The Glittering Court

  “You’re not dead,” I breathed.

  He choked on a laugh. “Nice to see you too, dear.”

  I wanted to make a joke to hide my true feelings. I didn’t want him to know how afraid I’d been these last few days, that I’d imagined terrible things happening to him, that I’d feared all these dreams we’d built would be lost. But as Cedric looked me over and his smile faded, I knew he could see it all in my eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  “Cedric, where have you been?” I tightened my hold on him and could see now that he was as dirty and worn as I was. “I’ve been so worried.”

  “I know, I know. I should’ve sent word, but there’s been so much to do. More than I expected. You’ll see soon enough.”

  “We just finished breakfast, but you’re welcome to some porridge,” Mistress Marshall said from behind me. I’d forgotten she was there. Her tone was friendly, but there was an edge to it Cedric and I both understood. We quickly sprang apart.

  The aforementioned porridge had been one of the blandest things I’d ever had. Cedric had always been picky at Blue Spring Manor and Wisteria Hollow, insisting his eggs be poached and his pastries warmed. I figured he’d turn down such a mundane meal, but to my surprise, he accepted and ate two bowls. When he finished, he asked the Marshalls if he could bring me to his claim.

  “I know she must have all sorts of things to do here, but I’d like to show her the land,” he said. “I’ll return her by dinnertime.”

  “Certainly,” said Mistress Marshall. “And then you can stay and eat with us.”

  Cedric looked immensely pleased by that.

  Another rainstorm had made for a cool morning, and I donned my suede pants and coat, along with the wide-brimmed hat. It was as much for practicality as to put on something clean. I tended to wear the same work dress each day, and the Marshalls took baths only on weekends.

  “Don’t you look like a proper frontier woman, ready to ride off and tame the wild,” Cedric said.

  “Makes sense, since I’m a better rider than you.” I walked up to Lizzie. “Are you sure she can carry two of us?”

  “You tell me, horsemistress.”

  I patted the old mare’s neck. “Sure she can. Just no hard gallops.”

  We’d been too fresh out of Cape Triumph to even think about riding a horse together on our initial journey. Here, on the edge of civilization, the rules were more relaxed. Customs were dictated by expediency, and if we’d travel faster by horseback, so be it. He helped me up to the front of Lizzie and then jumped up behind me, much more gracefully than other times I’d observed him while traveling.

  We followed a narrow, nearly overgrown trail through a wood of mixed trees. The morning soon warmed up, and I shrugged out of the coat. Our relationship might not be exactly forbidden anymore, but that didn’t change the electric connection between us. My body still buzzed with awareness of his, and as we made the two-hour journey, I realized I’d never had his arms around me for so long—aside from our nighttime getaways on the road to Hadisen.

  The land sloped upward rapidly, but Lizzie plodded on. The claim was perched on a foothill that had been given the fanciful name of Silver Dove Mountain. A wide river flowed through it, and the view was breathtaking, revealing other mountains as well as the fertile lands we’d just ridden out of. I was so transfixed by it that took me a moment to really take in the rest of the claim.

  “Wasn’t there supposed to be a house here?” I asked.

  “There,” he said, gesturing to a small rise of land.

  I followed him over and made out what I’d mistaken for a storage shed. It had a significant slant to it, and it was unclear to me if that was intentional or not. The outer planks were a mix of woods—some old and weathered, some new and yellow. The roof looked aged but sturdy, except for one corner that was covered by a tarp.

  Cedric followed my gaze to it. “I still have to work on that.”

  “Have you . . . have you been working on the rest of it?” I asked delicately. I didn’t want to offend him, but it was really hard to tell.

  “It’s why I was so late. When I got here, this thing was barely standing. I spent that first rainy night on the ground, huddled under the tarp. I’ve made trips into town for supplies and did a lot of the repairs myself. The prospector on the next claim over helped me with some too.” Cedric looked over the shack. “I didn’t want you to see it—or even this whole place—in such a state. There’s so much work to do. But I knew I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

  I found his hand and laced my fingers with his. “I’m glad you didn’t. And you can’t be ashamed of any of this, not if we’re going to share a life together.”

  He lifted my hand and studied it. The skin was cracked and raw from the lye. Dirt was everywhere, especially under my nails. There was a long cut I didn’t even remember getting. Releasing the hand, he sighed.

  “Hey, now. Don’t so sound so dejected,” I told him. “It’s nothing some moisturizer and a little soap—real soap, not that cursed stuff Mistress Marshall made—won’t fix. I’ll be back to my same old beautiful self in no time.”

  He turned me to face him. The afternoon sun lit him up, turning his dark auburn hair to fire. “You’re already your same old beautiful self. Maybe even more so than when I first met you. I think about that day a lot, you know. I remember every detail. I remember that dress you wore—blue satin with rosebuds on the sleeves. And every curl perfectly arranged. I’d never seen anything like you. Lady Witmore, Countess of Rothford.” He sighed again. “And now look what I’ve brought you to. If I hadn’t darkened your doorway that day, where would you be now? Certainly not in the middle of nowhere, scrubbing some farmwife’s house while desperately hoping your heretic husband can scrape together enough money to buy us both out of suffocating contracts. You’d have been married in silk, on the arm of someone whose bloodline matched yours. You’re still like nothing I’ve ever seen, and you’re the first thing I think of when I wake up each morning . . . but sometimes, well, I’m just not sure if I’ve improved your life or made it worse.”

  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 mea
nt 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.