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.