Sometimes, at the right time of day, they can catch a glimpse of each other across the sky. Nothing more.
I couldn’t sleep. I could hardly eat. I moved around in a glorious haze, high on the thrill of what had happened between us, even though that high was dampened by the knowledge it wouldn’t—that it couldn’t—happen again.
At least he never told me it was a mistake. I always remembered that cautionary tale Tamsin had told us, about the girl she knew in Osfro who’d given up a lot more than kisses to a man who’d promised her everything, only to later tell her it had been a “misunderstanding.”
But Cedric never spoke of regrets or any other humiliating excuses. In some ways, that made it worse. It meant that he didn’t think it was a mistake. And I didn’t either. Neither of us could deny, however, that it complicated things.
So, really, we found it best to speak as little as possible to each other—not because of any animosity but because we simply didn’t trust ourselves. One day, however, communication was unavoidable. Several of us were about to go to a party, and he pulled me aside while the others were distracted. We stood several inches apart, and I counted every single one of them.
“I’ve found someone for you,” he told me, casting a quick look back at the doorway. “A good man—I could tell when I spoke to him. And then I verified it with some sources who know his servants. You can always tell a lot about someone by their servants.” Cedric hesitated. “And he’s very . . . candid. Amusing. I thought . . . well, I thought you’d like that too.”
Awkwardness joined the electric attraction between us. It was more than a little weird to have the man I so desperately wanted finding a suitable husband for me.
“Thank you for that,” I said, not sure what else to say.
“He’s out of town right now, but I’ve arranged for you to meet at the end of the week. There’s just one problem . . .”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Cedric, there are a lot of problems.”
“Don’t I know it. But he’s . . . well, he’s a lawyer. Still getting established. His house in town is small. Nice—but small. And he has only two servants.”
“I see.” A lawyer, while a respectable position here in the colonies, would not provide the luxury that, say, a plantation owner or shipping magnate would. Certainly not what a governor might offer. Two servants meant I’d most likely be helping with some of the household tasks.
“You’d always be provided for,” said Cedric quickly. “You’d be comfortable—still part of some social events. Not the top-tier ones . . . but some. And I’ve heard he’s good. He’ll most likely advance, maybe even move into a government position over time. It would be an outstanding match for many of the girls here.”
“But not necessarily the diamond.”
“No,” he agreed. “And he was uncertain you’d even want him—or that he could afford you. He could just afford your minimum bride price if he borrows, but there’s no promise of surety money. I convinced him you’d be worth it.”
I felt an ache in my chest. “Of course you did. You can sell salvation to a priest.”
He winced. “Adelaide, I know it’s not what you’d want—”
“No,” I interrupted. “It’s perfect. I’d rather live humbly with a man I can respect—maybe even like—than be pampered by someone who holds a sword over my head.”
“You will like him—” The words caught in Cedric’s throat.
I nearly reached for him but drew back before something happened I might not be able to control. I clenched my hand into a fist at my side. From the other room, I heard someone calling my name. Cedric and I stood together for a heartbeat, saying a million silent things, and then turned to join the others.
Mistress Culpepper clucked in disapproval when she saw me. “Adelaide, where is your jewelry? You’ve been forgetful all week—highly inappropriate for a girl of your rank.”
“Sorry, Mistress Culpepper.” My memory was so filled with details of a forbidden night, I supposed it had little room for much more.