The Glittering Court (30 page)

I looked him over. Like me, he was dirty and disarrayed, his workman's clothes a far cry from the brocade vest and amber pin.

“You
saved
my life,” I told him. “And I don't need silk.” I pulled him toward me, and we met in a kiss. The world around me was golden. I was warmed by the sun, his embrace, and the joy building up within me. There was no dirt or fear or complication—only this perfect moment with him. “Now,” I said. “Show me around your house.”

His house consisted of one room. A battered, tiny stove in the corner provided both heat and cooking, though he didn't have much in the way of food. There were two chairs and a table about the width of a bookshelf. His bed was a hay-stuffed mattress on the floor—which was packed dirt, just like the Marshalls'. I tapped my foot on it.

“I know how to sweep this if you need help.”

He shook his head. “This whole place needs help. Do you want to see the rest of the property? I can even show you the basics of panning. I haven't been able to do much with it while working on this place.”

I hesitated. I did want to jump in and start earning the money to pay back Warren. And desolate or not, this claim and its view were beautiful. I wouldn't have minded exploring them.

“Mostly I just want a bath,” I blurted out. When he started laughing, I put my hands on my hips and attempted an affronted look. “Hey, some of us haven't been able to sleep out in the rain. Apparently baths are only for Saturdays at the Marshall house.”

It was worth the teasing in his eyes to see the old, genuine smile back.
He caught my hand again. “Come on. I think that can be arranged.”

“Is there a luxury bathhouse on your property?” I asked hopefully.

There wasn't, but there was a small pool—more of a pond, really—not far from a bend in the Mathias River. It appeared to be fed by some underground source, which wasn't surprising given the river's meandering and branching nature. A few trees grew around the pond, offering a little shade on the increasingly hot day.

“I know it's not what you're used to,” Cedric said apologetically. “But given the circumstances, I figured—wait, what are you doing?”

What I was doing was stripping off my clothes. I didn't care that I couldn't see the bottom of the pond. I didn't care that I had no soap. I didn't care if the neighborly prospector came strolling by and saw. And I certainly didn't care if Cedric saw.

I left my clothes in a pile on the thin grass and waded into the pond. The afternoon might be warm, but the water was still cool and welcome after days of grime and sweat. I didn't stop until the water was just below my shoulders, and then I dunked my head under in a feeble effort to clean my hair. When I emerged, I pushed the tangled mess back and looked around. Cedric still stood on the grass, his back to me.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “Come in here.”

“Adelaide! You're—”

“—perfectly respectable, I swear.”

“Is that a creative definition of respectable?” But he dared a peek back, looking relieved that I was mostly submerged.

“Come in here,” I said again. “You could use a bath too. Besides, didn't you see all this that day in the conservatory? Look, I'll even turn around.” I did and waited until I heard the sound of splashing as he too entered the water.

“You know,” he said, “you keep bringing that up, but I actually didn't see anything that day. I was so terrified that I pretty much looked everywhere but at you.”

I turned around and grinned, seeing him just a couple of feet
from me. “And here I thought I'd been feeding your imagination for months.”

“Oh, it's had plenty to feed on, don't you worry.” He dunked his head too and then brought it back up, scrubbing at his hair with his hands.

“For my last bath back at Wisteria Hollow, I used lavender cream soap from Lorandy. If I'd had any idea what I'd be facing here, I would've smuggled it with me.”

“I'll be sure and pick some up for you the next time I'm in White Rock,” Cedric said. “I think they sell it between the jerky stand and the ammunition tent.” I moved toward him, and he took a step back. “Adelaide . . .”

“We can't kiss? I thought we established you can't see anything.”

“I can feel plenty.”

I stepped toward him again, and this time he didn't retreat. “I thought you were the dark, wild rebel who leads maidens into unspeakable acts in moonlit groves.”

“That sounds like me,” he agreed. “But only if one of the aforementioned maidens is my wife.”

Mira's words came back to me. “The Alanzans do have morals.”

“Of course. Some do. Some don't. That, and I want to maintain something honorable and . . . I don't know . . . exalted with you.”

“I want that too.” I moved closer again. “But I also want to kiss you now.”

Cedric shook his head. “You don't make it easy. But then, you never have.”

He leaned down and cupped my face, kissing me without any more fear or hesitation. There was only the scantest breath of distance between us, a distance I knew we were both acutely aware of and struggling to maintain. Despite my bold words, I found myself shaking. I no longer felt cold in the water. I had that sense I always did with him, that the two of us were standing on some kind of precipice, always on the verge of some drastic outcome. I knew if I closed the
space between us and wrapped myself in him, all his honorable and exalted intentions would fall away—probably landing right beside my fine words about going to my wedding bed a virgin.

But we didn't close that distance. When we finally managed to part, we were both breathless and aching, starving for something we couldn't have.

Long, tension-filled moments hung between us as our gazes locked, and we both tried to gain some control of ourselves. “I think,” said Cedric, tucking a wet lock of hair behind my ear, “we should get married sooner rather than later.”

“I agree.” I was still reeling, still heady from how tantalizingly close he was. I took a few steps back, just to be safe, and then gestured around us. “But in the meantime, if we don't have anything better to do . . . well, do you want to go pan some gold and strike it rich?”

Chapter 24

We did not, as it turned out, strike it rich that day. Or the next day.

And soon, one day merged into another as we settled into a routine. Cedric was up at sunrise each morning to make the two-hour trip to the Marshalls'. He'd bring me back to his claim, and I'd help him until late afternoon. Then, it was another ride back to have dinner with the family. Cedric would return to his claim, and I'd tutor the children until we went to bed. I had no trouble falling asleep anymore.

I felt especially bad for Cedric. He spent half his day bringing me back and forth. But he said he liked having me around, and a lot of tasks went more smoothly with two sets of hands. Every little bit helped.

And really, we were just dealing with “little bits.” Panning for gold wasn't that difficult once I got the knack of it. The river was wide and shallow in some places, and it was a simple matter to wade out and sit on a rock. I could pan all day and end up with a handful of tiny, glittering gold pieces. Dust, really. A handful each day wasn't going to pay out what we owed Warren, certainly not in a month.

“It adds up,” Cedric told me near the end of one day.

I eyed our carefully protected hoard of gold dust. “Will it be enough?”

“It's worth more than you think. I mean, I'm sure back in Osfro, your servants swept up and threw out this much gold dust every day from your house. But in the real world, this is a lot of money.”

It was enough money, in fact, that Cedric announced he was going to take a trip into White Rock and spend it on something called a sluice.

“You're going to spend what little we have?” I asked. “Or are you using credit?” That would have been worse. I didn't want to owe Warren any more than we did.

Cedric shook his head. He didn't shave very often these days, and an auburn shadow covered his lower face. I didn't mind it, though it made for itchy kissing. “We've got enough in the gold we've panned so far to get what I need.”

“All that work gone.” The very thought made me weary, considering how many hours I'd spent standing in the river. Both of us had toughened up considerably in the last couple of weeks. I had calluses on my hands, and when I'd finally found a mirror, I'd discovered the hat had done only so much to keep the sun off me, as I'd feared.

“It'll be worth it to get what I need,” Cedric said. “Sluices sit in the river and essentially pan for us. We can get more gold in less time.”

“That's promising,” I admitted. “But sometimes, I feel like this claim has just enough gold to give us false hope but not enough to pay out. And I think Warren knew that.”

“There's a very real possibility of that.” Cedric's face started to fall, but then his optimism quickly returned. “But we're not going to make that call until we've exhausted all our options. If he expects us to give up at the first sign of trouble, he's in for a surprise.”

So, I spent the next day helping around the homestead. There was never any end to the chores needing to be done, something I thought about quite a bit. If Cedric and I were able to settle in Westhaven, life wouldn't be very different than in Hadisen. We'd be living on the frontier in modest accommodations. There'd be no servants to help. When I'd come to Blue Spring Manor, I'd been naïve about the labor ordinary people did. Now, I was rapidly becoming proficient in all sorts of tasks I'd never imagined.

I also found that all of my fancy education meant little to my
students. These were children who'd grown up without a school of any kind and had been sent to work early. The things I taught them were basic: reading and simple arithmetic. It gave me a new understanding of the world and the variety of people who lived within it.

These thoughts were on my mind when Cedric came for me the day after his White Rock trip. Noticing my thoughtfulness as we rode on old Lizzie, he asked me about it.

“It's hard out here, harder than I ever imagined,” I said, trying to explain. “But I don't always mind. I'm coming to love this land. I like the quietness. The openness. And I like the way people have come to better themselves—and not in the way the Glittering Court bettered us. It's hard to explain, but I realize the ‘common' people out here aren't going to be common forever. It's all survival now, but one day, arts and education could flourish here like they have in Osfro. And . . . I'm excited to be a part of it.”

He leaned forward to kiss me lightly on the neck. “It'll be even better in Westhaven. The determination they show here is a great thing, but it's even greater when paired with the freedom of thought and belief Westhaven'll have. Mind
and
body have to survive out here. Oh.” He shifted around behind me, reaching into his pocket. “I picked up a letter for you while I was in town.”

I read it as I rode. It was from Tamsin:

Dear Adelaide,

They tell me you can get letters out there, but I'm skeptical. I hope this actually reaches you and doesn't get eaten by a bear.

Life here is beautiful. I've gone to a different party every night. There've been a few gentlemen with potential, but I'm still holding out for Warren. His position, both in finances and in power, is exactly what I need. Plus, I'll be nearer to you! Now, if I could just get him to fall hopelessly, madly in love with me, things would be perfect. It's a good sign that he told me to wait for him, but I could use a little bit more.

Some of the Grashond settlers are still hanging around, and I wish they would go. I'm tired of seeing them. The only upside of them being here is that it reminds me how nice it is to wear color again.

Mira's been behaving very strangely. Did she do that while you were here? The last couple of days in particular, she's been off. Sometimes distracted, sometimes irritable. Since she's always been the least moody out of all of us, you can imagine how weird that is.

I found out she's only received one legitimate offer. Did you know that? I guess plenty of men like to dance with her and talk to her, but they leave it at that. The offer is from some ancient plantation owner. And I do mean ancient. He's at least eighty. I suppose that would make me irritable too, but it's a very respectable position. He's well-situated, and she'd have a lot of control of the house, which I think she'd like. And since he is so old, I don't think he'd ask much of her, if you know what I mean.

I wish I could write more, but that would take time away from doing my hair for tonight's party. It's at a shipping magnate's home. He's not as good a catch as Warren, but he's a solid backup—just in case.

I don't know how you could have given this up for digging in the dirt all day, but I hope you are happy and well.

All my love,

Tamsin

I smiled as I folded up the letter. I could practically hear every word of it coming from Tamsin's mouth. “She's always writing letters,” I told Cedric. “It's nice to finally get one of my own.”

The day was already heating up when we reached the claim, but I hardly noticed anymore. I worked in rolled-up sleeves and a split skirt of light cotton that Mistress Marshall had helped me make, since the suede one was too warm these days. I'd done a lot of the sewing myself, and while my stitches still weren't great, they were significantly improved.

Also improved was our efficiency once the sluices were set up. A
sluice was a wide box that water could run through, filtering through a screen that trapped heavy minerals—ideally, gold. We decided on a few good spots in the river and placed them there, watching for several minutes as though we expected huge gold boulders to immediately get trapped.

“Not an instant gold strike,” I said. “But faster than panning.”

Cedric handed me my pan. “Which we still have to do.”

We'd been out panning in the river for a couple of hours when we heard a voice call, “Thorn, are you here?”

We looked up. Several riders were cutting across the claim and waved their hands in greeting. Cedric waved back and began wading through the water toward them.

I followed close behind. “Who are they?”

“Alanzans. I saw them in town the other day. They just finalized the paperwork on a claim on the far edge of Hadisen—far by design. I know a cousin of theirs. He was one of the Alanzans arrested at the Star Advent that later managed to escape. He's waiting for them at that claim, and I told them to stop by when they made their trip out.”

Although I'd grown used to the idea of Cedric as an Alanzan, I'd yet to truly meet any others. This group looked perfectly ordinary, not much different from the Marshall clan. They wore rough, working-class clothes and hauled a wagon loaded with supplies. Cedric introduced them as the Galvestons, consisting of a middle-aged couple and their four children. Their oldest son was married and had his pregnant wife with them.

No sordid rituals or prayers followed. The Galvestons had been traveling that day and appreciated the break, especially from the younger children, who ran off to play. We sat with the adults and shared our water, mostly trading news. After a few weeks in Hadisen, Cedric and I felt like veterans and offered what expertise we had. The elder Mister Galveston, named Francis, proved to have more expertise as he surveyed the shanty.

“Why don't you have anything to seal this roof?” he asked.

“There's wood there. I nailed the boards in myself.” Cedric's pride in that feat was obvious, and I couldn't help smiling. I'd been there that day, and he'd hit his fingers with the hammer at least half a dozen times.

“And it's going to let in a deluge as soon as this place gets one of its famous storms. You need to get some canvas to cover the gaps. We got the last of it from the supplier in town. You'll have to wait until his new shipment comes in, or head back to Cape Triumph.”

“I don't think we'll be back there anytime soon,” Cedric said. “I'll have to take my chances with the rain.”

Francis gestured for his older son and Cedric to follow. “We might be able to do some patches. Let's take a look.”

That left me sitting with the women in the grass. Alice, the daughter-in-law, stretched and rested a hand on her swelling belly. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you.” She shared a knowing smile with her mother-in-law, Henrietta. “When we read my destiny card at the beginning of the pregnancy, I drew the Keeper of Roses.”

When they saw my blank look, Henrietta asked, “Aren't you familiar with the card?”

“I'm not familiar with any of the cards,” I admitted. I realized they were talking about the Deanzan cards, like the pack Ada had had. Ordinary people used them for games and fortune-telling. For the Alanzans, the cards had a more sacred meaning and were holy to Deanziel, the moon angel who governed inner wisdom.

Alice's frown smoothed out, but her confusion remained. “When Cedric introduced you as his fiancée, I just assumed . . .”

“That I was Alanzan?” I finished.

Both looked embarrassed, and then Alice asked, “Are you going to convert after you're married?”

“I hadn't planned on it.”

“Then why go to the trouble of raising money for Westhaven now?” asked Henrietta. The Galvestons would've liked to go there as
well but were waiting until the colony was more settled and required no charter fees. They hoped to earn money in gold in the meantime.

“For Cedric. I want him to be able to practice safely. And he's very interested in taking up a leadership role there,” I explained. “Being a charter member would help with that.” Awkward silence fell, and I tried to fill it when it was clear they wouldn't. “So. What does the Keeper of Roses mean?”

For a moment, I didn't think they'd tell me. “It shows a man who works hard in his garden, protecting delicate flowers against harsh conditions. He's ultimately rewarded with beautiful blooms,” said Henrietta.

I turned to Alice. “So for you, it's symbolic of the pregnancy. You're going through a lot of tough times now, facing a lot of hardships on this journey . . . but your baby will be born healthy and strong, ultimately flourishing as the roses do. I'd hope the card's message could be extrapolated to your family's all-around prosperity in Hadisen.”

Both women stared at me in astonishment.

“Was I close?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Henrietta at last. “Something like that.” Her eyes lifted beyond me. “Glen! Get down from there before you break your neck.”

The two young Galveston daughters were splashing in shallow water, but the younger son was trying to climb some of the rocky outcroppings that marked the beginning of the foothills and mountains. He wasn't going to get very high free-handed, but I could understand her concern. He didn't seem to hear.

“I'll go get him,” I said. I rose, both wanting to be helpful and get away from the stares.

Glen had made impressive progress getting up, which only meant he was in more danger if he slipped and fell.

“Glen,” I said. “Your mother wants you. It's too dangerous up there.”

He didn't even look at me. “Just a minute. I've almost got another one.”

“Another what?”

He stretched his arm up to a small jutting of stone and whooped triumphantly. Then he scrabbled down like some kind of rock lizard. The front of his overalls had a huge pocket that was filled with rocks. He slipped his shiny new find in with the rest.

I beckoned him back toward his family. “Isn't that heavy to carry around?”

“It's for my collection. I've got dozens more. Did you know there are people—special smart people—back in Osfrid who study rocks all the time?”

“I do know that. They're called geologists.”

“Geologists.” He said the word like he was tasting it.