Walk away? Did she really think I could? Ada looked at my ancestry and wealth as if that was power, but really, a commoner had more freedom than me. Which was why, perhaps, I needed to become one.
“You’re the Countess of Rothford. Someone with a name like that can’t move among the nameless.”
“What would you do then? If you had the means?”
“If I wasn’t working here?” She paused to wipe her nose. “I’d go to my family in Hadaworth. I have cousins there. They have a nice dairy farm.”
“Hadaworth’s as far north as you can get,” I reminded her. “That’s not an easy journey either.”
“There’s no ocean!” she exclaimed. “It’s still in Osfrid. And there are no savages there.”
“You’d rather work on a dairy farm than marry an Adorian adventurer?” Admittedly, this played into my plans better than I’d expected. But it sounded so comical, I couldn’t help but ask, “How did you even end up being referred to this Glittering Court?”
“Lady Branson’s son John attends the university with him—Master Cedric. Lord John heard him talking about how he needed pretty girls for some task his father had set him. Lord John knew you were disbanding the household and asked his mother if there were any girls who needed a place to go. When she approached me . . . well, what could I do?”
I took her hand in an unusual show of informality between us. “You’ll go to Hadaworth. That’s what you’ll do.”
Ada gaped, and I led her up to my bedroom where other maids were sorting clothes. I sent them off to new tasks and then produced some topaz earrings from my jewelry box.
“Here,” I said, handing them over to Ada. “Sell them. More than enough to buy passage with a reputable group traveling to Hadaworth.” I’d expected her to have some greater lifelong dream, one I might not be able to afford. This was a bargain.
Her eyes widened. “My lady . . . I . . . I can’t. I can’t take these.”
“You can,” I insisted, my own heart racing. “I, uh, can’t bear the thought of you being miserable. I want you to be with your family and find happiness. You deserve it.” That wasn’t entirely a lie . . . but my true motivations were hardly so altruistic.
She clutched the earrings in her hands, and hope started to bloom on her face. “I—no. I can’t. That contract! That’s binding. They’ll find me and—”
“I’ll take care of it—no need to worry. I’ll get you out of it. I can do those kinds of things, you know. But to make sure it will all, um, work out, you need to leave now. Right away. It’s just after midday. Most of the traveling merchants will be finishing business and heading north soon. And then you need to disavow all knowledge of the Glittering Court. Never, ever tell anyone they approached you.”
Her eyes were huge. “I won’t, my lady. I won’t. Never a word. And I’ll go now—as soon as I pack.”
“No, don’t. I mean, don’t take too much. Pack lightly. You can’t look like you’re leaving for good. Act like you’re just going off on an errand.” I didn’t want anyone noting her departure, possibly stopping her and asking her questions.
She nodded at the wisdom of my words. “You’re right, my lady. Of course you are. Besides, with these, I can buy new clothes when I reach Hadaworth.”
Upon my advice, she gathered only a few small things: a change of clothes, a family locket, and a pack of Deanzan cards. She flushed, seeing my raised eyebrow at that last one.
“It’s just a lark, my lady. We read the cards for fun. People always have.”
“Until the Alanzans made them a key part of their religion,” I said. “The priests are burning them these days. Don’t get yourself arrested as a heretic.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t worship demons! Or trees!”
Everything else she left behind. The household was so busy getting ready for the move that no one paid us a second glance as we sneaked around about our tasks. I took her remaining possessions—which weren’t much, only a few items of clothing—back to my room and hid them while I covertly saw her off. She startled me with a quick, highly inappropriate hug, tears shining in her eyes.
“Thank you, my lady. Thank you. You’ve saved me from a terrible fate.”
And you may have done the same for me, I thought.
Upon my instructions, she walked casually out the front gate as though she were just going on a market errand. I don’t think the sentry on duty even noticed her leaving. She was invisible, something I couldn’t even comprehend . . . yet. As soon as she was gone, I returned to my painting in the garden, trying for all the world to look as though I were going about my usual attempts to pass the time while the rest of the household labored. Whenever I could work it into conversation with other servants, I mentioned casually that Ada had left for a new position and how wonderful it was that it had been arranged for her. Everyone knew someone had come asking about her before, but no one knew the details of that conversation. Many other servants had moved on already, so her departure was nothing new.
As evening wore on, word came that my grandmother and Lady Branson had been detained for dinner while out visiting a friend. That development couldn’t have suited me better, though I did have a moment of pause when I realized I might never see Grandmama again. We’d exchanged harsh words that morning, but that didn’t diminish my love for her . . . or hers for me. Everything she’d done in this mess with Lionel had been to benefit me, and there would be a huge fallout when it disintegrated.