The Emerald Sea

  I averted my eyes, wishing I could force a blush, though that wasn’t a skill I’d ever managed. “I’m still mortified about that. Thank goodness no one overheard.”

  Taking my hand again, he led me toward the other dancers. My spirits soared as he said, “You can make it up to me with a dance.”

  Just then, inconveniently, my missing partner ran breathlessly up to us. Mister Wells nodded a greeting at Warren and quickly turned to me. “I’m so sorry—I hadn’t noticed the song had ended. Shall we?”

  Warren pointedly put a hand on my waist. “I had just asked her to dance—didn’t realize you’d staked a claim, Howard. There’s always the next dance. Let that be a lesson on attentiveness.”

  Mister Wells was left behind, and I couldn’t help a laugh. “Are you mocking that poor man?” Warren asked.

  “No, no. I’m just thinking he got off easy—as far as lessons on attentiveness go. Up where we were staying in Grashond, that sort of lesson would have involved copying pages of scripture, not missing out on a dance. Well, actually—they don’t dance.”

  Warren’s eyes grew thoughtful. “I still think it’s incredible you spent so much time with those people. I’ll be honest—it sounds terrible.”

  “Not all of it. And we’re certainly grateful for their kindness.”

  “There’s a way you say ‘kindness’ that makes me think there’s a story there.”

  “There are several. If you want to hear them, you’ll have to schedule time for another day.”

  “Do you even have any?” he asked with a laugh. “From what I hear, you’re pretty in demand. A friend of mine was saying he regrets settling for one of the girls in the first group.”

  I glanced away, feigning interest in the other dancers. “Well, it’s lucky you didn’t make that same mistake, now, isn’t it?”

  I held my breath, wondering if I was being too bold, but he chuckled again. “So it seems. And I suppose I was lucky to be mistaken for the help just now too.”

  “Hush. You said this dance settled that. But I am surprised you would be skulking, as you put it. If it’s not too forward of me to say, you’re about to march off in triumph to your own colony. It seems like you should be the center of attention tonight.”

  He sighed, the amusement slipping away. “Oh, I could be, but I don’t have the time. I don’t really have the time to be here, period, not with all that I have to do. But my father wants to show me off, so I’m going through the motions.”

  “What all do you have to do? I’m good at getting things done and will help you if I can. Not that I have a lot of time myself, of course.”

  That brought a return of the smile. “Of course. It’d only bore you, I’m afraid. Just the endless logistics of leading people who are constantly demanding one thing or another from you and then have the audacity to be offended when you have no time to lead.”

  I didn’t have to fake my scoff. “Mister Doyle, you’ve clearly forgotten how I spent my first six weeks in Adoria. Now. Tell me one of your problems.”

  “Okay,” he said, after scrutinizing my face. “I’m having trouble keeping regular supplies coming into Hadisen for the settlers there. Most came with their own goods, but those don’t last forever. You can’t imagine how hard it is getting respectable shopkeepers to settle out in the wilderness when they can stay comfortably, say, in Archerwood and earn a steady income.”

  “Easy. Money motivates people. So offer them a better-than-steady income.”

  “By letting them price gouge? Certainly not. And I don’t have extra funds to offer incentives.”

  “No need to give what you have. Give what you don’t. Tax breaks, favorable trade regulations. It costs you nothing and keeps your settlers around—and hopefully attracts more.”

  Warren stared off for a few moments, face speculative, before turning back to me. “That’s an elegant solution. An absurdly simple one—and that’s a jab at me, not you, because I should have thought of it.”

  “Well, remember, I was actually spending time with traders in the wilderness not so long ago . . .” A sudden longing for Jago stopped me. My host’s home, filled with velvet upholstery and rose-scented candles and burnished fixtures, became suffocating and superficial. It was a world away from sitting outside in Jago’s sleigh, surrounded by endless land and fresh, crisp air. A knot formed in my chest.

  “Miss Wright? Tamsin?” Warren prompted politely. “What were you saying? You ran into traders during your trip?”

  I pushed aside the mental image of hazel-and-green eyes and fixed my attention on Warren’s dark ones, slipping back into form. “Oh, yes. Traders and just about every other kind of people in Adoria. I don’t suppose your next problem is recruiting Balanquans, Icori, or the Heirs of Uros to Hadisen, is it? I have a bit of expertise there.”

  “I’m sure you do,” he said with a grin. “I still can’t believe you traveled with the Icori. I still can’t believe they let you, given the stories I’ve heard about them attacking our people.” His brow wrinkled as he considered it further. “Weren’t you and the others afraid of them?”

  “Not of the group we traveled with. Besides, we had our own soldiers along for protection—although they probably needed protection from us. Their leader—Lieutenant Harper—had a few admirers, to put it mildly. A good friend of mine was especially devoted. It made for an interesting trip.”

  I laughed prettily and expected him to pick up the cue and ask for juicy details, but he wasn’t quite there yet. “Harper came here with the Icori? No one told me that! When I heard he was in town, I assumed he’d come to ask for backup on the border against the Icori. Typical. My father loves bragging about how I’ve become a governor, but he still insists on treating me like an underling.”

  The scowl on Warren’s face took me aback, though I could tell I wasn’t the target. Keeping my tone light, I said, “No one who meets you would ever think of you that way. And there’s no need for Lieutenant Harper to ask for backup. The way I, ah, hear it, there was some misunderstanding about the Icori attacks. He’s been working toward peace with Kerniall, so that’s good news, isn’t it?”

  Warren, apparently still irked at the perceived slight, didn’t process my question right away. When he did, he sighed, and the dark expression smoothed. “I’m sorry for that outburst—it just caught me off guard to hear about this. I need to know these things to do my job. When I’m out of the loop on something—”

  “—then others get an edge you don’t have,” I supplied.

  He looked me over again, but this time, I felt he was really, truly seeing me. “Yes. You understand that—how important it is to get an edge sometimes.”

  I shook my head. “Mister Doyle, I believe it’s important all of the time.”

  Something sparked in his eyes, but before he could comment, a man in gray approached deferentially, a pink bottle in his hand. “Sir? I have the champagne you requested.”

  The song ended just then, and Warren glanced around. “How’s that for timing? Open it over there and bring a glass for the young lady. Thank you.” To me, Warren said, “Can I join you and share another dance?”

  It took all of my self-resolve to say, “As lovely as that sounds, it’d be unfair to Mister Cambridge over there. He made his arrangement hours ago.”

  “Unfair? It’d be downright cruel from the looks of it,” Warren remarked, following my gaze to where the aforementioned gentleman shifted from foot to foot, eyes wide and hopeful—though he was too timid to intrude on Warren. “Perhaps it’s for the best. I can leave now to get some work done without my father’s censure. He’s not even here tonight, but word always gets back to him.” At the mention of the elder governor, Warren’s tone grew bitter. “No doubt he’s off collecting more information to keep from me. If I’d known about Harper sooner, I would’ve pushed harder for a meeting and set him straight about the Icori. It’s diff
icult scheduling time with the officers these days—and now it’s too late.”

  A chill ran over me at those words, and ignoring Mister Cambridge and the champagne-bearing servant, I caught Warren’s sleeve and asked, “Set him straight how?”

  Warren hesitated. “I know you’re friendly with the Kerniall Icori—and I’m glad of that. I’m glad they treated you decently. But I hear a lot of things—you know about the patrols I run?”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to comment. There’d been growing unease about heretics in the colonies, and Warren had personally organized patrols to investigate reports of illegal religious activity. A year ago, I would have endorsed it—if I’d even given it much consideration at all. The dissident Alanzan group had strange practices—such as worshipping outdoors—and keeping them away from ordinary followers of Uros seemed right. Now, after my time with the Heirs and Gideon, I was starting to appreciate how those with different beliefs might have valid reasons for their choices, even if I didn’t share them.

  “Most of those patrols stay in Denham, but we get around the neighboring colonies too. And I’ve heard rumors of Icori in the north and the south spying and planning a joint attack. The clans in South Joyce have already stirred up trouble. And in the north . . . there’s another clan, the Kernady? Over the border, farther up by the Balanquans. There are all sorts of reports of their raids. Maybe the Kerniall aren’t involved with them—I hope not—but Harper and the rest of the armies are fools not to watch that area. Who knows what could happen if all those clans united? My friend Dale Eubanks was up in Bakerston and talked to actual victims.”

  “You hear a lot of things,” I said, surprised. From what I’d observed in Cape Triumph, most of Denham was oblivious to the outer colonies’ affairs.

  “I have to stay informed. I’m not insulated like these colonies. My citizens are out there on the borders—they’re the ones at risk. My father can brush these rumors and reports aside, but I can’t. I don’t want to wake up one morning and find Icori razing White Rock. But you shouldn’t be burdened with this.” Almost chagrined, he took my hand and kissed it. “Thank you for the dance. I hope we can talk again before my trip.”

  I stared after him as he walked away and Mister Cambridge scurried over. Unlike our last meeting, I believed that this time, Warren really did want to see me again.

  * * *

  “I saw that kiss,” Mira said later, as we rode home to Wisteria Hollow. “Things must be going well.”

  She sat beside me in the coach wearing crimson silk. I’d seen her dancing a couple of times tonight, but I’d been too preoccupied with my own conquests to think much about hers. I didn’t get how she wasn’t being flooded with offers. She was smart, beautiful, and kind. Being Sirminican shouldn’t matter, especially with such a shortage of women. One would almost have to purposely dissuade suitors in her situation.

  “We’ll see. I definitely made headway.” I settled back into the seat, suddenly aware of my sore back and feet. “But what about you? Why don’t you have more than that elderly man pursuing you? Suitors should be lining up for you.”

  “They’re all in your line,” she teased. “But seriously—don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  I put an arm around her, still overjoyed just to be near her again. “It’s hard not to. I never know what you’re going to do. Just please don’t go tramping off to some gold claim on the fringes of society like Adelaide.”

  “You’re telling me that?” Mira dissolved into laughter. “Isn’t that your whole goal with Warren?”

  “He manages the gold claims,” I corrected. “There’s a difference. And he lives in a real house, not a tent or shed or whatever it is Cedric has.”

  “Yes, but—never mind.” Mira rested her head on my shoulder. “I’m just so glad you’re back and safe.”

  * * *

  Our party had run late; most everyone else was going to bed when we reached the house. I was eager to sleep as well but had to stop by Mistress Culpepper’s office first to direct her attention to a tear in my cloak that had happened when an inebriated gentleman stepped on it. As I was returning through the foyer, I spotted a man in a familiar uniform preparing to leave.

  “Lieutenant Harper? I didn’t expect to see you here. Is everything okay?”

  He glanced back from the door and smiled at me. “Oh, Miss Wright. It’s nice to see you again. And all’s well. I was just, ah . . .” His eyes lingered on the staircase a moment. “Just in the area and thought I’d stop by.”

  I tilted my head to better study him. He almost looked like he was blushing. “Were you . . . you weren’t here to see Damaris, were you?”

  Yes, he was definitely blushing. “I like to check in on everyone. You, for example. How are things? You’ve been out tonight?”

  I wavered a moment and then let him get away with his change in subject, largely because of where it might lead. “Yes—every night. It’s nonstop. And you know, I just heard the most puzzling things. Is there another group of Icori north of Kerniall? The Kernady?”

  Lieutenant Harper’s expression instantly sharpened. “Kernighy. Why?”

  “Someone was telling me about them tonight, that they’re conspiring with Icori in South Joyce for a joint attack.”

  “There’ve been a lot of raids in South Joyce, yes, though I’m suspicious they might be fabricated by the Lorandians too.” His earlier fluster was completely gone now as he turned over my words. “I hadn’t heard anything about a plan with the Kernighy. Who told you this?”

  “Warren Doyle. He’s anxious about Hadisen being caught up on the outskirts. He said his friend Mister Eubanks knows more.”

  Harper’s eyes knit in thought. “Eubanks . . . I don’t know the name, but I don’t know a lot of people here. If he’s in Doyle’s circle, he’s probably easy to find. I could talk to him . . . but the Micnimara sisters seemed sincere in wanting peace.”

  “They’re one group,” I pointed out. “And we know . . . well, the group that raided the fishing camp wasn’t Lorandian. Maybe some of the stories are true.”

  I could see my dismay reflected in him. “I don’t want to believe it either, but I’ll look into it. Thank you for telling me, Miss Wright. It’s kind of amazing you can still keep track of political tensions while having your head in all of this.” He gestured around us.

  “I can’t help it,” I said. “I keep track of everything.”

  Not long after my encounter with the lieutenant, I encountered Warren at a party on another day—one he couldn’t avoid, since it was a going-away celebration. He was surrounded in well-wishers and all sorts of important colonial citizens who’d turned out, and as I made small talk with other suitors, I mulled over how to politely interject myself amidst his admirers. But when he noticed me, he promptly separated himself from the throng and headed in my direction.

  “I was hoping you’d be here,” he said, eyes eager.

  I hadn’t expected such a promising reception, but I ran with it. “I figured as much, Mister Doyle. That endless flattery must get so boring. Do you want me to send you off on an errand or two?”

  The grin he gave me was filled with genuine delight, and it lit up his perfect features. It was easy to admire his striking appearance, but it didn’t stir the same warmth within me that Jago’s multicolored eyes and crooked smile did.

  “You can send me off on more than that,” Warren said. “Is it true you talked to Lieutenant Harper for me?”

  I took a moment to respond, uncertain of where this was headed. “Well, I ran into him this week, and the Icori came up while we were talking, that’s all.”

  Warren shot me a knowing look. “That’s all, huh? You can play coy as much as you like, but your ‘casual’ conversation with him got the message through that I was hoping for. Harper convinced the garrison here to dispatch troops south to investigate the stirrings there, and he’s going to
send some of his own men up near the northern Icori to keep watch there.”

  The unabashed admiration reassured me I’d done nothing wrong, but the news still startled me. Those were big actions, and I wasn’t sure enough about the Icori’s involvement to feel comfortable with the military moving in. Hiding my shock, I said, “I’m used to making men jump when I talk, but I never expected to send armies on the move.”

  “All in a day’s work for you, I imagine,” he said with a laugh.

  “Certainly. It might actually be the one thing I’ve done that the Heirs approve of. Maybe it’ll buy the lieutenant some goodwill with them too.”

  “Didn’t he have it before? Most people say he’s pretty charismatic.”

  “He is, but charisma doesn’t always get you far with the Heirs. And they weren’t happy he didn’t take action against the Icori sooner. He also made a few thinly veiled threats about calling their practices into question with the Crown.”

  Now Warren wore the shock. “Did he? That’s pretty serious. The whole point of the colonial charters is to let each one set up its own laws and ways, without Osfrid’s interference. Have you heard about that new Westhaven Colony? Where people can practice any twisted religion? If that’s free of oversight, surely Grashond should be.”

  “I’m a little biased,” I admitted, “seeing as the Heirs tried to starve me and wanted to cut my hair.”

  “Your . . . what? Really? Maybe some oversight is warranted. Your hair is divine, you know. But is that something they run into a lot? Friction with the Crown?”

  “Sometimes,” I said. The delight of having my hair called divine was a little unsettled by the intense tone of the question. “I mean, they’re not openly antagonistic. Osfrid is there to take care of us, after all.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, relaxing a little. “But sometimes it’s in a heavy-handed way. Remember my infrastructure problems? Much of that is because the Crown’s taxes sweep away half of our gold income! And then I’m left to figure out how to build roads and schools with their leavings.”