“I don’t even know if I remember how to lace one of those up,” I said, laughing. “I don’t need it. I just need you.”
He leaned forward and kissed my neck, his arms tightening around my waist. “Careful,” I said. “We’re not married yet.”
Back at the claim, things were about what I’d expected. The river had flooded, overturning the sluices. They were still intact, at least, and easy to set back up. The shanty had been completely flattened. Most of Cedric’s belongings had been soaked, except for what was in his trunk. The rickety old stove had also survived. It seemed to be impervious.
Everything else was put on hold as we worked to get the shanty put back together. I wasn’t very good at that sort of thing, but, as it turned out, neither was Cedric. Now I understood why it had taken him three days to get the shack in the shape it had been. By evening, we’d done as many repairs as we could with what we had. He’d have to replace the bed and a few other items, but at least he sort of had a roof again.
I looked up at the darkened sky. “It’s past when we usually go back. I hope the Marshalls don’t come looking for me.”
“We’ll tell them we got caught up in the repairs. And we have bigger things now. Look.” Cedric pointed toward the trail that led to his property, and I saw Robert the magistrate riding toward us. He waved a hand in greeting.
A tremor of nervousness ran through me. “I can’t believe this is really going to happen.”
Cedric slipped an arm around me. “You can still change your mind. And you might want to—I’d hoped to do an Alanzan rite, if that’s okay. He could do a civil service if you wanted.”
I had only the briefest flash of that old fear, of dark rituals around a fire. Then those thoughts were banished. “The means don’t matter. As long as I get to pledge myself to you, I’ll be happy.”
It was a little surreal when Robert dismounted and donned a robe of black and white, so very different from the glittering vestments worn by the priests of Uros. Equally strange was the thought of an outdoor wedding. It seemed so casual compared to the formal processions and long services performed in the great cathedrals of Uros.
For the briefest of moments, I was taken away from this nighttime wilderness and remembered what it was like to sit between my parents in the pews of the King’s Crest Cathedral, the wood hard and golden from years of use. Enormous candelabras. Rainbows of stained glass covering the walls. We’d gone to dozens of noble weddings in my childhood, and I’d see my mother scrutinizing every detail of each bride’s attire, from her slippers to the enormous train trailing several feet behind her. And I could always tell my mother was mentally planning my wedding, deciding what would look best on me. Velvet or silk for the gown? Beadwork or embroidery on the train?
That long-ago idea rose up in me that at any moment my parents were going to walk through the door. I found myself looking toward the trailhead, like they might suddenly appear there. But my parents weren’t here. Neither was Grandmama. I wasn’t even wearing a dress.
“Adelaide?”
Cedric drew my attention back to him. One eyebrow was raised in question. No doubt he was thinking I’d changed my mind. Looking at him, at that beloved face, eased the weight of the ghosts that had settled on me. They weren’t gone. They never would be. But they were part of the past, and I couldn’t change that. It was the future I looked to now. The future I had chosen. The future I saw in Cedric’s eyes.
We held hands as Robert recited the words of the Alanzan ceremony. It was sweet and beautiful, speaking of how the joining of two people was part of the natural order of things. It made our union seem greater than us . . . like we now shared a part of some powerful, heavenly secret. Above us, a full moon shone down, and I remembered Mira saying that was a fortuitous omen for Alanzan weddings.
When Robert had finished reciting his words, it was time for us to recite ours. But first, he placed a circlet of bishop’s lace around our clasped hands. We tightened our hold as the frilly white flowers encircled our wrists. Then, I learned the full wording of the vows Cedric had once mentioned:
I will take your hand and lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon. I will build a life with you upon this green earth. I will walk by your side for so long as the sun continues to rise.
The ending kiss was the same as the ceremonies of Uros, and we savored it, clinging to each other as though afraid this would all slip away when we released each other. Also the same was the signing of various legal papers. It seemed odd to be doing something so bureaucratic in this wild setting, but it meant we were bound both in the eyes of the law and whatever gods were looking down upon us. With that realization, a new lightness suddenly filled me. I was free of anyone else’s claim upon me. And Cedric and I were together—truly together—as we’d been meant to be since that first day we met.
He drew me to him once Robert had wished us well and gone his way, promising to keep the documents safe. “How do you feel?” Cedric asked.
“Happier than I ever imagined I’d be at my wedding,” I said. “Happier than I ever imagined I’d be in my life. Also dirtier . . . but that doesn’t bother me as much as I expected.”
He brushed his lips over mine. “Well, it’s a good thing I know where there’s a luxury bathhouse. Although it’s probably going to be freezing.”
I grabbed his hand and immediately began leading him toward the shaded pond. “Then I’ll keep you warm,” I said.
He was right—the water was a lot colder than that day we’d bathed in the heat of the afternoon. And it was a lot harder to see by moonlight. But neither of us looked away this time. And neither of us held back. We helped each other wash, but I don’t know how good a job we really did. There was too much kissing. Too much holding. Too much everything.
I felt no chill in the water or when we left it and lay down on his coat in the grass. I felt nothing but heat, like we were both flames merging into something brighter and more powerful. And in what followed, I had that sense again that we were more than just us. We were part of the earth, part of the heavens. I understood why Alanziel and Deanziel had fallen from grace in order to be together. I would have defied Uros a thousand times over to be with Cedric.
Afterward, entwined with him on the grass, I didn’t want to go. It didn’t seem right to leave him on our wedding night. It didn’t seem right to leave him ever.
“Just a little longer,” he said. A warm breeze danced over us, but I still shivered. He pulled me closer. “Just a little longer, and then things will be normal.”
I rested my head on his chest and laughed. “Things have never been normal between us. And I hope they never are.”
And so, with great reluctance on both our parts, we put our clothes back on. Poor Lizzie probably thought she’d had the night off but doggedly took us down the trail. I sank into Cedric as we rode, dizzy and warm with this new connection between us.
At the cabin, we found Mistress Marshall waiting up for us. She sat at the table with a cup of tea but couldn’t fight a yawn as we entered. “There you are. Andrew wanted to come get you, but I told him you’d be along.”
“There was a lot of damage from the storm,” I said. It wasn’t an outright lie. “I’m sorry I missed the lessons.”
She yawned again. “It’s no concern. The children had plenty of cleanup work to do here. But your young man might as well stay over. No point in going back and turning right around in the morning. Just go upstairs and push the boys out of the way in the bed.”
“I will,” said Cedric. “Thank you.”
She headed toward her bedroom, and I asked, “Is the water still hot? I’d like to make some chamomile.”
She gestured at the kettle on the smoldering hearth. “Help yourself.”
Cedric and I walked upstairs together and then lingered on the landing that separated the boys’ and girls’ rooms.
“Wel
l, how about that,” I whispered. “We get to spend our wedding night together after all.” Through a crack in the door to the boys’ room, we could hear loud snoring.
“Exactly as I imagined,” Cedric said.
We kissed as much as we dared with me holding a hot cup of water and the knowledge anyone might stumble upon us. I went off to the girls’ room floating, heady with everything that had taken place this night. I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on a plain nightgown. Before getting under the covers with the other girls, I sat on the room’s one stool and finished my tea. I hadn’t added chamomile to it, however. Instead, I’d mixed in the cinnamon thorn leaves that Mistress Marshall had given me on our journey.
Chapter 27
And so, unbeknownst to anyone else, a new pattern emerged for us in the next week. The entire world had changed for me.
Each morning Cedric would dutifully ride to the Marshall place and bring me back to help with the claim. We didn’t get to work right away, though. We’d fall into the bed—or, well, the straw mattress that passed as one—and linger there as long as we dared. At least the straw was new, having been replaced after the storm. Getting up and starting our day took some effort, but the knowledge that we were that much closer to the life we wanted spurred us on. Equally hard was leaving him at the end of the day, but we did that too. I’d teach my lessons, sleep, and begin it all anew.
“I got you something,” Cedric told me one morning.
“More than a gourmet meal?”
That too was something else that had emerged. Cedric would always get out of bed first and make me breakfast. The old stove’s options were limited, but he could pull off bacon and simple biscuits reasonably well. He’d serve it to me in bed, teasing that he had to wait on me because he knew that I secretly missed my old noble life and might leave him for it.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that sarcasm. And yes, something more.”
I sat up cross-legged on the mattress. The only thing I’d bothered putting on so far was my plain white blouse, which was looking a lot less white than when I’d come to Hadisen. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
He came over and handed me my morning cup of cinnamon thorn tea, something else he’d taken upon himself to make, and a small metallic object. I looked closer and saw it was a necklace. A narrow linked chain held an oval-shaped pendant of thin glass with a flower pressed in the middle. I’d seen this pressed-flower style before; they were trendy in Adoria right now. I held it up the light and realized what the flower was.
“It’s bishop’s lace,” I said in delight. “Just like the ones from our wedding.”
“It is one from our wedding. Since you can’t wear a ring yet, I saved it so you’d have some kind of token.”
“That was resourceful of you.” I put the chain around my neck and ran my hands over the glass. “I forgot all about those flowers after . . . well, everything else that happened that night.”
He touched my cheek. “Well, I can be pretty distracting. It’s a wonder you can remember your name anymore. Any of them.”
“Now, now, don’t be so humble,” I said, elbowing him. “But thank you. I hope you didn’t spend too much on it.”
“Don’t worry, it’s brass. I’ll do better on the ring.”
He leaned down to kiss me, and then the sound of a horse outside made him jerk back. Without speaking, we both jumped up from the bed. Cedric tucked his shirt in while I hastily pulled on my split skirt and boots. I’d just seated myself at the tiny table with my tea when a knock sounded at the door. Cedric opened it casually, putting on a pleasantly surprised smile when he saw Elias’s sour face outside.
“What an unexpected delight,” Cedric lied.
Elias peered inside. “Hard at work, I see.”
“You’re just in time for breakfast.” I gestured to the bacon before me. “Always a good start to the day. Would you like some?”
Elias stepped inside, studying the shabby room with disdain. He leaned toward my food and sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “Of course not. I’m here on business.”
“Now, now, Elias. Don’t be rude,” said a familiar voice. Warren appeared in the doorway. “May I come in?”
“Certainly,” Cedric said with a wave. “Welcome to my home.”
Warren’s pleasant smile never left his face as he came in and looked around. I’d grown used to the shabbiness, but Warren no doubt thought I’d made a terrible choice. “How quaint,” was all he said.
Cedric had left the door open, and I could see Elias’s usual henchmen out there, along with a few other unknown men milling about. “Is this for the lode?” I asked.
Throughout the week, Cedric and I had dutifully worked the pans and sluices but had stayed away from the outcropping. Warren and Elias had urged us to wait until the proper men and tools were there, and we’d obeyed, despite our growing impatience. It had been hard, knowing that Cedric could have easily gone up there and, within a week of hacking, gotten what we needed for our immediate debts.
“What else would it be for?” Elias snapped. “Now, if it isn’t an inconvenience to your meal, we’d like to get started.”
He turned for the door, and Cedric and I exchanged looks behind his back. What else could we do? We both wanted this, and if Elias’s attitude was the price we had to pay, so be it.
“I’m sorry,” said Warren in a low voice, once Elias was back outside. “I know he’s . . . abrasive at times. But he’s good at his job, and he’s loyal.”
Outside, we found more climbing gear and several small crates. One of the men stepped forward, introducing himself as Argus Lane. He was an explosives expert and showed us how the crates were filled with small containers. “These work on a delay,” he explained. “There are two components. On their own, they’re perfectly stable. When mixed in great enough quantities with each other, they trigger an explosive reaction. Men’ll go up there and set them, then hurry down before the reaction occurs.”
“It sounds dangerous,” I said.
Argus smiled at me. “Not if they’re done correctly. Once the components are attached and we’re ready, you just pull out a pin that triggers the top one to gradually fill into the bottom. It’s designed to be slow enough for a getaway.”
“Argus knows what he’s doing,” Warren said, patting the other man on the back. “He mined in Kelardia before coming to Adoria, and he’s already overseen the excavation of several lodes here.”
Two of the men began strapping on harnesses and ropes, and Cedric offered to go with them. “You stay on the ground,” said Elias. “We need skilled climbers who can get out in time. You can help when we’re ready to dig it out—and then you can fall at your leisure.”
We’d mentioned Cedric’s fall while at Warren’s, and Elias had blamed it on Cedric’s inexperience, rather than faulty equipment. Anger flared up in me, and I started to speak, but Cedric laid a calming hand on my arm. “We have bigger battles to fight,” he murmured.
“Elias,” said Warren in a warning voice.
Elias eyed Cedric for several moments, seeming undecided about something. At last, he said reluctantly, “If you want to help, you can fasten the second load of explosive components together. Just fasten them. Don’t take the pins out. We don’t need these going off.”
The components were clearly marked, one blue and one red, and Argus demonstrated how to intricately twist the two cases so they clicked into place, one on top of the other. The pin that stopped them from mixing was fixed in tightly between them. “Hard to get out—but still, be careful. Go slow.”
“I’ll help,” I said, starting to kneel with Cedric in the grass.
“In Uros’s name, no,” groaned Elias. “I just said we don’t need these going off. This is men’s work, Miss Bailey. Not sewing and mending.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I’m aware. And I’ve been doing ‘men’s wor
k’ for weeks now.”
“She’s actually better at it than sewing and mending,” remarked Cedric, deadpan.
Elias turned to Warren beseechingly. “Sir, I beg you.”
“Elias, she is a very capable woman, and you’d do well to recognize that,” said Warren sternly. He turned to me. “But, in fairness, I know when too many hands are involved in that kind of detailed work, it actually can get more complicated. Would you mind terribly if instead I took you up on your earlier hospitality? I thought I smelled tea back there, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Elias’s smug smile nearly drove me to refuse. I’d served them willingly last time, but now this felt like proof that I could do only “women’s work.” But I kept the polite façade and went back to the shanty, grateful that on this trip, at least, I didn’t have to hide Alanzan artifacts. I’d used up the last of my cinnamon thorn tea this morning and would have to endure the humiliation of asking Mistress Marshall for more. Not that I would’ve ever served that to Warren anyway. I instead used some decent black that Cedric had splurged on during a recent trip to town.
By the time it was steeped and ready to go, I found all sorts of progress outside. Warren’s men were almost at the top of the outcropping. Cedric was just about finished with his task when Elias unceremoniously set down an enormous pile of rope, as well as a couple more explosives with the components already joined. “Since you’re so eager to help,” said Elias, “this needs untangling.” His tone was as demeaning as ever. I was about to hurry over to help Cedric, but Warren beckoned me over, excitement on his face. He pointed up.
“We could mine what’s at the top with picks, but the bottom would be too inaccessible because of the column’s narrowness. Once they’ve assessed what’s there, they’ll blow off the outer rock on top and then mine what’s exposed. They’ll keep blowing it off section by section, working their way down until we get everything out. And then . . .” Warren gestured to the foothills beyond. “Then we go after that.”