I felt no chill in the water or when we left it and lay down on his coat in the grass. I felt nothing but heat, like we were both flames merging into something brighter and more powerful. And in what followed, I had that sense again that we were more than just us. We were part of the earth, part of the heavens. I understood why Alanziel and Deanziel had fallen from grace in order to be together. I would have defied Uros a thousand times over to be with Cedric.
Afterward, entwined with him on the grass, I didn’t want to go. It didn’t seem right to leave him on our wedding night. It didn’t seem right to leave him ever.
“Just a little longer,” he said. A warm breeze danced over us, but I still shivered. He pulled me closer. “Just a little longer, and then things will be normal.”
I rested my head on his chest and laughed. “Things have never been normal between us. And I hope they never are.”
And so, with great reluctance on both our parts, we put our clothes back on. Poor Lizzie probably thought she’d had the night off but doggedly took us down the trail. I sank into Cedric as we rode, dizzy and warm with this new connection between us.
At the cabin, we found Mistress Marshall waiting up for us. She sat at the table with a cup of tea but couldn’t fight a yawn as we entered. “There you are. Andrew wanted to come get you, but I told him you’d be along.”
“There was a lot of damage from the storm,” I said. It wasn’t an outright lie. “I’m sorry I missed the lessons.”
She yawned again. “It’s no concern. The children had plenty of cleanup work to do here. But your young man might as well stay over. No point in going back and turning right around in the morning. Just go upstairs and push the boys out of the way in the bed.”
“I will,” said Cedric. “Thank you.”
She headed toward her bedroom, and I asked, “Is the water still hot? I’d like to make some chamomile.”
She gestured at the kettle on the smoldering hearth. “Help yourself.”
Cedric and I walked upstairs together and then lingered on the landing that separated the boys’ and girls’ rooms.
“Well, how about that,” I whispered. “We get to spend our wedding night together after all.” Through a crack in the door to the boys’ room, we could hear loud snoring.
“Exactly as I imagined,” Cedric said.
We kissed as much as we dared with me holding a hot cup of water and the knowledge anyone might stumble upon us. I went off to the girls’ room floating, heady with everything that had taken place this night. I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on a plain nightgown. Before getting under the covers with the other girls, I sat on the room’s one stool and finished my tea. I hadn’t added chamomile to it, however. Instead, I’d mixed in the cinnamon thorn leaves that Mistress Marshall had given me on our journey.
Chapter 27
And so, unbeknownst to anyone else, a new pattern emerged for us in the next week. The entire world had changed for me.
Each morning Cedric would dutifully ride to the Marshall place and bring me back to help with the claim. We didn’t get to work right away, though. We’d fall into the bed—or, well, the straw mattress that passed as one—and linger there as long as we dared. At least the straw was new, having been replaced after the storm. Getting up and starting our day took some effort, but the knowledge that we were that much closer to the life we wanted spurred us on. Equally hard was leaving him at the end of the day, but we did that too. I’d teach my lessons, sleep, and begin it all anew.
“I got you something,” Cedric told me one morning.
“More than a gourmet meal?”
That too was something else that had emerged. Cedric would always get out of bed first and make me breakfast. The old stove’s options were limited, but he could pull off bacon and simple biscuits reasonably well. He’d serve it to me in bed, teasing that he had to wait on me because he knew that I secretly missed my old noble life and might leave him for it.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that sarcasm. And yes, something more.”
I sat up cross-legged on the mattress. The only thing I’d bothered putting on so far was my plain white blouse, which was looking a lot less white than when I’d come to Hadisen. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
He came over and handed me my morning cup of cinnamon thorn tea, something else he’d taken upon himself to make, and a small metallic object. I looked closer and saw it was a necklace. A narrow linked chain held an oval-shaped pendant of thin glass with a flower pressed in the middle. I’d seen this pressed-flower style before; they were trendy in Adoria right now. I held it up the light and realized what the flower was.
“It’s bishop’s lace,” I said in delight. “Just like the ones from our wedding.”
“It is one from our wedding. Since you can’t wear a ring yet, I saved it so you’d have some kind of token.”
“That was resourceful of you.” I put the chain around my neck and ran my hands over the glass. “I forgot all about those flowers after . . . well, everything else that happened that night.”
He touched my cheek. “Well, I can be pretty distracting. It’s a wonder you can remember your name anymore. Any of them.”
“Now, now, don’t be so humble,” I said, elbowing him. “But thank you. I hope you didn’t spend too much on it.”