The Glittering Court
Page 61

“It’s been a very busy time,” I said.
She smiled, her lips thin and tight like a snake’s. “Yes, I’m sure. But a pleasant time, no doubt. Warren can’t stop talking about how much he’s enjoyed your company. I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”
“He’s every girl’s dream.”
“Indeed. And yet, he remains unwed. Not even promised. You can imagine how distressing this is to me, especially with his departure for Hadisen coming so soon.” She sighed dramatically. “I’d feel so much better if everything was settled. I hate loose ends, don’t you? I hear Silas Garrett does as well. His partner is en route to Cape Triumph. Should be here any day.”
I kept a frozen smile on my face as I scrutinized her. Was she bluffing? Hard to say. “I’m sure it’ll be a great relief to them to figure things out once and for all.”
“And I’m sure it’ll be a great relief to you to no longer worry about what they do or do not figure out.” When I didn’t answer, her sickeningly sweet expression dissolved. “Stop delaying. You can do no better. You’d be in no danger of returning to Osfrid. Do this, and make everyone’s life easier—because I assure you, dear, I can make yours much more difficult.”
Warren came up to us just then. “Mother, I didn’t expect you of all people to steal Adelaide away.”
Viola’s smile turned beatific. “Well, we didn’t want to bore you with details . . . you know, the sorts of details that really only matter to women when nuptials are involved.”
He looked between us both incredulously. “Nuptials . . . you don’t mean . . .”
“I think our dear Adelaide has stopped teasing us at last,” said Viola.
“Is this true?” Warren caught hold of my hands. “You’ve accepted? We should announce it right now! It’s the perfect night.”
That anxious tightness in my chest returned, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “No—no. No announcements tonight. I mean, your mother and I have been speaking informally, but nothing can go forward . . .” I trailed off, staring across the room to where I could see Cedric speaking impassionedly to Nicholas. Nicholas was beaming, so I hoped that was promising news. “Nothing can go forward until all the details are drawn up with the Thorns. The marriage price, contracts . . . it wouldn’t be proper to announce before the rest is official. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”
Viola’s eyes narrowed, and Warren looked a little crestfallen but not too terribly put out. Meanwhile, my thoughts were racing. What would this do for me? How much time would it buy? No doubt the Doyles would be knocking on our door tomorrow to settle the deal. Could I put it off perhaps another day? Maybe even two? Cedric and Nicholas had become lost among the revelers, so I had no idea how that plan was developing. What had I just unofficially agreed to?
“Come,” said Warren. “At the very least, let’s have a celebratory dance—even if it’s only the two of us celebrating.”
There was no escape for me here. No allies. Only a sea of masked dancers, chattering and laughing about springtime and the renewal of life. I felt like darkness was closing in over me.
“Of course,” I said stiffly. “I’d love to.”
We danced for most of the rest of the night. A couple of bold suitors took a turn, but Warren moved in such a confident, almost proprietary way that most men simply steered clear of us. When Aiana told me our group was leaving, I barely even heard his words of farewell and promise to stop by tomorrow. I gave a polite nod and then rushed out to join the others. The night was fair and warm, and I needed air to think clearly. Before I could scarcely draw breath, I was led into a coach and then taken straight home to Wisteria Hollow.
I threw open the window when I reached my bedroom and sat there gulping in deep breaths, trying to steady myself. It wasn’t enough. That trapped feeling I’d had at the ball wouldn’t leave me. I needed to be out of this room, out of this house—out of this life. I felt like I had back in Osfro, locked in a glittering cage that so many admired, little knowing it was suffocating me. Not caring what trouble I got in, I left the room still in my gala clothes, pausing only then to realize Mira should have joined me. All the other girls were back in their rooms. I kept moving. Mira was out making her own choices, whatever they might be. I couldn’t fault her for that.
I headed down the hall to the small closet that led to the back staircase. I took it up to the attic level, nearly tripping over my long skirts in my haste. When I reached the landing, I flung open the window and was fully ready to climb down when a voice behind me said my name. I spun around and cringed when a masked figure stepped forward. Half a second later, just as he removed the mask, I realized it was Cedric.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “I was hoping to sneak into your room and talk, when I saw you go through this door.”
“I’m getting out. I have to think . . . I can’t think here. I can’t breathe here. I have to get out for a while. Somewhere. Anywhere but here.” I started to lift my foot up onto the window seat, and he grabbed hold of my arm, shutting the window behind me.
“Calm down. You can’t climb down that damned trellis in those shoes.” He urged me down to the window seat. “Sit, and tell me what’s wrong.”
I turned to him in amazement. “What’s wrong? How can you ask what’s wrong? Everything is wrong! I just more or less agreed to marry Warren Doyle tonight!”
“More or less?”
I found myself rambling, scarcely drawing breath. “His mother—Viola—she forced my hand. I couldn’t say no. All I could do was delay. Told them I would but that nothing was official until it had been settled here. Paperwork and all that. I don’t know what it bought me. Maybe a couple of days? But you know they’ll be vicious; they aren’t going to—”
“Okay, okay,” said Cedric, lacing his fingers through mine. “It’s okay. Nothing’s settled yet. They don’t have you, not yet. And you don’t need to stall a couple of days. You only need to stall until tomorrow morning.”
His words jolted me out of my near-hysterical state. “What do you mean?”
“Nicholas Adelton is willing—you must know that already after talking to him. The trick was making it legal, but I found a magistrate who’ll marry you tomorrow morning in a private ceremony. Most, knowing your involvement with the Glittering Court, wouldn’t have done it. He doesn’t care so long as you’re eighteen and a free citizen of Osfrid. I’ll draw up all the paperwork tonight, log the payment, and you’ll be married in the morning.”
I was dumbfounded. “In the morning.”
He squeezed my hands. “Yes. It’s going to create a lot of upset . . . to put it mildly. My father and Uncle Charles. The Doyles—especially if they’re clinging to this soft promise you made them. But we’ll have the law on our side. We’ll even have the Glittering Court’s technicalities on our side. No matter how much the others complain, they won’t be able to do anything about it.”
I had a feeling that “complaining” would be putting it mildly. “You’ll be lucky if your father lets you stay on and collect any commissions. Whether it’s enough for Westhaven will be irrelevant.”