after allegedly being out on the town with friends.

“Really?” I asked, unable to hide my bitterness. “How nice, to have no limitations on your movements. Meanwhile, every move we girls make is scrutinized.”

“Hey, our job is to protect your virtue . . .”

Faint light from the house illuminated his features, and I saw his smile fade as he reflected that he had not, perhaps, done such a good job at that tonight.

“Well,” I said. “At least your intentions were good.”

“That depends on which intentions you're talking about.” He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and looked up at the sky, his gaze resting on the moon. “Do you know why the six wayward angels fell?”

“I know what the priests say. It's probably not what you'll say.”

“Alanziel and Deanziel were the first two to rebel. They fell in love, but that wasn't allowed, not for angels. They were supposed to be above human passions, but their love was so great, they were willing to defy the laws of gods and men. Uros banished them, and the other four wayward angels soon followed. They refused to close themselves off to emotion. They wanted to embrace the feelings within them and guide mortals to do the same.”

I held my breath as he spoke, not sure what I was waiting for.

Cedric pointed at the moon. “Uros didn't just ban Alanziel and Deanziel from the divine realms for succumbing to their passions. They were banned from each other too. She is the sun, and he is the moon. And they're never together. Sometimes, at the right time of day, they can catch a glimpse of each other across the sky. Nothing more.”

I exhaled. “What about during an eclipse?”

He took so long to answer that I thought he hadn't heard me. Then: “Those don't really happen every day.”

“Seems like it'd only need to happen once.”

He turned from the moon, and although his face was shadowed, I was pretty sure I could see him smiling. The tension between us faded—for now, at least. “Are we still talking about Alanziel and Deanziel?” he asked.

“How should I know? You're the heretic, not me.”

“Right. You're just the daring escape artist who saves heretics like me. Now, tell me how you plan on getting back into the house.” When I showed him the trellis I'd be climbing up, he was astonished. “That?”

I straightened up proudly. “Sure, why not? I told you a long time ago I can do stuff like this. And Mira does it all the time.”

He winced. “I don't even want to know. And I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You're fearless. She's fearless. There's no going against either of you.”

With a jolt, I remembered the old rumors. He'd acted very self-assured back there under the stars, with hands and lips that knew exactly what they were doing. It seemed naïve to think that, between his goings-on at the university and with the Alanzans, he wouldn't have some experience with women. But the idea that I might have been preceded by my best friend was particularly troubling.

I nearly asked him then and there. Instead, we bid each other an awkward good night, pointedly keeping distance between us. He watched me scale the trellis until I was safely in the attic before going on his own way. I reclaimed the robe and made it back to my room without detection.

Mira sat up in bed when I entered. Apparently I wasn't the only one who had trouble sleeping when friends were out doing foolish things.

“Did you get what you needed?” was all she asked.

It was a difficult question to answer, one that could have a lot of different meanings tonight.

“I don't know that I ever will,” I replied.

Chapter 17

Cedric held to his word about keeping me away from Warren. He didn't appear on the schedule for the next few days. I encountered him once on an outing into town with the other girls, but it was too brief and too public for him to go off on one of his impassioned pleas. He made no secret of how excited he was to see me, and I responded as politely as I could, even as he bragged about how they'd arrested three Alanzans the night of the Star Advent—something that caused me pain because I knew it caused Cedric pain. On the bright side, there was no sign of his mother or any indication she was acting upon her threat.

I should have been pleased with this development. I should have used this time to think about my next move and how best to navigate these uncertain waters Viola Doyle had cast me into.

But mostly, I just thought about Cedric.

If I was being honest with myself, Cedric had been on my mind since the moment we met. I'd just worked to keep my feelings pushed off to the side of my mind. But now that I'd unlocked my heart and admitted to those feelings . . . well, now there was no keeping him out of my head. I found myself constantly replaying every moment from that night under the stars. The exact moment our lips had met. The way his fingers had loosened my hair. The boldness of his hand moving up to the side of my thigh—but never any farther.

Sometimes, at the right time of day, they can catch a glimpse of each other across the sky. Nothing more.

I couldn't sleep. I could hardly eat. I moved around in a glorious haze, high on the thrill of what had happened between us, even though that high was dampened by the knowledge it wouldn't—that it couldn't—happen again.

At least he never told me it was a mistake. I always remembered that cautionary tale Tamsin had told us, about the girl she knew in Osfro who'd given up a lot more than kisses to a man who'd promised her everything, only to later tell her it had been a “misunderstanding.”

But Cedric never spoke of regrets or any other humiliating excuses. In some ways, that made it worse. It meant that he didn't think it was a mistake. And I didn't either. Neither of us could deny, however, that it complicated things.

So, really, we found it best to speak as little as possible to each other—not because of any animosity but because we simply didn't trust ourselves. One day, however, communication was unavoidable. Several of us were about to go to a party, and he pulled me aside while the others were distracted. We stood several inches apart, and I counted every single one of them.

“I've found someone for you,” he told me, casting a quick look back at the doorway. “A good man—I could tell when I spoke to him. And then I verified it with some sources who know his servants. You can always tell a lot about someone by their servants.” Cedric hesitated. “And he's very . . . candid. Amusing. I thought . . . well, I thought you'd like that too.”

Awkwardness joined the electric attraction between us. It was more than a little weird to have the man I so desperately wanted finding a suitable husband for me.

“Thank you for that,” I said, not sure what else to say.

“He's out of town right now, but I've arranged for you to meet at the end of the week. There's just one problem . . .”

I couldn't help but smile. “Cedric, there are a
lot
of problems.”

“Don't I know it. But he's . . . well, he's a lawyer. Still getting established. His house in town is small. Nice—but small. And he has only two servants.”

“I see.” A lawyer, while a respectable position here in the colonies, would not provide the luxury that, say, a plantation owner or shipping magnate would. Certainly not what a governor might offer. Two servants meant I'd most likely be helping with some of the household tasks.

“You'd always be provided for,” said Cedric quickly. “You'd be comfortable—still part of some social events. Not the top-tier ones . . . but some. And I've heard he's good. He'll most likely advance, maybe even move into a government position over time. It would be an outstanding match for many of the girls here.”

“But not necessarily the diamond.”

“No,” he agreed. “And he was uncertain you'd even want him—or that he could afford you. He could just afford your minimum bride price if he borrows, but there's no promise of surety money. I convinced him you'd be worth it.”

I felt an ache in my chest. “Of course you did. You can sell salvation to a priest.”

He winced. “Adelaide, I know it's not what you'd want—”

“No,” I interrupted. “It's perfect. I'd rather live humbly with a man I can respect—maybe even like—than be pampered by someone who holds a sword over my head.”

“You will like him—” The words caught in Cedric's throat.

I nearly reached for him but drew back before something happened I might not be able to control. I clenched my hand into a fist at my side. From the other room, I heard someone calling my name. Cedric and I stood together for a heartbeat, saying a million silent things, and then turned to join the others.

Mistress Culpepper clucked in disapproval when she saw me. “Adelaide, where is your jewelry? You've been forgetful all week—highly inappropriate for a girl of your rank.”

“Sorry, Mistress Culpepper.” My memory was so filled with details of a forbidden night, I supposed it had little room for much more.

Mistress Culpepper snatched the diamond necklace from a servant's
hand and held it out to Cedric. “Mister Thorn, can you put this on her? I swear if we make it there in time, it will be nothing short of a miracle! Now stand still. Honestly, between the missing wigs and now this, how many more things can go wrong tonight?” That last part was spoken to Rosamunde, who'd snapped a corset string. Mistress Culpepper was frantically trying to replace it.

Cedric stood frozen for a few moments, holding the necklace in his hand. It was made of teardrop-shaped diamonds, which I found appropriate. Not wanting to draw attention, he finally stepped behind me and placed the circlet around my neck. I held my breath, amazed that the whole room couldn't see the effect he had on me. His body was right up against mine, and his hands trembled as he tried to fasten the necklace's clasp. When he finally managed it, he smoothed the chain and brushed a few wayward tendrils of hair out of the way. His fingertips were as light as a feather, but I felt goose bumps break out along my skin. I didn't exhale until he backed away.

At the end of the week, I finally had an opportunity to meet this lawyer at a party hosted by the Thorns. Several girls had offers now, and although Jasper wasn't particularly concerned about the others, he'd decided to gather some of his favorite potential suitors all in one place as a way to further interest. A number of the most prominent Cape Triumph citizens had been invited, in the hopes we'd impress them and increase the buzz.

The guests began arriving at Wisteria Hollow well before dinner, and we were ready to charm them. Well, at least the others were. Although I'd been nothing but proper and pleasant at recent functions, developments with Cedric had made me even more uninterested in others than usual. I offered up no more than was expected of me and had once overheard a gentleman say, “That diamond girl is a lot duller than I expected.”

In another act of absentmindedness, I'd forgotten to put on rouge
tonight. It seemed a minor thing, particularly since I wore so little anyway, but an already-stressed Mistress Culpepper acted as though the ruin of modern civilization was upon us. She ordered me back to my room, telling me to take the servants' stairs in the back, lest anyone see my terrible breach of fashion.

As I moved through the kitchen, I overheard two men arguing in one of the food storage rooms. The kitchen staff was busy and barely noticed me as I lingered outside the door to eavesdrop.

“What do you mean he's coming? He wasn't put on the guest list!” Cedric exclaimed.

“You mean
you
didn't put him on the guest list,” Jasper snapped. “I don't know what you're playing at, but don't think I haven't noticed you cutting him out of her calendar! If you're going to ruin this deal for us, then I need to take charge and fix things.”

“He's not a good match for her,” Cedric said. “And she doesn't like him.”

“How could she, when she's barely gotten a chance to talk to him? Now get out there and be a charming host, and don't screw this up any further!”

Jasper came storming out, and I shrank off to the side before he could see me. I stepped forward when Cedric appeared.

“I assume you were talking about Warren?”

“Yes,” he growled, anger sparking in his eyes. “I'm sorry. I didn't have anything to do with it—but don't let it bother you. You don't have to talk to him tonight, and if he tries to monopolize you, I'll distract him.”

“Well, as friendly as things have been between you, I'm sure that won't be hard,” I said.

“I'll take care of it,” he insisted. “You just worry about getting to know Mister Adelton.”

He waited for me to get my rouge and then walked with me to the drawing room. We came to an uncomfortable halt at the doorway. Etiquette dictated a gentleman in his position—one who was
my guardian, of sorts—escort me into the room. He offered his arm, and I slipped my hand through it. As soon as I did, I felt that jolt of electricity go through me. Cedric took a deep breath, equally affected.

“We can do this,” he said. “We're both strong. We can do it.”

To my dismay, I saw Warren hadn't come alone—his mother was with him. When he spied me from across the room, he lit up and began working his way toward me through the crowd. Cedric immediately made an abrupt turn and hurried me over to a corner where a thin man with sandy-colored hair stood sipping brandy. He was nice enough looking, though not as dashingly handsome as Cedric—but then, who could be?

“Mister Nicholas Adelton,” announced Cedric. “May I present Miss Adelaide Bailey.”

Nicholas took my hand with a smile. “Miss Bailey, the reports I heard of you don't do you justice—which is astonishing, considering how effusive Mister Thorn was in his description.”

I smiled back. “He's a salesman, Mister Adelton. It's his job.”

“Most of the salesmen I've met sell nothing but snake oil. Something tells me that—”

He was interrupted when Warren finally made his way to us. “Adelaide! I feel like it's been forever since I've seen you.”

The charm I'd started to turn on for Nicholas instantly faded. “Mister Doyle,” I said, responding formally to his use of my first name. “How nice that you could come.”

He glanced over at Nicholas. “I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's imperative that I—”

Cedric swiftly stepped forward and moved to Warren's side, blocking me from him. “Mister Doyle! I'm so glad you're here.”

Warren gave him a wary look. “You are?”

“Yes. There are all sorts of rumors about the Lorandians amassing soldiers on the borders of the northwestern colonies—some even harassing the forts up there. I was hoping you could provide some insight—after all, I've heard that no one in town is more knowledgeable
about the Lorandians than you. You stayed with them back on the continent, didn't you? I assume you must still know something of their affairs—unless you've let yourself get out of date.”

“Well, I . . .” Warren grew uncertain, torn between his ardent pursuit of me and the irresistible lure of Cedric's suggestion that Warren might be lacking in knowledge. Cedric pounced on that indecision and physically steered Warren away.

“Come, let's get a drink and discuss it further. We don't want to bore these two with politics.” And within moments, he had Warren halfway across the room.

Nicholas watched them with amusement. “He's
very
good at his job. I imagine it's tougher than it looks.”

“Yes,” I agreed a bit sadly.

He focused back on me. “But I imagine this is a tough job for you too. It must be like being on stage, right? Always on display, never showing weakness. Looking at you all tonight . . . it's kind of incredible. Every detail perfect. But do you ever feel like . . . well, forgive me if this is offensive, do you ever feel like commodities for sale in some shop window?”

It took me a moment to answer. We were coming upon the third week of our social season, and no man had ever thought to ask me anything like that. “Yes,” I admitted. “All the time.”

That honesty unlocked an ease between us, and we fell into avid conversation. I saw that Cedric was right about Nicholas being candid and funny, and he seemed to appreciate those qualities in me as well. We even talked a little about his legal practice, and I could tell he was surprised that I was so informed about law and politics. Under any other circumstances, I could have easily been this man's friend. Because despite how interesting he was, he mustered nothing more than fond feelings within me. But he was the most appealing of all the suitors I'd met so far. I shouldn't have been surprised, considering Cedric had handpicked him. Cedric knew me that well. And as the night progressed, I tried to decide: If I couldn't give Nicholas my
love, could I give him a happy enough marriage? It would be unfair otherwise.