She kept good on her promise to not accept any offers until Warren’s return, but of course, she still entertained plenty of gentlemen while he was gone. That’s Tamsin—always keeping her options open. Since Warren came back, it seems as though her loyalty paid off. He was pretty smitten the last time I saw him, and excited to bring her back to show her around Hadisen.
And so, it seems as if both of you are going off to great adventures while I stay here. Only a few of us aren’t engaged yet, and I know I’ll have to choose soon. None of my suitors have really inspired a burning passion within me, so it may come down to simply accepting the one—the only one—who offers me the most respect and freedom. Surely that’s as good as love. I rather liked that lawyer you knew briefly, but he’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested in the Glittering Court right now.
Write when you can,
Mira
I reread the letter before folding it up. I missed Mira as much as she missed me, and it saddened me that she might be forced into something simply because she had no better options. But I couldn’t think too much about that—not with the perplexing information she presented about Tamsin. Warren had given no indication he’d settled on any girl, but Mira claimed he and Tamsin almost had a match, so much so that he wanted to bring her to Hadisen. What was the truth? The letter was dated only a few days ago and must have come with the mail on Warren’s ship last night. I supposed anything could have happened. Had they quarreled in so short a time? Had Tamsin decided she didn’t want to live on the frontier after all?
Cedric reappeared as I pondered all this. That excited, knowing look was on his face, which meant he had some brilliant plan in place. “Come on,” he said, steering me back to where Lizzie was tied up. “Let’s go back to the claim.”
I’d expected him to take me back to the Marshalls’ since part of the day was gone, but I had no objections to this change. I was curious about how his place had fared in the storm.
“What’s going on?” I asked, once we were on the trail heading away from the town. “Who was that man?”
“The man the Galvestons mentioned. The Alanzan magistrate.”
“Did you talk to him about marrying your heathen fiancée?”
“Yes, actually.” Again, I could tell Cedric was bursting with eagerness. “And he’s the one who’s going to perform our wedding.”
“When the contract’s taken care of?” I asked. “You’re planning ahead.”
“Not then. Now. Tonight.” Cedric hesitated. “I mean, if you want to get married.”
I craned my head back and tried to determine if he was serious. “How is that possible? We aren’t allowed to.”
“Only in Warren’s contract are we not allowed to. Legally, if a magistrate will do it, we can. Robert—that’s his name—will do it and keep it secret.”
“Okay . . .” His enthusiasm was contagious, but I still didn’t understand the entire plan. “If it’s secret, what’s the point? I mean, aside from the obvious joy of us being bound forever.”
“The point is that if Silas Garrett’s friend shows up and outs you, then Robert produces the documents that prove our marriage,” Cedric explained. “It’ll create a lot of hassle with Warren and his contract if we haven’t settled those financial matters yet, but your grandmother won’t have a claim on you anymore as a married woman.”
“And that ‘hassle’ with Warren is the reason we have to keep it secret in the meantime,” I realized. “It . . . it’s a backup plan.”
“Exactly. Assuming you’re okay with an impromptu marriage. Once this all works out, we can have another ceremony with our friends. If we find enough gold, Father might forgive us and let you wear one of your Glittering Court dresses.”
“I don’t even know if I remember how to lace one of those up,” I said, laughing. “I don’t need it. I just need you.”
He leaned forward and kissed my neck, his arms tightening around my waist. “Careful,” I said. “We’re not married yet.”
Back at the claim, things were about what I’d expected. The river had flooded, overturning the sluices. They were still intact, at least, and easy to set back up. The shanty had been completely flattened. Most of Cedric’s belongings had been soaked, except for what was in his trunk. The rickety old stove had also survived. It seemed to be impervious.
Everything else was put on hold as we worked to get the shanty put back together. I wasn’t very good at that sort of thing, but, as it turned out, neither was Cedric. Now I understood why it had taken him three days to get the shack in the shape it had been. By evening, we’d done as many repairs as we could with what we had. He’d have to replace the bed and a few other items, but at least he sort of had a roof again.
I looked up at the darkened sky. “It’s past when we usually go back. I hope the Marshalls don’t come looking for me.”
“We’ll tell them we got caught up in the repairs. And we have bigger things now. Look.” Cedric pointed toward the trail that led to his property, and I saw Robert the magistrate riding toward us. He waved a hand in greeting.