The Glittering Court
Page 63
Cedric’s jaw clenched. I hated seeing him humiliated, but Jasper’s point was valid. Cedric didn’t even have the funds to buy his stake yet, not until the painting deal went through—if it went through. And clearly, my commission was off the table.
“She still has time left on her contract,” replied Cedric. “I’ll earn the fee.” I was about to say Cedric had better things to spend his money on—hoping he’d pick up on the hint about Westhaven. But then he said something that sent me reeling: “I love her.”
A bright feeling blossomed within me. It was the first time the subject of love had ever come up between us, though I don’t think either of us had ever doubted it was there. Uncaring of Jasper’s disapproval, I found Cedric’s hand and clasped it. “I love him too.”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “This is all very touching, but unfortunately, we live in the real world—not some cheap copper romance novel.”
Charles cleared his throat, expression uncertain. “Perhaps . . . perhaps we could lend him the fee. He is family, after all.”
“No,” said Jasper swiftly. “No special treatment. He violated our policies, and he’ll live with those consequences. If others know he received a favor, it’ll only worsen things—confirm the idea that we’re taking liberties here. He’ll deal with this disaster the same way anyone else would have to.”
“We will deal with this,” I corrected.
A knock at the door stopped Jasper from rolling his eyes again. He nodded for Charles to open the door, and sighed. “This had better not be another one of those girls finding some excuse to get a peek in here. I’m sure they’re all gathered outside the door trying to listen.”
But it was no eavesdropping girl. Instead, it was Mistress Culpepper who stood there when Charles opened the door. “Forgive me,” she said, face contrite. “But Mister Doyle and his mother are here. I wasn’t sure if I should send them away or not.”
Jasper groaned and briefly covered his eyes with his hand. “And there’s another thing destroyed by this debacle. I told you this would spread.” He deliberated a moment and then gave a nod to Mistress Culpepper. “Yes. Bring them in, and let’s get their outrage over and done with. It’s no more than you two deserve.”
Warren and Viola soon entered. Both were dressed exceptionally formally for a morning call, the dark color of their clothing seeming to emphasize the gravity of the situation. I could tell immediately they knew what had happened. Jasper personally escorted Viola to a seat, and Charles hastily arranged the office chairs in a semicircle, as though this were some friendly social occasion in a parlor.
The exasperation Jasper had displayed before was wiped away. He was in performance mode and wouldn’t show any weakness to the Doyles. “Mistress Doyle,” he began. “It’s always such a delight to have you in our home. I swear, you grow lovelier each time—”
She held up a hand to silence him. “Oh, stop with your con man’s prattle. You know why we’re here.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “We demand justice for the appalling, deceitful way she—”
“Mother,” interrupted Warren. “That is not why we’re here. Although I’m sure you can all imagine our shock when a messenger showed up at our house this morning with the, uh, news.”
Jasper put on a look of perfect contrition. “And I’m sure you can imagine how truly sorry we are for any miscommunication that may have happened in our recent interactions.”
“‘Miscommunication?’” Viola’s eyes widened. “Miscommunication? That girl said she’d marry my son last night. Then we hear this morning that she went straight into your son’s bed. That doesn’t really seem like a laughable misunderstanding.”
“Again,” said Jasper, “we are truly sorry for the inconvenience this may have caused you. You have every reason to be upset.”
“Upset, certainly . . .” Warren grew hesitant as he glanced between Cedric and me. “But not necessarily surprised.”
Even Jasper faltered. “You knew?”
Warren gestured toward Cedric and me. “About this specifically? No, no, of course not. But I could always tell there was something holding her back. No matter my entreaties, no matter how faultless I thought my logic . . . well, none of it worked. And I kept thinking, ‘What good reason could she have for not accepting?’ Now I understand.”
“She’s a conniving little—”
“Mother,” warned Warren. His civility toward us incensed her, and honestly, I was surprised by his attitude as well. “Tell me, Mister Thorn. What’s going to happen now?”
Jasper was back in comfortable territory. “Well, the first thing that’s going to happen is that you will have top priority in socializing with any of our remaining girls. And of course, there’ll be a substantial discount—”
“No,” said Warren. “I mean to them.”
I could practically see the wheels spinning in Jasper’s head as he tried to figure out how he might best get out of this situation with his business and reputation intact.
“Well, Mister Doyle, we run a pristine establishment. Honor and virtue are values we hold very highly. You’ve no doubt heard some sordid exaggerations about what happened last night—when the truth is much blander, I’m afraid. My son and this young lady, of course, plan to marry.”
Cedric and I exchanged only the briefest of amused glances at Jasper suddenly signing on to that plan.
“How kind.” Ice filled Viola’s voice. “You’re giving your son a beautifully wrapped, glittering gift. An expensive one at that, considering what you were trying to charge the rest of us.”
“And he’ll be paying the same,” said Jasper. “There is no special treatment around here when it comes to our girls. No gifts. Before they’re married, he’ll pay the base fee that any other man would have.”
Viola regarded Cedric incredulously. “And pray tell, young man, where will you be getting such funds? Are your father’s wages that good?”
“Many things are still being worked out, Mistress Doyle,” Cedric replied.
Warren gave us an indulgent smile. “Well, perhaps I can help them work a little more easily.”
From the way Viola’s head whipped around to look at her son, it was clear this was an unplanned turn of events. No one in the room really knew what to expect, and I had no reason to believe anything altruistic was to come, despite the smile Warren gave me.
“Adelaide, you’ve heard me speak many times about the gold claims in Hadisen and how we don’t have enough men to work them. I personally own a number of them, and they’re simply lying around. What I’d like to propose is that Mister Thorn take on one of those claims and mine it for me.”
That stunned us all to silence. After almost a minute of processing, Jasper unsurprisingly spoke first. “You want my son—my son—to mine a gold claim for you? You know he was a university student, don’t you? Studying business? He’s never done real manual labor in his life. He doesn’t even like the outdoors.”
I wondered what Jasper would think if he knew the truth about his son’s spiritual practices.
“She still has time left on her contract,” replied Cedric. “I’ll earn the fee.” I was about to say Cedric had better things to spend his money on—hoping he’d pick up on the hint about Westhaven. But then he said something that sent me reeling: “I love her.”
A bright feeling blossomed within me. It was the first time the subject of love had ever come up between us, though I don’t think either of us had ever doubted it was there. Uncaring of Jasper’s disapproval, I found Cedric’s hand and clasped it. “I love him too.”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “This is all very touching, but unfortunately, we live in the real world—not some cheap copper romance novel.”
Charles cleared his throat, expression uncertain. “Perhaps . . . perhaps we could lend him the fee. He is family, after all.”
“No,” said Jasper swiftly. “No special treatment. He violated our policies, and he’ll live with those consequences. If others know he received a favor, it’ll only worsen things—confirm the idea that we’re taking liberties here. He’ll deal with this disaster the same way anyone else would have to.”
“We will deal with this,” I corrected.
A knock at the door stopped Jasper from rolling his eyes again. He nodded for Charles to open the door, and sighed. “This had better not be another one of those girls finding some excuse to get a peek in here. I’m sure they’re all gathered outside the door trying to listen.”
But it was no eavesdropping girl. Instead, it was Mistress Culpepper who stood there when Charles opened the door. “Forgive me,” she said, face contrite. “But Mister Doyle and his mother are here. I wasn’t sure if I should send them away or not.”
Jasper groaned and briefly covered his eyes with his hand. “And there’s another thing destroyed by this debacle. I told you this would spread.” He deliberated a moment and then gave a nod to Mistress Culpepper. “Yes. Bring them in, and let’s get their outrage over and done with. It’s no more than you two deserve.”
Warren and Viola soon entered. Both were dressed exceptionally formally for a morning call, the dark color of their clothing seeming to emphasize the gravity of the situation. I could tell immediately they knew what had happened. Jasper personally escorted Viola to a seat, and Charles hastily arranged the office chairs in a semicircle, as though this were some friendly social occasion in a parlor.
The exasperation Jasper had displayed before was wiped away. He was in performance mode and wouldn’t show any weakness to the Doyles. “Mistress Doyle,” he began. “It’s always such a delight to have you in our home. I swear, you grow lovelier each time—”
She held up a hand to silence him. “Oh, stop with your con man’s prattle. You know why we’re here.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “We demand justice for the appalling, deceitful way she—”
“Mother,” interrupted Warren. “That is not why we’re here. Although I’m sure you can all imagine our shock when a messenger showed up at our house this morning with the, uh, news.”
Jasper put on a look of perfect contrition. “And I’m sure you can imagine how truly sorry we are for any miscommunication that may have happened in our recent interactions.”
“‘Miscommunication?’” Viola’s eyes widened. “Miscommunication? That girl said she’d marry my son last night. Then we hear this morning that she went straight into your son’s bed. That doesn’t really seem like a laughable misunderstanding.”
“Again,” said Jasper, “we are truly sorry for the inconvenience this may have caused you. You have every reason to be upset.”
“Upset, certainly . . .” Warren grew hesitant as he glanced between Cedric and me. “But not necessarily surprised.”
Even Jasper faltered. “You knew?”
Warren gestured toward Cedric and me. “About this specifically? No, no, of course not. But I could always tell there was something holding her back. No matter my entreaties, no matter how faultless I thought my logic . . . well, none of it worked. And I kept thinking, ‘What good reason could she have for not accepting?’ Now I understand.”
“She’s a conniving little—”
“Mother,” warned Warren. His civility toward us incensed her, and honestly, I was surprised by his attitude as well. “Tell me, Mister Thorn. What’s going to happen now?”
Jasper was back in comfortable territory. “Well, the first thing that’s going to happen is that you will have top priority in socializing with any of our remaining girls. And of course, there’ll be a substantial discount—”
“No,” said Warren. “I mean to them.”
I could practically see the wheels spinning in Jasper’s head as he tried to figure out how he might best get out of this situation with his business and reputation intact.
“Well, Mister Doyle, we run a pristine establishment. Honor and virtue are values we hold very highly. You’ve no doubt heard some sordid exaggerations about what happened last night—when the truth is much blander, I’m afraid. My son and this young lady, of course, plan to marry.”
Cedric and I exchanged only the briefest of amused glances at Jasper suddenly signing on to that plan.
“How kind.” Ice filled Viola’s voice. “You’re giving your son a beautifully wrapped, glittering gift. An expensive one at that, considering what you were trying to charge the rest of us.”
“And he’ll be paying the same,” said Jasper. “There is no special treatment around here when it comes to our girls. No gifts. Before they’re married, he’ll pay the base fee that any other man would have.”
Viola regarded Cedric incredulously. “And pray tell, young man, where will you be getting such funds? Are your father’s wages that good?”
“Many things are still being worked out, Mistress Doyle,” Cedric replied.
Warren gave us an indulgent smile. “Well, perhaps I can help them work a little more easily.”
From the way Viola’s head whipped around to look at her son, it was clear this was an unplanned turn of events. No one in the room really knew what to expect, and I had no reason to believe anything altruistic was to come, despite the smile Warren gave me.
“Adelaide, you’ve heard me speak many times about the gold claims in Hadisen and how we don’t have enough men to work them. I personally own a number of them, and they’re simply lying around. What I’d like to propose is that Mister Thorn take on one of those claims and mine it for me.”
That stunned us all to silence. After almost a minute of processing, Jasper unsurprisingly spoke first. “You want my son—my son—to mine a gold claim for you? You know he was a university student, don’t you? Studying business? He’s never done real manual labor in his life. He doesn’t even like the outdoors.”
I wondered what Jasper would think if he knew the truth about his son’s spiritual practices.
