Grant frowned. “There’s more to it than that.”
“It sounds pretty straightforward to me.”
“Mirabel, I’ll get my status back.” In one of the few times in our acquaintance, he was trying to convince me of something, rather than telling me. He was almost beseeching me. “I’ll probably get a new name—a real name, not that ‘no status’ joke my uncle gave me! Everything they took away will be restored—and then some.”
“But is it what you want?” I exclaimed. He seemed so indifferent to the world sometimes. This was almost beyond comprehension. “Do you really want to live with people who did that to you? Abandon Silas and Aiana? They’re more like family than any of your blood relations.”
“It’s not just about them. It’s the land, too. I thought you of all people would know what it’s like to have your homeland ripped away from you.”
“I rejected it. It didn’t reject me.”
“So you’re done with it? You’re done being Sirminican? You’ve settled too comfortably into Osfridian high society?”
The questions caught me off guard. “N-no. Of course not.”
“Do you want to see Sirminica again?” he pushed.
“Yes. It’s still a part of me. But it’s not possible to get back anytime soon.”
“Well, the Empire’s still a part of me too. I feel it inside.” He tapped his chest. “I need to see it again, and I can get back.”
“Yes, but you seem obsessed with doing it in a way that focuses on revenge. Outranking your uncle was the first thing you mentioned—not reuniting with your birthplace.”
“You’re in no position to lecture me, considering some of your current life choices,” he warned.
“And you’re in no position to lecture me for keeping secrets! When were you going to tell me this? I would’ve liked to have known before I got into your bed that you were going to head off across the continent afterward!”
“Would that have made a difference?” he asked. “You just said you hadn’t thought beyond this.”
“I guess I’m not the only one,” I snapped. “But why does it matter? You only like me a little, after all.” Even as I spoke, I knew I was a hypocrite. I’d made plans without him and then had the audacity to be outraged when he made his own. No one had been betrayed here. There were no promises between us. I knew all of that . . . but it didn’t change how hurt and angry I felt. How broken and dismissed.
Grant was clearly upset too, but he faltered for just a moment. He glanced across the room. “Maybe . . . maybe you’d like to see the lands up north.”
I pulled the blankets off me and scooted out of the bed to search for my clothes. “I’m not going to be your tagalong, any more than you’ll be my secret lover. I have too much self-respect.”
He stood up and began pulling on his own pants as I struggled to dress. “Does that involve using an old man for his money? Joining a group of pirates?” Grant gestured angrily around. “Even if you really are picking jobs that let you sleep at night, the rest of your friends aren’t so picky. And by supporting them with what you do choose, you’re unwittingly furthering them in what you don’t. I never thought you were that kind of person, Mirabel.”
“I’m not doing this for me!” I cried. “I have to do whatever I can to save Lonzo. And you don’t understand that this is the only way to do it!”
“And you don’t understand that this is the only way I can do what I need to!”
Silence. We stood there staring at each other, eyes locked, both of us raging. All I could think was Another day, another fight with Grant.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I said, my voice hoarse. I nodded toward the bed. “Thank you . . . for that. But I’m done. Done with everything. You should’ve listened to Silas about me. I’m cutting myself off from your case. I’m sure you’ll do just fine alone—you always have.”
He crossed his arms. “That’s probably for the best. Don’t worry—I’ll still make sure you get some of the reward. I know how much that means to you. I’ve got some gold here—”
“No.” I held up my palm. “Keep it. I don’t want it. I don’t want anything from you anymore.”
He scoffed. “Of course. Because I’m out of your system now?”
“Yes.” Even I was surprised at how cold the word sounded. “And because it’s obvious I was never in yours.” I readied myself for a biting retort, but it didn’t come.
“Mirabel . . .”
He reached out and touched my cheek. I jumped a little, and he quickly pulled his hand back, staring at his wet fingertip like he’d never seen anything like it before. I rubbed my face, embarrassed at those few traitorous tears. I didn’t even understand why they were there.
He didn’t say anything else and just held that hand up wonderingly. I couldn’t handle him seeing me like this anymore. Without another word either, I spun around and rushed out of the bedroom and out the front door. I was afraid he’d try to stop me. And also afraid that he wouldn’t.
But he let me go—like he always did—and as I slammed the door, the words of our earlier conversation hit me like a physical blow.
“I’ve never thrown you out. You stormed out.”
“I won’t this time.”
I ran down the steps. Drunken revelers still staggered down the streets, but I didn’t look at anything or anyone until I was outside the city and almost to the marsh path. I stopped to gather myself and was surprised to find myself shaking. There was a terrible ache in my chest, so painful that I didn’t know how I could take another step. I wasn’t angry anymore. Just sad. And drained. I blinked back more tears and then plunged into the brush.
What had just happened?
I’d been overwhelmed when I found out he was alive, ecstatic when we finally gave in to each other. And now . . . now I just wanted to crawl away and hide myself from the world. His words still smarted, especially because there’d been some truth in them. I wouldn’t back down from helping Lonzo, but a shadow of dishonor definitely hung over what I was doing with Tom and Rupert, no matter how much I wanted to convince myself otherwise. I was as bad as my father, using any means I could.
But Grant should’ve also told me he’d been planning to leave Cape Triumph—and that it wasn’t just to wander the colonies, but to settle in an entirely different nation. A nation far from me.
I didn’t really think about us beyond this.
I came to a sudden stop on the path as I remembered his face when I’d said those words. I hadn’t recognized it at the time, but now, I realized what I’d so briefly seen in his features. Pain. When I’d arrived, bursting with joy and relief to see him alive, he’d told me he wasn’t easy to hurt. But it turned out he was—and I’d been the one to do it.
I picked up my pace, getting angrier and more distraught—both at myself and Grant. And the mud. It was growing softer and softer as spring pushed forward. Suddenly, desperately, I wanted to see Adelaide. She was the only person left here I still loved without complication. I knew she’d been distressed recently, but I hadn’t probed it because I had so many other things that needed my attention. I’d been a shoddy friend and needed to fix that. I’d find out what was making her sad, and I’d stop holding back from her. I’d tell her everything. She’d be shocked, but she loved me too. And it’d be a relief to finally—
“Mira?”
I’d almost reached the edge of the woods when someone moved ahead of me. I reached for the dirk and then recognized Aiana’s voice.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. I could just barely see her peering behind me.
“Is Adelaide with you?”
Something about her tone made my blood run cold. “No, why would she be?”
“I just checked your room—to see if you were back, actually. I wish you’d told me how early you were leaving the gala! Anyway, she wasn’t there either or in
any of the washrooms.”
I pushed my way out to the road. “Well, she must be inside there somewhere. She wouldn’t leave . . .”
Wouldn’t she? Adelaide had never shown signs of sneaking out again, but I had no idea what the truth might be. It was another mark of my failings as a friend.
Aiana smuggled me inside the sleeping house through a side door she was supposed to be guarding, and I thanked her for saving me a trellis climb. I moved quietly and quickly up the stairs and flung open my bedroom door. No Adelaide. All the panic I’d felt for Grant earlier now returned and shifted onto her. The stark fear of losing her made me tremble as I hurriedly changed out of my dirty clothes and put on a nightgown. I needed to search the house. She couldn’t have sneaked out after the gala. She couldn’t have. She was probably in the kitchen. This was all just a big—
Shouts sounded from out in the hall. I heard people running and doors opening, along with more yelling and frantic voices. I raced out the door and found nearly all the other girls looking out of their own rooms. The bodyguards thundered up the stairs. Jasper, Charles, and Mistress Culpepper followed with Clara right on their heels. They were all running toward the end of the hall, toward the attic door. Toward Adelaide.
She still wore the white satin gown from earlier and clutched her silver mask in one hand. Fear filled her wide blue eyes, like she’d wandered off and now found herself lost and stranded in the wilderness. Cedric stood next to her, but then Jasper pulled him away and started shouting, “What have you done? What have you done?”
I pushed my way through my nightgown-clad housemates and linked my arm through Adelaide’s. “It’s okay,” I told her, not really knowing if it was. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Jasper turned toward me, his eyes glittering with rage as he clutched Cedric’s arm. “It is not going to be okay! For five years, I’ve run one of the most prestigious businesses in Cape Triumph, and now it’s all going to fall apart when they find out my own son couldn’t keep his hands off one of our girls.” He fixed his glare first on Cedric, then Adelaide. “These two have ruined us!”
CHAPTER 24
GASPS SOUNDED THROUGHOUT THE HALL. I WAS AS dumbstruck as everyone else, but I forced my confusion aside as I pulled Adelaide closer to me. I had to protect her. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I repeated. “I’ll get you out of here.”
“You will do no such thing.” Mistress Culpepper strode up to us, fury etched upon her sharp face. She had on the same stiff dress from this morning, and I wondered if she slept in it. “The only place you’re going is to your room. Now.”
Adelaide was still in shock, and I guided her toward our door. Everyone was already whispering and pointing, and I refused to let them see more. Cedric was practically being dragged away by his father and one of the hired men. Seeing them pass us was the only thing that snapped Adelaide out of her daze. “Cedric . . .”
He looked back over his shoulder at her, and then he was gone. I pushed her into our room, and just as I closed the door, I heard Mistress Culpepper say, “I want two of you stationed outside her room all night. No one goes in or out.”
Adelaide flounced onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. I moved swiftly to her side and put my arm around her. “What happened?”
She dropped her hands and shook her head. “Oh, Mira. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Tell me what already happened.”
Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She was one of those people who still looked beautiful while crying. “Cedric and I—we—that is—Clara found us—and now . . . I don’t know.”
It was strange to have poised, eloquent Adelaide so at a loss for words. But even with her lack of coherency, a feeling of dread began to build within me. Was it possible that I wasn’t the only one who’d done some scandalous things tonight?
“Adelaide, what did Clara find you and Cedric doing?”
“Nothing!” she exclaimed. “I mean, it was only kissing. Not whatever she’s saying. We only kissed. Just like the last time.”
“Last time? How many . . . times have there been?”
She wiped at her face. “Only those. I’ve loved him longer than that, ever since . . . well, I don’t know how long. We can’t get married, though. But there’s no way I can marry anyone else. Not anymore. What are they going to do to Cedric? What are they going to do to me? I’m going to have to go to a workhouse!”
“You absolutely will not. I’ll smuggle you out on a ship before that happens. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”
I helped her get out of the elaborate dress and into a nightgown. As I washed the makeup from her face with a cool cloth, my mind raced. I was an even worse friend than I’d thought. Because in looking back, I realized that I should’ve known a long, long time ago that Adelaide and Cedric were in love. It was so obvious in the way they sought each other out, the way she used to light up whenever he visited Blue Spring. Any friend of theirs would have seen it. Any friend whose head wasn’t filled with spies and pirates.
As she grew calmer, I got a slightly clearer version of the story. Apparently, she and Cedric had only recently discovered their love, and they’d tried to ignore it—resulting in both of them being miserable for the last month as Adelaide was trotted out for man after man. Everything had exploded when Clara had walked in on them kissing in the attic tonight.
“What are they going to do to Cedric?” Adelaide asked again. “They can’t ignore this. We’re all supposed to be protected and virtuous.”
I certainly wasn’t in the ranks of the virtuous anymore. I felt embarrassed that Adelaide and Cedric—so deeply in love—had managed to restrain themselves. As for me, I’d shamelessly given myself to . . . what? What was Grant to me?
I couldn’t unburden myself to Adelaide now. Not anymore. She had too much going on without taking on my problems. She spent most of the night telling me variations of the same story, crying, and worrying about what would happen next. When she dozed a little near sunrise, I stayed awake and watched over her.
Mistress Culpepper came knocking early and told us Adelaide needed to be downstairs in thirty minutes for a meeting with the Thorns in their private office. We were released from our confinement and allowed to clean up in the washrooms, but the bodyguards still hovered in the hallway. Adelaide’s hysteria had faded, and she stood ready to face what was to come. There was no sign of last night’s tears, and she strode down the stairs with her head high.
The other girls were already up, lingering in the foyer or parlor or anywhere that kept them within sight of the office. Once Adelaide had gone inside it and shut the door, I stood in the hallway opposite it and crossed my arms over my chest.
My defensive stance made the others steer clear of me, though I saw a few eye me curiously, no doubt hoping I had some new piece of the story. I stared straight ahead and stayed silent, even when I heard Clara recounting a very exaggerated, very unflattering version of what had happened last night.
I only broke my silence to ask loudly, “What were you doing in the attic last night anyway, Clara?” When she promptly stopped her story, I suspected I wasn’t the only one who had discovered the trellis.
Things got more interesting when Warren Doyle and his mother showed up at the front door, insisting they speak with Charles and Jasper.
“I—I’m sorry,” said Mistress Culpepper, more flustered than I’d ever seen. “Mister Charles and Mister Jasper are currently engaged with, ah, Mister Cedric and Miss Bailey.”
But after a quick check with the Thorns, the Doyles were admitted to the office. I wondered how they could have found out so soon. Certainly not from us cloistered girls. The bodyguards, I supposed. This was good gossip for a festival night.
“Who in the world is that now?” exclaimed Mistress Culpepper when another knock sounded. “Does everyone
in the city know? Answer it, Judith.”
When Miss Bradley opened the door, it was obvious those waiting outside weren’t from Cape Triumph. Three men and a woman in plainly cut clothing of blue-gray wool stood on the front porch, their expressions solemn. One man looked a little older than me. His companions were middle-aged. I glanced beyond them in astonishment. More people—a lot more people—dressed in similar clothing stretched out into the house’s yard. Most appeared to be women.
The younger man took off his hat, revealing neatly cut blond hair. “Good morning, Mistress. My name is Gideon Stewart. Can you tell me if this is the household of Mister Charles Th—”
“Winnifred! Joan!”
Martha came tearing across the room, and suddenly, two very pretty girls pushed past the men in the doorway and ran to her. And then more girls came in. And more. All were drably dressed in variants of blue and gray, but as I took in their ages and beauty, I knew who they were. The foyer filled up, and I had to stand on my tiptoes to find who I sought over the crowd—but there she was, all the way in the back of the group, not even inside the house yet.
I felt weak for a moment, like my knees would give out, and then a burst of energy jolted me to life. I couldn’t get across the foyer easily, so instead, I ran to the office door and threw it open. Adelaide sat with the Thorns and the Doyles, and all looked up in astonishment at my entrance.
Jasper scowled. “I told you lot not to—”
“They’re here!” I cried. “They’re here! I don’t understand it, but they’re here.”
“Who?” he demanded.
“The other girls! The other ship.” I looked at Adelaide, needing her to understand how crucial this was. “Adelaide, Tamsin’s alive!”