The Glittering Court
Page 42

“Her starting price would, due to her rank. That number can easily go up if enough gentlemen bid and want to catch her attention. Between you and me . . .” Cedric leaned toward the other man conspiratorially. “Well, there’s been a lot of interest this week. Like you, many gentleman are partial to blondes.”
I’d only heard Cedric pitch Rosamunde as one of many other choices, but the idea that she was in demand was alluring to Mister Collins.
“That’s a lot of money,” he said uncertainly.
“That’s an investment,” corrected Cedric. I couldn’t help but smile. He was so charming, so self-assured. He probably could have sold Mister Collins on buying ten wives. “Tell me, when the governor hosts a formal dinner and has a new position to fill, what will his wife—a baron’s daughter, I hear—report back after conversing with Mister Stone’s daughter? And should one of His Majesty’s royal ambassadors visit, scrutinizing how well the New World is keeping pace with the old one, what will he say when he meets a farmer’s daughter? Will she be able to discuss arts and music? Be well informed on the intricacies of Denham politics? You yourself are of middle-class upbringing, I understand. You’ve certainly surpassed that, but I imagine a young woman skilled in aristocratic ways could be very useful to you as you navigate political waters.”
Cedric’s body language reminded me of some predatory animal, braced and ready for his prey to show a sign of weakness so that he could move in for the attack. Mister Collins fell silent once more. At last, he said, “May I see her?”
“Of course—at our opening ball, with everyone else. I’ll make sure you’re on our invitation list when we announce it.”
And that was how he left most of the men hanging, tantalizing them with the idea of a girl who was perfect for them but in demand by so many others. These gentlemen left consumed by the idea, soon imagining far more about us than Cedric could ever describe.
We’d been there about a week and a half when Cedric finally found a chance to pull me aside for a private conversation. “The painting and supplies are in the large cellar. Do you think you can find a chance to sneak in and finish?” The painting had been nearly complete when the storm hit, needing only a few last touches.
“If I can escape Mistress Culpepper. She watches everything we do—much more than Mistress Masterson ever did.”
He nodded. “I’ll find a way to get her out one afternoon. Tell her we need some emergency cloth or supplies for some girl or another. It’s not entirely hard to believe—the opening ball is at the end of this week.”
“Is it?” I asked. I’d known this lull couldn’t last forever but was still startled.
“The announcement’s being made tomorrow. This place’ll be chaos as Mistress Culpepper gets you all ready. It should be easy enough for you to slip away. There’ll be last-minute wardrobe problems and more men coming by to make another attempt at a private meeting before everyone gets a shot at you all.”
I gave him a sidelong look. “Why don’t you ever pitch me?”
“What?”
“I’ve watched most of your meetings. You rotate through all the girls, making sure each one gets highlighted to some suitor or another. But never me.”
“I’m sure I have,” he said lightly. “You probably just missed those particular meetings.”
I found that unlikely. I’d watched almost all, and when I didn’t, there was always some girl more than willing to rehash every single detail of the conversation. Before I could protest, Mistress Culpepper came hurrying into the dining room.
“Mister Thorn, there’s a gentleman here to speak with you.” It was the first time I’d seen her look unsettled.
Cedric raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think we had any appointments this afternoon.”
“We don’t, but sir, it’s—it’s the governor’s son. Warren Doyle.”
That caught even Cedric off guard. “Well, then. I guess you’d better show him to the sitting room.” She hurried off, and he glanced at me. “And I suppose you’d better scurry off to your spy post.”
I flashed him a grin and left the room. As I went upstairs, I caught sight of Jasper nearly running into the house. Apparently, word of the governor’s son’s visit had reached him. He might normally have no problem letting Cedric handle meetings alone, but this was clearly one Jasper wanted to be at.
All the girls gathered on the walkway above, even Mira, who tended to skip these covert viewings. We craned our necks, hoping to get a glimpse of the suitor who had caused both Cedric and Jasper to take notice.
“Not bad,” murmured Clara. I had to agree. Warren Doyle was only a few years older than us—something of a relief, since many gray-haired gentlemen had graced our door. Even from this height, I could see a face with strong, handsome features and jet-black hair pulled back into the short fashionable tail popular on both sides of the Sunset Sea.
“Mister Doyle,” said Jasper, taking the newcomer’s hand. “It is an honor.”
“Call me Warren, please. We might as well drop formalities since I plan on being quite straightforward here. It’s how I am—and, well, I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m no good with small talk.”
Jasper exchanged the briefest of looks with his son and then returned his smile to Warren. “Of course. Please—sit down.”
Warren did, clasping his hands in his lap. A daytime visit would have allowed more casual attire, but he was dressed formally in a russet coat and a vest of gold brocade. He could have attended our ball right now.
“I’m here about one of your girls. The top one—the one who led your procession, in the gray dress.”
I tensed.
“Do you mean Adelaide?” asked Cedric uncertainly.
“Is that her name?” asked Warren, brightening. “She is the best one, right? Isn’t that how your ranking works? She had brown hair—well, a golden brown. Very lovely.”
Mira grinned beside me. “He got your hair right. That should make you happy.”
“‘Best’ is a subjective term,” said Jasper delicately. “All of our girls are—”
Warren smiled kindly. “You don’t need to use your usual tactics on me. You don’t need to try to sell them all to me. I’m already sold. I want her. I need her. You see, I’ve been given governorship of the new colony of Hadisen.”
Jasper beamed, but I knew how he must be calculating. “Congratulations. That’s an incredible accomplishment for a man of your age, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Thank you,” said Warren, nodding eagerly. “I’m very, very fortunate. And that’s why it’s imperative I have an exemplary wife. She will be the first lady of the colony. Even in its rough stages, all will look to her as an example. And once we’re truly established, she’ll be the one in charge of all social affairs in my household. I need someone who excels in all areas—someone intelligent, cultured, and worthy of admiration. I assume, as your top girl—”
“Our diamond,” corrected Jasper. “We call her our diamond.”
“Your diamond then. I assume she must have surpassed all the others in every test. If I am to succeed in this venture, I must have an incomparable lady.”