The Glittering Court
Page 14
Tamsin lightly touched her cheek. “You have no idea what sunlight can do to freckles. But that doesn’t matter right now. What happened downstairs? They didn’t kick you out, did they?”
I sat down on the edge of the bed between theirs, the one that agitated freckles. “Not yet.” I nearly said that Mistress Masterson hadn’t chastised me at all but then thought better of it, lest I have to explain what I’d really been doing. “Just a, uh, stern talking-to.”
“Well, you’re lucky,” said Tamsin. “But this kind of changes everything. I’m not sure what to do about you now.”
It took me a moment to follow. “Are you chastising me too?”
“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know. But I’m not sure if being associated with two troublemakers is going to help me around here.”
Mira looked startled. “What did I do?”
“Nothing yet.” Tamsin almost seemed chagrined. “But you saw how it was down there after just five minutes. People like Clara aren’t going to let up on you.”
“So you want to be associated with someone like Clara?” I asked.
“Hell no. But I’ve got to plan my strategy here. I can’t fail.” There was the slightest tremor in her voice at that last part—vulnerability, more than arrogance. Mira caught it too.
“You won’t fail,” she said kindly. “Just keep up with everything. Cedric said as long as we score in a passing range, we’re guaranteed to go to Adoria.” Her use of his first name, with no honorific, wasn’t lost on me.
“I have to do more than just pass.” Tamsin glanced down at the folded paper in her hands and then looked up with renewed determination. Her other fist clenched beside her. “I have to be the best. The best in our manor. The best in all the other manors. And I have to do whatever it takes to make the best marriage in Adoria—the wealthiest man I can find, one who’ll do anything for me. If that means being cutthroat here? So be it.”
“Who needs cutthroat when you’ve got me? If you want to be on top, then I’m your best bet. I already know half of all this from being in a grand lady’s house. Stick with me, and you’re guaranteed to succeed. Stick with both of us,” I added, with a glance at Mira.
I still knew nothing about her, but that sense of connection remained. I didn’t know much about Tamsin either, aside from her willingness to become “cutthroat”—which didn’t exactly come as a surprise after our brief acquaintance. But Cedric’s words were weighing on me, about how important it was that I not screw up and give myself away. I was more likely to pull that off if I had backup.
Were these two the best backup I might have chosen? Unclear. But as my roommates for the next year, they were the best candidates.
“You’re probably not the only one thinking this place is cutthroat,” I continued. My persuasive skills hadn’t exactly been top-notch recently, but after winning Cedric to my side, I was starting to feel confident again. “So you know the others are going to be ruthless— especially if you are the best.”
“There’s no ‘if,’” said Tamsin.
“Right. Well, then, someone like Clara’s going to target you for sure. And you know she’ll surround herself in cronies too. She’ll have eyes and ears everywhere—you’d better have them too. Who knows if she’ll stoop to sabotage? And you might think I’m a troublemaker, but I’m also a troublemaker who knows the difference between sec, demi-sec, and doux wine.”
“Demi-what?” asked Tamsin.
I crossed my arms over my chest, triumphant. “Exactly.”
“So you’ve got the insider information. I’m obviously the leader.” Tamsin’s eyes fell on Mira. “What do you have to offer?”
When Mira simply met her gaze unblinkingly, I supplied, “Well, she apparently survived a war zone. I somehow doubt this is going to be harder.”
Tamsin looked as though she was trying to decide about that. Before the conversation could continue, a knock sounded at the door. Mistress Masterson entered with clothing slung over one arm. “Here are some day dresses for you to wear today. We can make adjustments later. Put them on, wash your faces, and be downstairs in fifteen minutes.” Her eyes fell on me. “And Adelaide, I expect there will be no more outbursts from you of such a . . . candid nature. The Thorns employ me to make you into exemplary young ladies. I don’t need that undermined within your first hour.”
“Yes, of course.” She looked at me expectantly, and I added, “Ma’am.” When that still didn’t lift her gaze, I tried “Uh, I’m sorry?” I had rarely had to apologize in my position and wasn’t entirely sure of the process.
Looking exasperated, Mistress Masterson draped the dresses and chemises over a chair. “Please just think before you speak next time.”
That I understood. It was advice my grandmother had been giving me for years.
When Mistress Masterson was gone, Tamsin pounced on the dresses and began examining each one. Mira, however, studied me. “I thought you said she already scolded you?”
I put on a wry smile. “I guess she wanted to make sure I got the message. Or embarrass me in front of you.”
A groan from Tamsin drew our attention elsewhere. “Damn it. This is too long.”
She was holding a cream-colored dress, scattered with green flowers, up to her. I got up and sifted through the rest of the clothes. “Wear this one. It’s shorter.”
Tamsin gave the russet calico a dismissive look. “That’s not my color. I’d think any sort of proper lady’s maid would know orange doesn’t go with red hair.”
“I know that wearing a dress that doesn’t fit you will look a lot worse. Sloppy, even.”
Tamsin wavered a moment and then snatched the dress from me, tossing back the green in return. It was too long for me too, and I handed it to Mira, the tallest of us. That left me with a gray-striped dress of lightweight wool. As the others began to undress, I backed up, suddenly feeling self-conscious. It was silly, I supposed, considering I’d had people dressing me my entire life. But that had been utilitarian. It was my servants’ job. Changing clothes now, with others around, was a reminder of the new lack of privacy I had. The room suddenly felt small, like it was closing in around me.
I turned my back to them and began working through all those buttons that had given me such trouble before. It was slightly easier than initially fastening them up, but the loops they went through were sewn under the edge of the fabric, requiring some dexterity. And good grief, why did there have to be so many of them? When I finally made it to the bottom of the dress, I glanced behind me and saw Tamsin and Mira staring in astonishment. Both were already in their new chemises and dresses.
“Our best bet, huh?” asked Tamsin.
“It’s harder than it looks,” I retorted. “A new style. One I’m not used to.” I turned away from them again and at least managed to wriggle out of it in a timelier manner than the unbuttoning. Ada’s chemise was of better quality than this new one, but I removed it too and put on the whole ensemble.
“Are these dresses torn?” asked Mira, studying one of her sleeves.
I sat down on the edge of the bed between theirs, the one that agitated freckles. “Not yet.” I nearly said that Mistress Masterson hadn’t chastised me at all but then thought better of it, lest I have to explain what I’d really been doing. “Just a, uh, stern talking-to.”
“Well, you’re lucky,” said Tamsin. “But this kind of changes everything. I’m not sure what to do about you now.”
It took me a moment to follow. “Are you chastising me too?”
“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know. But I’m not sure if being associated with two troublemakers is going to help me around here.”
Mira looked startled. “What did I do?”
“Nothing yet.” Tamsin almost seemed chagrined. “But you saw how it was down there after just five minutes. People like Clara aren’t going to let up on you.”
“So you want to be associated with someone like Clara?” I asked.
“Hell no. But I’ve got to plan my strategy here. I can’t fail.” There was the slightest tremor in her voice at that last part—vulnerability, more than arrogance. Mira caught it too.
“You won’t fail,” she said kindly. “Just keep up with everything. Cedric said as long as we score in a passing range, we’re guaranteed to go to Adoria.” Her use of his first name, with no honorific, wasn’t lost on me.
“I have to do more than just pass.” Tamsin glanced down at the folded paper in her hands and then looked up with renewed determination. Her other fist clenched beside her. “I have to be the best. The best in our manor. The best in all the other manors. And I have to do whatever it takes to make the best marriage in Adoria—the wealthiest man I can find, one who’ll do anything for me. If that means being cutthroat here? So be it.”
“Who needs cutthroat when you’ve got me? If you want to be on top, then I’m your best bet. I already know half of all this from being in a grand lady’s house. Stick with me, and you’re guaranteed to succeed. Stick with both of us,” I added, with a glance at Mira.
I still knew nothing about her, but that sense of connection remained. I didn’t know much about Tamsin either, aside from her willingness to become “cutthroat”—which didn’t exactly come as a surprise after our brief acquaintance. But Cedric’s words were weighing on me, about how important it was that I not screw up and give myself away. I was more likely to pull that off if I had backup.
Were these two the best backup I might have chosen? Unclear. But as my roommates for the next year, they were the best candidates.
“You’re probably not the only one thinking this place is cutthroat,” I continued. My persuasive skills hadn’t exactly been top-notch recently, but after winning Cedric to my side, I was starting to feel confident again. “So you know the others are going to be ruthless— especially if you are the best.”
“There’s no ‘if,’” said Tamsin.
“Right. Well, then, someone like Clara’s going to target you for sure. And you know she’ll surround herself in cronies too. She’ll have eyes and ears everywhere—you’d better have them too. Who knows if she’ll stoop to sabotage? And you might think I’m a troublemaker, but I’m also a troublemaker who knows the difference between sec, demi-sec, and doux wine.”
“Demi-what?” asked Tamsin.
I crossed my arms over my chest, triumphant. “Exactly.”
“So you’ve got the insider information. I’m obviously the leader.” Tamsin’s eyes fell on Mira. “What do you have to offer?”
When Mira simply met her gaze unblinkingly, I supplied, “Well, she apparently survived a war zone. I somehow doubt this is going to be harder.”
Tamsin looked as though she was trying to decide about that. Before the conversation could continue, a knock sounded at the door. Mistress Masterson entered with clothing slung over one arm. “Here are some day dresses for you to wear today. We can make adjustments later. Put them on, wash your faces, and be downstairs in fifteen minutes.” Her eyes fell on me. “And Adelaide, I expect there will be no more outbursts from you of such a . . . candid nature. The Thorns employ me to make you into exemplary young ladies. I don’t need that undermined within your first hour.”
“Yes, of course.” She looked at me expectantly, and I added, “Ma’am.” When that still didn’t lift her gaze, I tried “Uh, I’m sorry?” I had rarely had to apologize in my position and wasn’t entirely sure of the process.
Looking exasperated, Mistress Masterson draped the dresses and chemises over a chair. “Please just think before you speak next time.”
That I understood. It was advice my grandmother had been giving me for years.
When Mistress Masterson was gone, Tamsin pounced on the dresses and began examining each one. Mira, however, studied me. “I thought you said she already scolded you?”
I put on a wry smile. “I guess she wanted to make sure I got the message. Or embarrass me in front of you.”
A groan from Tamsin drew our attention elsewhere. “Damn it. This is too long.”
She was holding a cream-colored dress, scattered with green flowers, up to her. I got up and sifted through the rest of the clothes. “Wear this one. It’s shorter.”
Tamsin gave the russet calico a dismissive look. “That’s not my color. I’d think any sort of proper lady’s maid would know orange doesn’t go with red hair.”
“I know that wearing a dress that doesn’t fit you will look a lot worse. Sloppy, even.”
Tamsin wavered a moment and then snatched the dress from me, tossing back the green in return. It was too long for me too, and I handed it to Mira, the tallest of us. That left me with a gray-striped dress of lightweight wool. As the others began to undress, I backed up, suddenly feeling self-conscious. It was silly, I supposed, considering I’d had people dressing me my entire life. But that had been utilitarian. It was my servants’ job. Changing clothes now, with others around, was a reminder of the new lack of privacy I had. The room suddenly felt small, like it was closing in around me.
I turned my back to them and began working through all those buttons that had given me such trouble before. It was slightly easier than initially fastening them up, but the loops they went through were sewn under the edge of the fabric, requiring some dexterity. And good grief, why did there have to be so many of them? When I finally made it to the bottom of the dress, I glanced behind me and saw Tamsin and Mira staring in astonishment. Both were already in their new chemises and dresses.
“Our best bet, huh?” asked Tamsin.
“It’s harder than it looks,” I retorted. “A new style. One I’m not used to.” I turned away from them again and at least managed to wriggle out of it in a timelier manner than the unbuttoning. Ada’s chemise was of better quality than this new one, but I removed it too and put on the whole ensemble.
“Are these dresses torn?” asked Mira, studying one of her sleeves.
