“Don’t be so sure,” he said darkly. “These kinds of things can follow you anywhere.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? They haul me back to Grandmama? I’d rather that than you on the Osfro gallows!”
“You don’t think they’d hang me for kidnapping a peeress of the realm?” he asked, leaning toward me.
“No. I’d make sure you were innocent of any involvement. I’d take the full blame—but it’s not going to happen. Even if someone follows us to Adoria, I’ll be married before they can lay claim to me. And that,” I added proudly, “is the whole point of this. These scores are just the beginning. Wait until I’m there. I’ll dazzle them all. There’ll be a bidding war. I’ll have men eating out of my hand.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he grumbled.
“Don’t make fun of me,” I returned. “Because of what I’ve done, you’ll get the biggest commission of the season. You can even have some of my surety money. Maybe it won’t cover your whole stake in Westhaven, but it’ll certainly make things easier if the painting scheme falls through.”
He looked me over and declared, “Nothing involving you has ever been easy.”
I balled my fists at my sides. “The words you’re looking for are ‘Thank you, Adelaide, for going to all this trouble to help me out.’”
“The risk is too great.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
And as I spoke, I realized he wasn’t talking about the risk to himself. He wasn’t really concerned about being implicated in my disappearance. It was exposing me as a fraud and taking me away that he wanted to prevent.
“Why shouldn’t I?” I said. “After what you did for me. You saved me, Cedric. I was drowning back there in Osfro. Of course I should do this. I’ll do more, if that’s what it takes to keep you alive in spite of yourself.”
He’d been regarding me very intently as I spoke, as though he couldn’t quite believe my words. At that last bit, his face broke into a smile, finally easing the tension. “In spite of myself?”
“Well, you’re the one who chose to complicate your life with heresy.”
“You don’t choose it. It chooses you.”
“If you say so,” I said. I kept my tone light and dismissive, but inside, I was relieved to no longer be fighting with him. “How did it choose you anyway? Don’t take this the wrong way . . . but you don’t really seem like the type who’d think too much about godly affairs.”
He beckoned me toward the house, and I fell in step with him. “A lot of things bothered me about the world, ever since childhood. My parents are married, but they might as well not be. They’ve almost always lived apart, and we were all supposed to pretend that was normal. Emotional reactions weren’t allowed about that or, well, anything. It was all duty and keeping up appearances, just like the traditional churches teach. Then I learned how the six wayward angels aren’t evil—they just govern emotion and instinct, something the rigid priests of Uros fear. I learned it was okay to embrace that emotional side of me—to accept my true nature. That it was okay to let my passions run wild.”
The idea of Cedric and passions running wild was enough to make me momentarily lose track of his ardent explanation.
“And the rest of the Alanzan worship just made sense too,” he continued. “Spirituality without boundaries. All voices heard. Reverence for the natural world. We don’t need to attend lavish services paid for with prayer fees and massive tithes . . . while beggars and others starve outside the cathedrals. It’s not fair for one group to have so much wealth and another so little.”
“I’ve seen your wardrobe choices. You’re no ascetic. And here you are, ironically, doing business with men who are massively wealthy in the New World.”
“But there’s a difference between building wealth through honest business and building it by taking it from those who look to you for hope and spiritual guidance. Don’t you see, Adelaide, the orthodox priests are preaching good will toward all men but actually hoarding—”
“No.” I held up my hand. “Stop now. I can see where you’re going with this. I’ll keep your secrets, but do not try to convert me to your pagan ways.”
He laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But it’s nice to know you draw the line somewhere.”
The house grew closer and closer, and the momentary lightness faded. “I really am sorry if I made things more complicated,” I said softly.
“This was already complicated. Just be careful . . . no one’s safe until you’ve got some wealthy Adorian’s ring on your finger.”
“It’ll be weighted with a diamond,” I told him, earning a return of the smile.
Inside, I was relieved to see that most of the other girls had gone on to their rooms or other tasks, freeing me from a deluge of questions. Or so I thought.
When I got to my room, I found Tamsin and Mira. It was clear they’d been waiting for my return. Tamsin leapt to her feet.
“What have you done?” she cried, echoing Cedric.
“I’m, uh, not sure what you mean.”
“The hell you don’t!” It was a lapse into her former dialect that would’ve scandalized Mistress Masterson. “Has this all been some kind of joke? Coast along and then swoop in at the end to crush everyone else?”
I remembered Cedric’s accusations when I first came here—that I’d treated impersonating Ada as a joke too. Was that how my actions would always be perceived by people? Would I never be taken seriously?
“How did you do that?” continued Tamsin. “How did you score perfectly on everything?”
“I learned a lot of it when I worked in my lady’s house. I was around nobility all the time, and I guess I picked up their ways. You know that.”
Tamsin wasn’t buying it. “Oh yeah? Where were those ways in the last nine months? You’ve botched things continuously—but not always the same things! You run hot and cold, perfect at some things and then failing at the most basic ones. What kind of game are you playing?”
“It’s no game,” I said. “My nerves just got the best of me. Things finally came together during the retakes.”
“Impossible,” she stated. “I don’t understand how or why you’ve been doing this, but I know something’s going on. And if you think you can just ruin my life and—”
“Oh, come on,” I interrupted, switching from defense to offense. “Your life is far from ruined.”
Fury filled her features. “That’s not true. I had it. I was in the top three, and then you came along and pulled that out from under me. You knew how it important it was to me but still went ahead and destroyed everything I’ve worked for.”
I threw up my hands. “Tamsin, enough! I’ve gone along with your theatrics for nine months, but this is going too far. Exactly what in your life has been destroyed? You can converse about current politics, eat a seven-course meal, and play the piano! Maybe you’ll miss out on a few parties, but you’re still going to marry some rich, prestigious man in the New World. You’ve come a long way from being a laundress’s daughter, and if you were my friend, you’d be happy at how far I’ve come too.”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “I can’t tell how far you’ve come. I’ve lived with you all these months but don’t know anything about you. The only thing I’m sure of is that you’ve been lying to us all, and this ‘triumph’ of yours just proves it!”
There was a jumble of emotions in my chest. Anger. Sadness. Frustration. I hated the lies and subterfuge. I wanted to tell Tamsin and Mira about everything. My title. Lionel. Ada. Cedric. Westhaven. Those secrets burned within me, wanting—no, needing—to get out. But I couldn’t let them. The consequences were too great, and so I had to bury them back within me and let that terrible animosity hang in the air.
“Tamsin,” said Mira, speaking up at last. “That’s not fair. What’s wrong with her wanting to do well? It’s what we all wan
t. And she told you, nerves always got the best of her—”
“That’s the biggest lie of all. She’s been fearless from the first day, facing down Clara and traipsing out in the night for holly. The jokes, the carefree air . . . it’s all been a cover.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “Nerves aren’t your problem. I refuse to be sucked into your web of lies, and I will never have anything to do with you again.”
That drew even diplomatic Mira to her feet. “Isn’t that a little extreme? You’re being irrational.”
“And you’re acting like a child,” I added. The stress of today’s events was catching up with me. Between the shocking announcement, Cedric, and now this, I was having a hard time remaining calm.
Tamsin turned on Mira, ignoring me. “I’m refusing to let her manipulate me like she has everyone else. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do the same.”
“Tamsin,” pleaded Mira. “Please stop and talk this out.”
“No.” Tamsin moved toward the door and paused to fix me with a stony glare. “I’m never speaking to you again.”
My control snapped. “Should be easy enough—seeing as we’ll be hanging out in different social circles in Adoria.”
She took it like a physical blow but held good to her threat. She didn’t say a word to me, and the only response I got was the slamming of the door as my first real friend stormed away from me.
Chapter 10
I honestly didn’t believe her. After months of wild emotions and dramatics, I figured Tamsin would calm down and make amends. But she never did.
The next couple of weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Fittings continued at an accelerated pace as the seamstresses worked around the clock to finish up everyone’s wardrobes. It was a daunting task for our house alone, and I knew it had to be just as busy in the three other manors. Tamsin’s green fabric arrived, and I caught sight of her at one of her fittings. She looked stunning in it, and I told her so, but she acted as though I hadn’t spoken.
My clothes were equally beautiful. I’d loved the purple attire, but this new set transcended even that. Some of the dresses, particularly the daytime ones, were of purest white, made of delicate fabrics that rivaled those I’d worn in my former life. The evening and ball gowns were radiant confections of velvet and satin, done in gleaming white and glittering silver, embellished with jewels and metallic lace.
The Adorian styles took a little getting used to. Although the long skirts were full and layered with petticoats like ours, there was no extra bustle to pad the hips. I didn’t mind that so much; it made them infinitely more maneuverable. Adorian sleeves were close fitting to the elbow, with a spill of lace or other embellishment at the cuffs, rather than a chemise revealed through slashing up the arms. It was the bodices, however, that gave me the most pause. They were significantly lower cut than Osfridian fashion, with a scoop neckline that could reveal a lot with a particularly ambitious corset.
“It’s how they do it there,” Miss Garrison said when I’d remarked upon it. “It’s a New World, so they claim—a bolder world. They’re trying not to be held back by our ‘stuffy’ ways here.” Her tone suggested she didn’t entirely approve, even if creating such things was part of her job. “Well, at least it’s done where you’re going in Cape Triumph. Up in the northern colonies? Where those crazy Heirs of Uros live? I hear that’s a whole other story.”
I nodded politely, more concerned with my cleavage than a conservative group of Uros devotees. Honestly, with the threat hanging over Cedric for his Alanzan faith, I kind of felt that my life would be a lot simpler avoiding religion of any kind.
If not for the fight with Tamsin, all this preparation would’ve been an enjoyable time. “She’ll come around,” Mira told me one day. “I know she will.” Mira had still been playing diplomat, talking insistently with both of us in the hopes of mending the rift.
“Will she?” I asked. “Has she given any sign she will?”
Mira made a face. “No. But it can’t last—not even for her. Maybe once we’re there, and she’s got her choice of suitors, she’ll let go of things.”
“Maybe,” I agreed. My unexpected advancement was still a subject of much speculation in the house, though no one came anywhere near to guessing the truth. I knew Mira was among those who wondered, but she was friend enough not to push me on it. It seemed she carried her own secrets and could respect those of others.
The final blow in the feud with Tamsin came on the day we set sail. We’d traveled to the port city of Culver, in western Osfrid, where Jasper’s two commissioned ships waited. It was a cold, blustery day, and as we huddled near the docks, I overheard some of the sailors muttering about a winter crossing. Mistress Masterson had also mentioned it to Jasper, and he’d shrugged it off, saying we were close enough to spring to be free of storms. If he got the jump on other traders coming over in the spring, he could get a higher profit for the rest of the goods he was transporting.
Mistress Masterson and the other manor mistresses had come with us, though not all would be going to Adoria. “You’ll be in the capable hands of Mistress Culpepper when you arrive,” Mistress Masterson told us. The cold sea wind whipped around us, and I pulled my cloak tighter. “She runs things on the Adorian side and will look after you.”
Despite her confident words, I could see concern in Mistress Masterson’s features. She’d taught us with a prim—and often strict—countenance, but the gentleness in her features now showed her underlying affection.
“Listen to what you’re told there and remember what you’ve learned here,” advised the Swan Ridge mistress.
“And don’t talk to the sailors,” said another mistress. “Keep to yourselves, and always go in groups if you leave your quarters.”
She didn’t have to tell us that. The sailors loading our belongings and Jasper’s cargo were a burly, rough-looking lot. I avoided eye contact as they moved past us with their loads. My understanding was that they’d been very strongly warned against socializing with us, but one could never be too careful. Jasper’s eye was on them now as he directed which ships would carry which goods. Between us and his trade, he was certain to make a good profit from this trip, and I thought it a shame he couldn’t use that money to help his son. But from what I’d observed, Cedric was right to guess his father wouldn’t endorse alternative religious beliefs.
Cedric himself showed up near boarding time, running typically late. By then, the goods were on board, and it was our turn. Jasper read our names from a list, indicating which ship we’d take. Our manor was traveling on the Good Hope, so it was a shock when I heard Tamsin’s name read for the Gray Gull.
Even Mira was surprised. Like me, I don’t think she’d actually thought Tamsin would take our fight to this extreme. “Tamsin . . .” she said in disbelief, watching as our friend walked past us.
But Tamsin didn’t look back, and her only pause was to hand Mistress Masterson a stack of letters and say, “Thank you for taking care of these.” Then she continued on. My heart sank as she boarded the other ship. I’d chosen Cedric’s interests over hers, and sometimes, particularly when I had those middle-of-the-night wakings, I’d question if I’d made the right choice.
“She’ll come around,” reiterated Mira as we walked up the dock. She didn’t sound as confident as usual. “She has to. This journey will give her a lot of time to think.”
Our cabin on the Good Hope was small, as to be expected, with six narrow bunk beds. Mira and I were rooming with three other Blue Spring girls, as well as one named Martha from Swan Ridge Manor. She was the one Tamsin had managed a trade with. Our rooms were near those of the other Glittering Court girls, as well as that of Miss Bradley, the mistress from Dunford Manor. She met with us in the small common room we’d be using for our meals, reiterating much of what we’d heard on the docks about where we could go and what we could do. The options were limited, and two months in s
uch cramped quarters seemed like a very long time.
When we finally set sail, we all went above deck to observe. My heart hammered as I watched the lines brought in and sailors at work. I’d done many things as the Countess of Rothford, but never a journey of this magnitude. I’d been on a ship to Lorandy once as a child but remembered little of it. That trip took only a day across the narrow channel that separated Osfrid from its continental neighbor. Beside us, the Gray Gull was also casting off, and I could make out Tamsin’s bright hair among the girls gathered there.
“Did you come from Sirminica by ship?” I asked Mira, suddenly realizing I’d never asked her before. Her eyes were on Osfrid’s retreating shore, and I wondered if she regretted leaving the country she’d taken refuge in.
“Some of it. It’s expensive to do the whole journey by ship, and most of us fleeing the war couldn’t afford it. The group I was with traveled overland and then took a ship from Belsia.” She smiled, struck by a memory. “If you think our cabin’s small, you should’ve seen that Belsian ship. No one even had a bed—we were in the cargo hold. Fortunately, that trip was only a few days.”
I squeezed her arm, realizing I’d never fully comprehended how much she’d gone through. “It must have been awful.”
She shrugged. “It was what it was. It’s the past.”
“And you’re moving on to better things now,” Cedric said, strolling up beside us. His hands were in the pockets of the scarlet greatcoat, reminding me of that night I’d found him in the Alanzan ritual. In this clothing, he looked like a proper merchant or scholar, but the wind wreaking havoc on his hair gave him an untamed edge, reminding me of when he’d spoken of letting his passions run wild. I shivered.
“I hope so,” said Mira. “What kind of room do you have?”
“I suppose you’re staying in a luxury stateroom,” I teased.
“That would be my father. I’m in a cabin like yours, bunking with other passengers.” He nodded toward a group of men on the other side of the deck, their clothing and manners displaying a wide variety of backgrounds.
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