“We’ll check her schedule and get back to you,” Cedric interrupted. “As you said, we’ll no doubt receive other invitations. And there are rules to be followed.”
Warren looked Cedric over. “You’re very big on rules, Mister Thorn. I admire your integrity.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Cedric said pointedly.
“Thank you for the invitation,” I said, offering Warren a smile in the hopes of relieving the tension. He smiled back, bowed, and then melted into the crowd.
I glared at Cedric. “It’s like you don’t even want a big commission.”
He thought about it a moment. “I do. But maybe not from him.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t think I like him.”
“You don’t even know him!”
“I know he’s arrogant and full of himself.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
“Adelaide.” He leaned toward me, dangerously and improperly close. “You saw how he was. How arrogant he acted.”
“To you. Because you were provoking him. I’m not saying that I want to run off with him here and now, but we certainly can’t cross him off yet. That’s my decision to make—not yours.” I glanced around and pitched my voice low. “We’re supposed to be working together on this! I can’t do my job here if you offend every suitor who comes my way.”
“Your job?”
“Yes,” I said. “I can read men. I know their romantic intentions better than you ever will.”
Cedric’s voice was snide. “Right. I’m sure you learned all about men’s ‘romantic intentions’ after years of desperately throwing yourself at them in stuffy ballrooms. How exactly did that work out for you, my lady?”
A flush filled my cheeks. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand the ways of the upper class. Between your common blood and pagan—”
“Is there room here?”
Sylvia strolled up to us with a weary smile. It was obvious she hadn’t heard our conversation, or she might have been more uneasy. Cedric instantly put a charming expression back on and lent her a hand. “Of course.”
When she was inside, he helped me up. As I was about to step in, he stopped me, holding my hand with his other arm around me. He leaned close to me so no one else would hear. That closeness threw me off, making me briefly forget everything but his eyes and lips.
“Adelaide, I’m not trying to—”
“What?” I demanded, my agitation returning. “What is it, exactly, that you’re trying to do?”
We were suspended like that for a moment, and then his face hardened. “Nothing. Like you said, I’ve only got common blood. I’m not trying to do anything.”
He lifted me inside and shut the door, telling the driver to go.
Chapter 15
My emotions were a storm within me when we got back to the house. I was fuming at Cedric, of course—and I had every right to, after the way he’d behaved. At the same time, I inexplicably felt like crying. Even in the tensest moments of our early times together, we’d never truly fought like that. Having left with that anger between us made my chest ache. As hurt and furious as I was, I couldn’t stand the thought of us at odds. It was confusing, and my own heart was a mess.
My rumination slammed to a halt when I found my bedroom empty. I’d assumed Mira had been ahead of me since she hadn’t been outside when I was talking to Cedric and Warren. Nothing to worry about, I thought. She must have been in one of the later carriages.
But as I prepared for sleep and the night wore on, there was still no sign of her. Everyone else was back, blearily making their way to bed. It left me with a dilemma. Should I tell Mistress Culpepper? What if something had happened to Mira? On the other hand, I knew Mira’s ways. It was entirely possible she’d sneaked off to explore the city after all. Reporting her absence would get her in trouble. Cedric would have been a neutral party to go to, but after our fight, I wasn’t willing to do that. Mira was tough, I told myself. She’d be okay.
And sure enough, when I woke up, she was in her bed.
“I was worried about you,” I told her. I didn’t ask her outright what had happened, but the expectant tone in my voice left no question that I was eager for more information.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pausing to stretch and yawn. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Thank you for not telling anyone.”
When she still didn’t offer any explanation, I asked, “Were you out exploring the city?”
She hesitated. “Yes. Foolish, I know.”
“Something could have happened to you! Promise me you won’t do it again. It’s not safe for a woman alone.”
“The world never is,” she muttered.
I waited for more, but it didn’t come. “You didn’t promise.”
“Because I can’t.”
“Mira—”
“Adelaide,” she interrupted. “You have to trust that I wouldn’t do anything—dangerous or otherwise—without a good reason. But . . . well, we all have our secrets. I know you do too, and I respect that.”