“Okay, great. And if she decided to take a few weeks off, with no one to cover for her, and those well-to-do clients took their business elsewhere, did anyone steal money from her? No. But she lost it all the same. And that’s what giving up those seats means. Come spring, the roads’ll be flooded with trade. If I get south ahead of the rush, all those people in Denham and Joyce that’ve been waiting the whole winter will come to me first. But if I’m behind, they’ll find someone else.”
“That’s not a perfect analogy,” I insisted. “I’m not asking you to give up the seats for no reason. It’s an act of charity.”
“Why should I show charity to someone I just met? I mean, I’m not a cruel man, but come on. Would your mother let income slip away like that? Or was your family so flush with gold, you could afford to throw it around to hard-luck cases?”
“Let’s stop talking about my mother.” I rubbed my forehead and walked over to one of the windows. Two gray horses grazed beside a barn. “What if we pay you? Give up the seats, get your money back from Orla. Then we’ll give you a fee per seat to compensate for what you’ll lose in trade.”
Jago joined me by the window and leaned one shoulder against the wall. He took off his hat, revealing a burst of sun-bleached hair. “Your business sense might be wanting, but you’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
“So you’ll accept?”
“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “Well, that is, I probably can’t accept whatever you’re thinking of. You see all of this?” He gestured grandly at the stacks. “I’ve got more in the barns. To make up for not selling it early . . . I mean, I’m probably losing two gold in profit for each seat I give up. And I secured fifty seats. Do you have a hundred gold lying around?”
Not literally, no. But somewhere in Grashond, heaps of goods worth much more than that actually were lying around. Glittering Court brides usually cost over a hundred gold. Surely Jasper would see parting with additional property as a good deal to get us back in a timely manner.
“And I don’t even know if we need fifty spots,” I murmured, thinking aloud. “The sailors can fend for themselves. But we need space for our goods too . . .”
“Are you actually considering that?” Jago leaned forward, peering into my face with amazement. “You did hear me say a hundred gold, right?”
I met his eyes, which were an odd greenish color. No—actually, they were two different shades. One a pure green, the other green and hazel mixed.
“Yes,” he said unexpectedly, “they don’t match.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
“Oh, you can stare at me as much as you like. Besides, I’m used to it. The people around here think my eyes are some mark of the wayward angels.”
“People are foolish. Your eyes are marvelous. Now. I don’t have that much coin actually in hand, but I have plenty of goods to equal it.”
“Marvelous, huh?” He tilted his head and studied me with a lopsided smile for a few seconds. Then getting back on topic, he said, “I need currency. Already got too much to trade and not enough space to hold it.”
“What about jewelry? It’s small. Easily converted to coin.”
“True.” He played with the brim of his hat as he thought. “It’d depend on the jewelry, I suppose. And we’d have to settle on a higher amount then. To offset exchange fees and inconvenience.”
“How much higher?” I felt like the solution to my problems was right in front of me—except that solution was like water. Each time I tried to grasp it, it slipped through my fingers.
“And . . .” Jago walked away and resumed pacing. “Even if I get my money back from Orla, I still have to pay for transport south through some other means. That’s another fee.”
“Are you trying to gouge us? We need to get to Denham!”
“And you think I don’t?”
“I think . . . I think you could show a little more heart,” I said lamely. A headache was building, as was my frustration. I knew ultimately, if he was fixed on going, no deal of mine would matter.
Jago tapped his chest. “I’ve got plenty, believe me. It gave a little pitter-patter when I saw you at my door, even. But go ahead—give me your last, best shot. Move me to tears, and tell me why you’re really so anxious to get to Cape Triumph. And don’t say to get away from the Heirs, because we all want to do that.”
Gripping the windowsill, I looked outside again as I collected my thoughts. I couldn’t see the horses anymore. Move me to tears. He joked, but I might very well do it if I told him about Merry. And yet . . . how could I? I’d clung to my secret so fiercely that I hadn’t even revealed it to my best friends, ruining a friendship as a result. Why would I give everything up to a stranger?
“To find husbands,” I said at last. “We’ve been at a finishing school of sorts for the last year. It’s called the Glittering Court. They bring girls from Osfrid and show us off at dinners and balls in the hopes of meeting wealthy suitors.”
Silence. It dragged on and on. Mystified—as it was the longest he’d gone without talking—I turned around to see what had happened. Bewilderment filled those green-and-gold eyes.
“That,” he said, “is incredible.”
A glimmer of hope reared up in me. “Then you’ll help us?”
“What? No, of course not. I just mean, it’s incredible that that’s the argument you’re trying. Look, I feel sorry for you and your situation. Really. But come on. A month or so from now, you’re on the road. Two more months, you’re back with this Glittering Court, wearing bright colors again, and drinking champagne with some man who wants to keep you in luxury for the rest of your life. And you know what? The more I describe it, the more I don’t think I actually do feel sorry for you. In fact, I feel less guilty for refusing you now than I did before. The crumbling of my financial future is much more tragic than you having to wait a little longer to practice what I’m sure are formidable flirting skills with rich men. You know, some might even say you are the one lacking in heart for even suggesting this to me.”
“You don’t know anything about me!” My pulse quickened with outrage, and I balled my fists at my side.
Jago threw his hands up. “I gave you a chance to tell me.”
Frustrated tears pricked my eyes, and I stormed off to examine the closest stack of crates before he noticed. One box held a jumble of yarn skeins, suspenders, tin cups, and a few toys. I lifted out a wooden doll and ran my fingers over her face, painted with bright blue eyes and pink cheeks. I’d saved for a secondhand doll very like this one for Merry’s last birthday, and I felt an unbearable tightness in my throat, thinking how she was going to turn four without me. I’d written her pages of birthday wishes before I left Osfro and scraped up a little money for gifts to leave in Ma’s safekeeping. Over and over, I’d reminded myself the heartache would all be worth it when Merry and I were together in Cape Triumph.
Except I was here in Grashond. With no escape in sight.
The floor creaked with Jago’s footsteps, and I sensed him stopping just behind me. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “Why did Orla even offer this to you? She doesn’t usually go out of her way to help colonists.”
“I . . . don’t know.” It hadn’t fully struck me how strange this deal of hers might be. “We traveled together. I gave her some arnica, that’s it.”
“For a good price? I could probably have beat it.”
Trust me, Jacob Robinson isn’t going to get you to Cape Triumph.
“That’s all you can say?” I set the doll down and stomped toward the door. “Goodbye, Mister Robinson. If you can’t sell the seats, that’s fine, but I’m not some traveling act that came by to give you a little entertainment this afternoon! This is my life, my world—not some joke!”
He scurried over, the crooked smile vanishing. “Now, wait, I never said this was a joke—”
“No, you just
acted that way! I came here to make you a serious offer—a very fair one, I might add. And now, because you thought it was funny to toy with me, I’ll probably be late for dinner. They’ll have me writing scripture all night now.”
“Aw, don’t leave like this.” He searched around and snatched up the ribbons. “Take these, at least. Two for one.”
“Good day, Mister Robinson.”
I jerked the door open and then paused in the doorway, glancing back over my shoulder. “And just so you know, I didn’t charge her anything for the arnica. Can you beat that deal?”
I slammed the door and hurried to the road, afraid he’d come after me. The dark clouds had spread fully across the sky, which complemented my mood nicely. Scattered snowflakes drifted down, and I kicked at dead leaves and clumps of ice as I walked, trying not to scream my outrage to the world. Not that there was anyone to hear. Once I returned to the creek road and continued toward the Cole house, I saw no other homes or farms. Maybe a good yell would make me feel better. No, nothing was going to make me feel better.
Perhaps it had been too much to hope that a stranger would help me. And Jago was right that I wasn’t exactly asking a small thing. The Icori river route was even more valuable than I’d originally believed, now that I understood more about northern travel. Even those who braved the roads couldn’t move the amount of cargo the river barges could. Jago had every right to want to hold on to his prize.
But he could have been nicer about the whole thing.
I brushed snow out of my eyes and secured my cloak. He hadn’t actually been mean, I supposed. Not exactly. Mocking? That was closer. Had he ever at any point seriously considered helping me? He just thought I wanted a faster way to dresses and champagne. How could he know I was trying to get to the person I loved most—who needed me most—in the world?
I felt a pang, thinking again about Merry’s upcoming birthday. I’d left Ma with reams of letters and what presents I could muster. Had it been enough? Did Merry even care about the letters I took such pains to write? Maybe she didn’t even listen when they were read aloud. She was so, so young. Young enough to not understand a lot of things. Young enough to forget things more easily than adults did. Her safety and well-being were always foremost in my thoughts . . . but they were followed closely by a deep fear that maybe, after all I was going through, Merry was forgetting me.
The wind jerked my hood down, and I stopped to refasten it. As I did, I stepped out of the dark spiral in my head and got a good look at what was going on around me. It was snowing. Really snowing. Those whimsical little flakes that had first fallen when I left Jago’s had given way to a steady, thick snowfall that was rapidly accumulating. The dirt road was already almost completely covered. I resumed my trek, suddenly very conscious of everyone saying how unpredictable the blizzards around here were.
I couldn’t have much farther to go, though. I had a pretty clear sense of the way the roads were laid out, and even though I hadn’t taken this one earlier, I knew by where it intersected the others that there wasn’t much more than half a mile to the Cole house. I just had to stay on the road.
The wind played hide-and-seek, sometimes keeping still for a while, and then gusting with such fierceness that it nearly knocked me off my feet. I wished I’d thought to ask Jago for mittens. He probably could have given me an amazing deal. Thicker and thicker the snow grew. It coated my lashes, and the increasingly frigid air froze my nose and mouth. But what was most concerning was that I hadn’t reached Samuel’s house yet. I was certain I should’ve seen it by now, unless my calculations were radically off. That seemed unlikely. This was far simpler than the labyrinth of Osfro’s streets, and I was sure the house would pop up any minute.
But would I know it? The highway I’d walked into town ran in front of the Cole property. This creek road ran behind it. Samuel’s house was one of the bigger ones in Constancy and would be easy to spot from a distance—unless your visibility had been severely damaged.
I looked around at the swirling white world. What should I do? I couldn’t be sure yet that I really had missed the house, so backtracking seemed premature. But if I had gone past it, then what was going to happen to me if I kept going? The cobbler had said he lived along it, so maybe I’d come across his home. Or any home. But what if I didn’t? What if the creek road meandered out of town, and I ended up wandering lost in the woods? You wouldn’t wander long, a helpful inner voice pointed out. You’d freeze to death first.
With no answers, I kept trudging forward. I could still see the shapes of trees along the roadside, and I checked closely for any sign of a larger building beyond them. The stinging snow made it difficult to focus, and each time I tried to brush my eyes clean, tears would freeze around them.
Twice, I almost walked off the road and didn’t realize it until a tree materialized right in front of me. Between the wind and visibility, it was getting hard to even move in a straight line down the road. I had to have passed the Cole house. I needed to turn around. The cold began to numb my mind as well as my body. An overwhelming urge to just sit down while I figured things out spread over me. I was so tired. A small rest would help me make a decision . . .
No, Tamsin! If you give up now, you’ll never make it to Cape Triumph. Are you going to abandon Merry because of a little snow? The thought slapped me to attention as my knees started to buckle. I straightened up and gritted my teeth. I wasn’t beaten. Not yet.
Resolved, I turned back the way I’d come. I’d only taken a few steps when I just barely picked up on a strange noise beyond the wind. Peering around, I tried to locate the source. Was I hallucinating now? No, the sound was real. It was metallic and clipped, growing louder and closer.
Bells.
CHAPTER 11
A DARK, BLURRY SHAPE BROKE UP THE WHITE HAZE, materializing into a sleigh pulled by two gray horses. It drew up beside me, and as the driver leaned down and held out his hand, I recognized the red scarf covering most of his face. Jago waited until I was settled in the seat beside him, and then gave me a heavy wool blanket, large enough to drape over a bed. I cocooned myself in it and slouched down.
He pulled the scarf away from his mouth just enough to shout, “Okay?” I nodded. He shook the reins and guided the horses to turn around, but we didn’t go very far before he directed them to make a sharp, hairpin right. We crept our way down the road because of the conditions, and I had the sense Jago was searching for something. There wasn’t much to see, though. I couldn’t even be sure where the trees were anymore.
Twice, he stopped and walked around, holding on to a rope tied to the sleigh. I watched and waited, unable to speak in the wind and snow. When he returned from a third trip down, he redirected the horses to angle left. I felt the terrain below us change. The sleigh still glided easily over the thick layer of snow, but whatever was beneath it didn’t lie as evenly as the road had. Minutes later, the shadowy outlines of buildings came into view. With some squinting, I recognized the Cole house and barn.
Jago brought us as close to the front of the house as he could and helped me down. He watched me stagger to the door, and then he drove the sleigh toward the barn, soon disappearing from sight.
The wind ripped the door away from me as I opened it, bringing a swirl of snow inside. Closing it back up required throwing all my weight against it. Once the storm was shut out again, I leaned back and covered my eyes, panting, scarcely able to believe I was here. With a barrier between me and the elements, the world suddenly seemed impossibly still and quiet—and warm, not that any of that heat was getting into me yet. My legs trembled, and ice crystals covered much of my face.
“Tamsin!”
I rubbed my eyes and saw Winnifred and Gideon rush into the foyer. They pulled me into the main sitting area, bringing a chair up to the hearth, while Dinah gave the others curt orders for hot water and more blankets. The whole household was here, thankfully. It took me a few tries be
fore I could speak, and even then, my numb lips and tongue tripped me up.
“J-J-Jago is out-outside,” I said.
Samuel leaned closer. “Jago?”
“Jacob Robinson?” asked Gideon.
I managed a shallow nod and sipped at the tea Vanessa handed me. “He found me on the road. I think he’s in the b-barn. I hope he is.”
“Surely even he’s not fool enough to try and go back out in this,” said Samuel, exchanging troubled glances with Gideon.
Pounding at the door provided the answer, and Gideon scurried to help Jago inside. A fleece-lined cap with earflaps had replaced the wide-brimmed hat I’d seen earlier, and a shaggy fur coat covered his leather one. A layer of snow had turned all of it white, except for that defiant red scarf. He pulled it from his face to accept a cup of tea. “Thank you. I put my team in your barn—hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” replied Samuel.
“We were so worried, Tamsin,” Damaris said, wringing her hands. The other girls nodded anxiously.
“I was almost going to go out after you,” Gideon added. “But the storm blew up too quickly. Samuel didn’t think I could make it to town in time . . . and we didn’t know where you were.”
Dinah hovered at the room’s edge, arms crossed over her chest. “You wouldn’t have been caught in it if you’d been home sooner. Why were you late?”
“Come now, Dinah,” said Gideon, a small frown on his brow. “I think we can forgo any chastisement, given the circumstances.”
Dinah’s lips pressed into a straight line at the gentle rebuke, but she said no more.
“How do you two know each other?” Samuel asked Jago and me.
How indeed? I could hardly tell them I’d gone off alone to bargain with their resident pariah. Luckily, Jago naturally had no shortage of words. “We don’t, nothing more than a quick exchange of names. I was on my way back from town when I came across her. She told me she was coming here, and it was closer than my place.” He bestowed a smile on the other girls. “I had no idea what company you were keeping here.”