The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)

Jasper didn’t answer either way. “There’s nothing you really need from me at this point—although I do need that dress back. I can get good money for that. And if this new venture works out, we might have the potential for even more. We’re working out logistics for more-specific long-distance matchmaking via correspondence and classified ads.”

While Jasper rambled on about the details, I went back upstairs to get the dress. It took a few minutes to assemble it all, as the various components—overdress, underdress, chemise, veil—had inexplicably ended up in wildly different parts of the room. Maybe I’d had more wine last night than I recalled. Or maybe I’d just been too preoccupied to care. Several glittering beads fell off the overdress when I smoothed it out, and I winced, hoping Jasper wouldn’t notice.

When I came back downstairs, I heard Jasper saying, “—expand this business more than we ever dreamed, and you could have had a share of it. Riches beyond belief. But no. You had to marry a blue-blooded con artist and go prance off into the wilderness with some cult. I hope this new insanity works out for you.”

“Father, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Jasper scowled. “I’m serious. You’ve made some dangerous choices.”

“But I made them myself,” Cedric said. “And that’s what matters.”

I handed the dress over to Jasper. From the narrowing of his eyes, I think he immediately noticed the missing beads. “Is that wine on the hem?” he asked.

“Thank you for letting me borrow it,” I said sweetly. “Dad.”

Cedric and I stood on the porch when he left, watching until he was out of sight down the lane. When we were alone, he slipped his arm around me. “Ready for the next adventure?”

“Always.”

The morning flew by as we readied ourselves and saw our wilderness supplies and few worldly possessions carted off to the Westhaven baggage train. Much like the Hadisen send-off, there was a big crowd assembling at the edge of town where the wagons and horses were lining up for departure. There’d be family and friends to say goodbye, as well as the idle and curious. When we were finally ready to go, Cedric and I cast a fond glance back at the cottage and went to join the masses.

It was as crowded as I’d expected—maybe more so. Edwin Harrison caught sight of us immediately and asked for Cedric to consult on something, leaving me alone to people-watch near the edge of the crowd.

“It must be exhausting being married.” Tamsin strolled up to me. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

I grinned and gave her a quick hug. “I slept. Some.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll make up for it with all the sleep you’ll get trekking through the wilderness. And whatever shack you have in Westhaven will probably be very restful too.”

I thought back to the dilapidated shanty on the gold claim. It felt like a lifetime ago. “We don’t even have one yet. We’ll have to build it—or hire someone to, in light of Cedric’s carpentry skills. Besides, you’re one to talk—after living in an Icori roundhouse.”

She smiled at the joke but made no comment on it. In the weeks that had passed since Warren’s downfall, we’d learned a lot more about her time among both the Grashond Heirs and the Icori. She’d taken a long time to open up, and I knew there were still things she wasn’t telling us. I hoped they’d come out in time when she was ready. Aiana had cornered Jasper, telling them that there was no way Tamsin could be expected to marry anytime soon after such traumatic events. Aiana had won her case, and Tamsin’s contract had been extended.

She turned away and stared vacantly at the sea of people. “There’s something—well, that is—there’s something I need to talk to you about. Something I have to ask you.”

Her sober expression was startling. Frightening even, seeing as I’d thought the worst of her troubles were over. I squeezed her hand. “Of course.”

“It might be too late . . . I should have brought it up sooner . . . but I didn’t want to burden you with everything else. But I know you and Cedric made a lot of money from selling the Hadisen claim, and so I thought . . . that is . . .”

“Tamsin.” I’d never heard her ramble in all our time together. “You can tell me anything. Go ahead and ask whatever you need to.”

So, she did.

I fell silent for a long time afterward, trying to wrap my mind around what I’d just heard. The longer I didn’t speak, the more troubled she became.

“You think I’m a terrible person, don’t you?”

“What? Of course not.” I drew her to me again. I remembered when, long ago, she’d told me I had no idea how much she had on the line. And she’d been right. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. And of course I’ll help.”

Her brown eyes shone with tears. “It’s a lot to ask. And I understand if Cedric doesn’t want you to spend the money. It’s his right to—”