“Well?” he asked.
“He’s everything you promised. I actually had a nice time.”
“Excellent.” Normally, Cedric would’ve looked smugger over such a triumph. Not so tonight. “I’ll have to work on him a little more, but if all goes well, I think I could expedite an offer and manage a covert wedding before the Doyles catch on. Unorthodox, but so long as I’ve handled the paperwork correctly and he pays your minimum, there’s nothing that goes against contract.”
“That’s great. That’s really . . .” The words caught in my throat, and I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t pretend gladness over a wedding I didn’t want, not when Cedric was standing in front of me. I rarely cried, but tears started to form in my eyes. Angrily, I blinked them away.
“Adelaide . . .” In his voice, I heard the same anguish I felt. His hand started to move toward me, and then he sharply pulled it away, clenching it as I’d done with mine earlier.
“There you are!”
Jasper strode up to us, and he was fuming. It was a rare sight, compared to his genteel public persona. “Adelaide, Mister Doyle and his mother are about to leave. You will go over to them now and bid them a proper farewell, with a promise to see them at another time.”
“Father—”
“No.” Jasper held a warning finger up to Cedric. “I don’t want to hear another word. You’ve already ruined this night by throwing her together with that lawyer! Do you think he can pay her minimum? He’s certainly not going to bid more if others are interested. I told you before, I will not let you ruin this.” Jasper fixed his hard gaze on me. “Now. Go.”
Cedric started to protest, but I waved it away. I didn’t want him in any more trouble. I gave Jasper a small curtsey. “Of course, Mister Thorn.”
Across the room, Warren and Viola were indeed making their exit. “Adelaide,” said Warren. “What a pity we couldn’t talk more. I wanted to tell you about some developments with the gold fields in Hadisen.”
“How fascinating,” I said, conscious of Jasper watching me. “Perhaps we could do it another time. I would so love to hear more.”
“Oh?” asked Viola archly. “I thought you were more interested in the law.”
I smiled sweetly. “Oh, Mistress Doyle. You know how these things are. They have us make the rounds—meet new people. It’s just a formality.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “It’d be a shame for you to be singling anyone out this soon.”
I nodded, even though it really wasn’t early in the season anymore, especially with so many girls having made contracts already. “Indeed. I’m just trying to be courteous.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Well then, perhaps you will soon be motivated to show Warren the courtesy of a private visit. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were putting on airs or behaving above your rank.”
I swallowed. “Certainly not.”
The party didn’t run as late as many of our others, but when morning came around, most of us were exhausted. It had all been wrapped in glitter and decorum, but these last few weeks had been grueling. As Nicholas Adelton had said, it was a tough job, no matter the surface appearance.
Some of the engaged girls still attended parties; others had opted out and now busily planned their weddings. The Glittering Court had no involvement in the wedding once the paperwork and payments were settled. Each girl was allowed to keep one dress, which she usually was married in. The extent of the rest of the wedding depended on the prospective husband. Some threw grandiose affairs. Some were too wiped out financially to afford much more than a magistrate’s fees.
Mistress Culpepper maintained a strict schedule and required all of us, engaged or not, to eat breakfast at exactly the same time each day. I didn’t mind the early wakeup, if only because breakfast was a brief reprieve from our social whirl. The Thorns, able to eat at their leisure, strolled in near the end of our meal, as was typical. Mistress Culpepper quickly found them chairs, seating Cedric next to me. I didn’t dare look at him, but the proximity made our legs touch under the table. At first, I kept my leg tense, but then I let it relax against his. I felt him do the same. For the remainder of the meal, I had no idea what I ate or said. My entire world focused on that touch.
One of the men who guarded the door called out that we had a guest. Mistress Culpepper hurried out of the dining room to investigate, and none of us reacted with much interest. Servants and messengers came and went at all times. Men with more serious intentions were politely told to come back later if they didn’t have an appointment.
So, it was a surprise when a pale Mistress Culpepper returned to us with a tall man following her. He wore a cheap, ill-fitting suit in plain worsted wool, which had to be uncomfortable with the recent spring turn our weather had taken. Gray streaked his thinning hair, and hard lines were etched into his face. Clearly, this was no enterprising suitor. Everyone around the table looked puzzled—everyone except Mira, oddly enough. She straightened up in her chair, eyes sharp. I couldn’t entirely decipher her expression. Shocked? Calculating? Maybe a little of both.
Charles rose from the table, straightening his jacket. He was as clueless as the rest of us, but he knew there had to be a reason Mistress Culpepper had admitted a guest at this hour. “May I help you, sir?”
The stranger gave a curt nod. “My name is Silas Garrett. I’m with the McGraw Agency.”
If anyone had thought this would be a boring morning, those notions were quickly shut down. The McGraw Agency was a group based out of Osfro who investigated all sorts of matters for those who could pay well enough. Technically, they were an independent organization, but we all knew they had royal authority to enforce the law. Their agents were notoriously ruthless and determined in their missions, going to great lengths—covert or overt—to achieve their goals. They investigated everything from infidelity among minor nobles to espionage for the king. There had been rumors of them being active in the New World, but no one knew for what, or who had employed them.
Jasper strolled up beside his brother. “My goodness. We rarely entertain gentlemen of such standing. I don’t suppose you’re looking for a wife?”
Silas Garrett didn’t crack a smile. “No, but I’m here looking for a woman.”
I don’t know how I knew then, but suddenly, I just did. My whole body stiffened, and I felt Cedric’s hand clasp mine under the table. I didn’t dare look at him, but I understood the message: Stay calm.
“I’m here on undisclosed business of my own, but I have a colleague up in Archerwood who was hired last summer to investigate the possibility that a runaway noblewoman had fled here from Osfrid,” Silas explained. “He’s had little luck—not surprising since Adoria’s such a big place, and he had no real clues about which colony she might have gone to.”
“Understandable,” said Charles. “Forgive me, but what does that have to do with us?”
Silas glanced between Charles and Jasper with hard eyes. “Well, I was recently given a tip that the lady in question might very well be in Cape Triumph—and that your household might have information about her whereabouts.”
“Us?” asked Charles. “How in the world would we know anything about a missing woman?”
“A noblewoman,” corrected Silas. “Lady Witmore, Countess of Rothford.”
Cedric’s hand tightened its grip.
“Countess . . .” Jasper’s brow knitted into a frown. “You don’t mean that business that stopped us in Osfro that night?”
“What night?” demanded Silas.
“Cedric and I were bringing a group of girls out last spring. They were stopping everyone at the city gates. We were searched and sent on our way.” Jasper glanced at his son. “You remember that, don’t you?”
Cedric nodded, wearing the open expression of someone who was simply pleasantly curious. “I do. It was causing quite a stir. Why’s it coming up again?”<
br />
“As I said, we received a tip that there might be some lead on the lady here in your household.” Silas glanced around those of us gathered at the table. “You have a great many girls here—the same age as Lady Witmore.”
Jasper’s smile stiffened, but only a little. “Yes, we do. Just as we do every year. It’s our business, Mister Garrett. We bring girls of marriageable age here from Osfrid. I can’t help it if your countess is the same age.”
“How would you even expect to find her?” asked Charles. “Surely you aren’t going to go blindly accusing my girls.”
“No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m merely following up on this lead and will send a letter to my colleague up north. All I know is that the lady has brown hair. He has a small portrait.” Silas’s manner was perfectly polite, but I saw his gaze linger briefly on every brown-haired girl at the table, including me. It was a relief that there were three others. “If he comes here, I’m sure he’ll bring it to confirm her identity. Can you verify that all of these girls come from the places they say?”
“These girls are from common backgrounds,” said Jasper. “Illiterate laborers don’t exactly keep extensive paperwork on their daughters. But I can tell you either my son or I saw the households each one came from. No countesses.”
“If we did have one,” quipped Cedric, “we could certainly charge a lot more.”
Silas turned his stare on Cedric, clearly not appreciating the joke. I could tell Cedric was going out of his way to be relaxed and affable, so as not to appear suspicious. But he would have been better off imitating his father and uncle, who were polite but both somewhat affronted.
“Mister Garrett,” said Jasper. “I respect what you do—I really do. But we already went through this in Osfro a year ago. I don’t know what it is that causes the eye of suspicion to keep falling on us, but please, until you have something more concrete than a ‘tip,’ I’d thank you to remember we’re trying to run a respectable business.”
“Of course,” said Silas, turning toward the doorway. “I’ll most certainly be back if I know more.”
“Before you go,” called Cedric. “I’m terribly curious about where you got this tip.”
“Anonymous,” said Silas. “Showed up late last night.”
It was hard to keep my panic down until Cedric and I caught a quick moment alone later in the day, just before some suitors were coming for afternoon tea.
“His partner has a portrait!” I hissed. “No doubt supplied by my grandmother when she hired him to come to Adoria.”
Cedric’s face was grim. “And Mister Garrett’s ‘tip’ was most certainly from the Doyles.”
“Viola. Warren still seems so . . . I don’t know. Hapless. She suggested that I might become ‘motivated’ to pay more attention to him.”
“And thus the motivation is possible exposure and capture— assuming you don’t get married first.”
I briefly closed my eyes. “And no doubt she’s hoping I’ll panic and use Warren for the marriage that will save me.”
“No.” Cedric stepped toward me and held my hands, a dangerous gesture when anyone in the house might walk right into this parlor. “I told you before, you won’t be forced to do that. We’ll get things settled with Nicholas Adelton and get them settled quickly. But while we do . . .”
I eyed him carefully. Tenderness filled his face, but I could tell there was something he was hesitant to tell me. “Yes?” I prompted.
“We’re going to need to make sure the Doyles don’t take any more action. We need to pacify them.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Adelaide. But you’re going to have to make it look like you want him.”
Chapter 18
“The Icori didn’t know Hadisen had so many gold deposits. But why would they? They’re savages. They don’t mine. They don’t have the technology for it. It’s a wonder they ever got across the sea. So we got a deal on it in the treaty.”
Warren looked at me expectantly, and I mustered what I hoped was an impressed smile. “Was it really for sale, exactly?” I asked. “I mean, it was where they lived.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“It wasn’t like it was a commodity they had lying around. It was their home. When they made the treaty, where were they supposed to go?”
“We didn’t take all their lands,” he said. “They had plenty left.”
I’d seen the maps in my studies. “Plenty” was an overly optimistic way to describe it.
“And,” he continued, “they can always move over to the western tribes’ territory.”
“Won’t that cause friction with those tribes?” I asked.
“Not our problem. We’re the conquerors.”
I opened my mouth to protest and then thought better of it. It had been this way for the last week, during which I’d had three visits with Warren—two public and one private. He wasn’t exactly offensive, but there were a number of times I’d had to bite my tongue, lest I counter his opinions. Be charming, Cedric had advised me. Give him no reason to suspect anything.
“How wonderful,” I said, switching to something less controversial. “To have all that gold.”
Warren nodded eagerly. “Yes. It’s practically just lying around, waiting for anyone to take. We’ve got too few men to help get it out, but I think once we put the call out, and I arrive with a more established presence, settlers are going to flock to it.” He regarded me meaningfully. “I’m leaving in two weeks.”
I knew that. He reminded me of it every time we were together. Putting him off this long had saved me from a wedding before his departure, but I knew he and Viola were hoping to have a marriage contract sealed before then. My friendliness this week might have bought me some time, but soon, the Doyles were going to demand more.
“Pardon me,” I said, rising from my chair. He immediately stood as well. “I must check my hair.” It was a polite way of saying one had to visit the bathroom, and it provided a guaranteed escape.
This party at the Doyle estate had lasted for three hours, and I hoped we’d be going soon. Cedric was our chaperone, and our exit was in his hands. I might normally have persuaded him to an earlier time, but he’d been watching Caroline all evening. She seemed to have ensnared a respectable landowner who wouldn’t leave her side. She’d had some difficulty with offers, and Cedric didn’t want to ruin it.
He did, however, intercept me as I turned down the hall leading to the facilities. We rounded a corner and stopped, waiting for two men grumbling about taxes to walk by us. “We need to talk,” Cedric said in a low voice.
I glanced around. “Here?”
“There’s been no other chance.” It was true. With fewer girls left, our social schedule had significantly picked up. He took my hand to pull me around a corner. “I have good news and bad news.”
“I hope the good news is that you’ve somehow acquired ten times more money than you need for the Westhaven stake and that the bad is you just don’t know how to spend the rest.”
“I’d give it to you, of course, to keep you in the lifestyle you’re accustomed to. But no, I’m afraid that’s not it.” He checked our surroundings one more time before continuing. “There’s a man here interested in the painting.”
That was good news. “How much?
“Four hundred.”
“That’s most of your stake! What’s the bad news?”
“He wants it authenticated.” Cedric shook his head. “But, as you can guess, there aren’t that many people in the colonies who are qualified to judge Myrikosi art. So, he’s willing to wait—which means we wait. Unless we can find another buyer.”
“There aren’t too many of those either.”
“Not in Denham, no. But my agent is going to send out feelers to some of the southern colonies. In the meantime . . .” His manner told me there was more news—and not ne
cessarily good. “There’ve been some developments with Nicholas Adelton.”
“Oh?” I tried to keep my tone light, knowing I should be glad for this.
“He’s been up in Thomaston this week—helping someone settle a trade dispute. I hear he took the case pro bono.”
“Very kind of him.”
“Yes,” said Cedric. He also appeared to be struggling with an upbeat tone. “He’s a very kind man. And he’ll be back the day after tomorrow—in time for the Flower Festival, for which I’ve gotten him an invitation. I’m positive we can settle things then.”
“So I just have to string Warren along a little longer.”
We’d had no more visits from Silas Garrett, but the threat he’d presented still hung over my head. He’d looked as though he was memorizing every girl’s face, and I knew if he saw that portrait, he’d immediately identify me. I needed to secure my position quickly.
“I’m sure that won’t be hard for you,” Cedric replied. I met his eyes and wished I didn’t see such longing. This would be a lot easier to deal with if he’d been indifferent to me. “Go now—before Warren and his mother wonder what happened to you.”
“Okay. As soon as you let go of my hand.”
He looked down at our laced fingers and said nothing for several moments. Then, with great care, he brought my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss onto the back of it. I closed my eyes, wishing I could freeze that moment in time. When he released my hand, I could still feel the warmth of his lips on my skin. And neither of us moved. It took the loud laughter of a tipsy group walking down an adjacent hall to jolt us back to reality.
I returned to the main party, bracing for more of Warren’s self-important conversation. To my surprise, Mira was speaking to him, giving me a temporary reprieve. I eyed her curiously, wondering what had sparked this. She’d yet to show any particular interest in a suitor. She hadn’t even mentioned any offers, though I knew she’d entertained callers just as the rest of us had. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen her actively pursuing Warren. Was it possible she was interested in him?