“Father—”
“No.” Jasper held a warning finger up to Cedric. “I don’t want to hear another word. You’ve already ruined this night by throwing her together with that lawyer! Do you think he can pay her minimum? He’s certainly not going to bid more if others are interested. I told you before, I will not let you ruin this.” Jasper fixed his hard gaze on me. “Now. Go.”
Cedric started to protest, but I waved it away. I didn’t want him in any more trouble. I gave Jasper a small curtsey. “Of course, Mister Thorn.”
Across the room, Warren and Viola were indeed making their exit. “Adelaide,” said Warren. “What a pity we couldn’t talk more. I wanted to tell you about some developments with the gold fields in Hadisen.”
“How fascinating,” I said, conscious of Jasper watching me. “Perhaps we could do it another time. I would so love to hear more.”
“Oh?” asked Viola archly. “I thought you were more interested in the law.”
I smiled sweetly. “Oh, Mistress Doyle. You know how these things are. They have us make the rounds—meet new people. It’s just a formality.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “It’d be a shame for you to be singling anyone out this soon.”
I nodded, even though it really wasn’t early in the season anymore, especially with so many girls having made contracts already. “Indeed. I’m just trying to be courteous.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Well then, perhaps you will soon be motivated to show Warren the courtesy of a private visit. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were putting on airs or behaving above your rank.”
I swallowed. “Certainly not.”
The party didn’t run as late as many of our others, but when morning came around, most of us were exhausted. It had all been wrapped in glitter and decorum, but these last few weeks had been grueling. As Nicholas Adelton had said, it was a tough job, no matter the surface appearance.
Some of the engaged girls still attended parties; others had opted out and now busily planned their weddings. The Glittering Court had no involvement in the wedding once the paperwork and payments were settled. Each girl was allowed to keep one dress, which she usually was married in. The extent of the rest of the wedding depended on the prospective husband. Some threw grandiose affairs. Some were too wiped out financially to afford much more than a magistrate’s fees.
Mistress Culpepper maintained a strict schedule and required all of us, engaged or not, to eat breakfast at exactly the same time each day. I didn’t mind the early wakeup, if only because breakfast was a brief reprieve from our social whirl. The Thorns, able to eat at their leisure, strolled in near the end of our meal, as was typical. Mistress Culpepper quickly found them chairs, seating Cedric next to me. I didn’t dare look at him, but the proximity made our legs touch under the table. At first, I kept my leg tense, but then I let it relax against his. I felt him do the same. For the remainder of the meal, I had no idea what I ate or said. My entire world focused on that touch.
One of the men who guarded the door called out that we had a guest. Mistress Culpepper hurried out of the dining room to investigate, and none of us reacted with much interest. Servants and messengers came and went at all times. Men with more serious intentions were politely told to come back later if they didn’t have an appointment.
So, it was a surprise when a pale Mistress Culpepper returned to us with a tall man following her. He wore a cheap, ill-fitting suit in plain worsted wool, which had to be uncomfortable with the recent spring turn our weather had taken. Gray streaked his thinning hair, and hard lines were etched into his face. Clearly, this was no enterprising suitor. Everyone around the table looked puzzled—everyone except Mira, oddly enough. She straightened up in her chair, eyes sharp. I couldn’t entirely decipher her expression. Shocked? Calculating? Maybe a little of both.
Charles rose from the table, straightening his jacket. He was as clueless as the rest of us, but he knew there had to be a reason Mistress Culpepper had admitted a guest at this hour. “May I help you, sir?”
The stranger gave a curt nod. “My name is Silas Garrett. I’m with the McGraw Agency.”
If anyone had thought this would be a boring morning, those notions were quickly shut down. The McGraw Agency was a group based out of Osfro who investigated all sorts of matters for those who could pay well enough. Technically, they were an independent organization, but we all knew they had royal authority to enforce the law. Their agents were notoriously ruthless and determined in their missions, going to great lengths—covert or overt—to achieve their goals. They investigated everything from infidelity among minor nobles to espionage for the king. There had been rumors of them being active in the New World, but no one knew for what, or who had employed them.
Jasper strolled up beside his brother. “My goodness. We rarely entertain gentlemen of such standing. I don’t suppose you’re looking for a wife?”
Silas Garrett didn’t crack a smile. “No, but I’m here looking for a woman.”
I don’t know how I knew then, but suddenly, I just did. My whole body stiffened, and I felt Cedric’s hand clasp mine under the table. I didn’t dare look at him, but I understood the message: Stay calm.
“I’m here on undisclosed business of my own, but I have a colleague up in Archerwood who was hired last summer to investigate the possibility that a runaway noblewoman had fled here from Osfrid,” Silas explained. “He’s had little luck—not surprising since Adoria’s such a big place, and he had no real clues about which colony she might have gone to.”