The Glittering Court
Page 85
That long-ago idea rose up in me that at any moment my parents were going to walk through the door. I found myself looking toward the trailhead, like they might suddenly appear there. But my parents weren’t here. Neither was Grandmama. I wasn’t even wearing a dress.
“Adelaide?”
Cedric drew my attention back to him. One eyebrow was raised in question. No doubt he was thinking I’d changed my mind. Looking at him, at that beloved face, eased the weight of the ghosts that had settled on me. They weren’t gone. They never would be. But they were part of the past, and I couldn’t change that. It was the future I looked to now. The future I had chosen. The future I saw in Cedric’s eyes.
We held hands as Robert recited the words of the Alanzan ceremony. It was sweet and beautiful, speaking of how the joining of two people was part of the natural order of things. It made our union seem greater than us . . . like we now shared a part of some powerful, heavenly secret. Above us, a full moon shone down, and I remembered Mira saying that was a fortuitous omen for Alanzan weddings.
When Robert had finished reciting his words, it was time for us to recite ours. But first, he placed a circlet of bishop’s lace around our clasped hands. We tightened our hold as the frilly white flowers encircled our wrists. Then, I learned the full wording of the vows Cedric had once mentioned:
I will take your hand and lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon. I will build a life with you upon this green earth. I will walk by your side for so long as the sun continues to rise.
The ending kiss was the same as the ceremonies of Uros, and we savored it, clinging to each other as though afraid this would all slip away when we released each other. Also the same was the signing of various legal papers. It seemed odd to be doing something so bureaucratic in this wild setting, but it meant we were bound both in the eyes of the law and whatever gods were looking down upon us. With that realization, a new lightness suddenly filled me. I was free of anyone else’s claim upon me. And Cedric and I were together—truly together—as we’d been meant to be since that first day we met.
He drew me to him once Robert had wished us well and gone his way, promising to keep the documents safe. “How do you feel?” Cedric asked.
“Happier than I ever imagined I’d be at my wedding,” I said. “Happier than I ever imagined I’d be in my life. Also dirtier . . . but that doesn’t bother me as much as I expected.”
He brushed his lips over mine. “Well, it’s a good thing I know where there’s a luxury bathhouse. Although it’s probably going to be freezing.”
I grabbed his hand and immediately began leading him toward the shaded pond. “Then I’ll keep you warm,” I said.
He was right—the water was a lot colder than that day we’d bathed in the heat of the afternoon. And it was a lot harder to see by moonlight. But neither of us looked away this time. And neither of us held back. We helped each other wash, but I don’t know how good a job we really did. There was too much kissing. Too much holding. Too much everything.
I felt no chill in the water or when we left it and lay down on his coat in the grass. I felt nothing but heat, like we were both flames merging into something brighter and more powerful. And in what followed, I had that sense again that we were more than just us. We were part of the earth, part of the heavens. I understood why Alanziel and Deanziel had fallen from grace in order to be together. I would have defied Uros a thousand times over to be with Cedric.
Afterward, entwined with him on the grass, I didn’t want to go. It didn’t seem right to leave him on our wedding night. It didn’t seem right to leave him ever.
“Just a little longer,” he said. A warm breeze danced over us, but I still shivered. He pulled me closer. “Just a little longer, and then things will be normal.”
I rested my head on his chest and laughed. “Things have never been normal between us. And I hope they never are.”
And so, with great reluctance on both our parts, we put our clothes back on. Poor Lizzie probably thought she’d had the night off but doggedly took us down the trail. I sank into Cedric as we rode, dizzy and warm with this new connection between us.
At the cabin, we found Mistress Marshall waiting up for us. She sat at the table with a cup of tea but couldn’t fight a yawn as we entered. “There you are. Andrew wanted to come get you, but I told him you’d be along.”
“There was a lot of damage from the storm,” I said. It wasn’t an outright lie. “I’m sorry I missed the lessons.”
She yawned again. “It’s no concern. The children had plenty of cleanup work to do here. But your young man might as well stay over. No point in going back and turning right around in the morning. Just go upstairs and push the boys out of the way in the bed.”
“I will,” said Cedric. “Thank you.”
She headed toward her bedroom, and I asked, “Is the water still hot? I’d like to make some chamomile.”
She gestured at the kettle on the smoldering hearth. “Help yourself.”
Cedric and I walked upstairs together and then lingered on the landing that separated the boys’ and girls’ rooms.
“Well, how about that,” I whispered. “We get to spend our wedding night together after all.” Through a crack in the door to the boys’ room, we could hear loud snoring.
“Exactly as I imagined,” Cedric said.
We kissed as much as we dared with me holding a hot cup of water and the knowledge anyone might stumble upon us. I went off to the girls’ room floating, heady with everything that had taken place this night. I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on a plain nightgown. Before getting under the covers with the other girls, I sat on the room’s one stool and finished my tea. I hadn’t added chamomile to it, however. Instead, I’d mixed in the cinnamon thorn leaves that Mistress Marshall had given me on our journey.
Chapter 27
And so, unbeknownst to anyone else, a new pattern emerged for us in the next week. The entire world had changed for me.
Each morning Cedric would dutifully ride to the Marshall place and bring me back to help with the claim. We didn’t get to work right away, though. We’d fall into the bed—or, well, the straw mattress that passed as one—and linger there as long as we dared. At least the straw was new, having been replaced after the storm. Getting up and starting our day took some effort, but the knowledge that we were that much closer to the life we wanted spurred us on. Equally hard was leaving him at the end of the day, but we did that too. I’d teach my lessons, sleep, and begin it all anew.
“I got you something,” Cedric told me one morning.
“More than a gourmet meal?”
That too was something else that had emerged. Cedric would always get out of bed first and make me breakfast. The old stove’s options were limited, but he could pull off bacon and simple biscuits reasonably well. He’d serve it to me in bed, teasing that he had to wait on me because he knew that I secretly missed my old noble life and might leave him for it.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that sarcasm. And yes, something more.”
I sat up cross-legged on the mattress. The only thing I’d bothered putting on so far was my plain white blouse, which was looking a lot less white than when I’d come to Hadisen. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
“Adelaide?”
Cedric drew my attention back to him. One eyebrow was raised in question. No doubt he was thinking I’d changed my mind. Looking at him, at that beloved face, eased the weight of the ghosts that had settled on me. They weren’t gone. They never would be. But they were part of the past, and I couldn’t change that. It was the future I looked to now. The future I had chosen. The future I saw in Cedric’s eyes.
We held hands as Robert recited the words of the Alanzan ceremony. It was sweet and beautiful, speaking of how the joining of two people was part of the natural order of things. It made our union seem greater than us . . . like we now shared a part of some powerful, heavenly secret. Above us, a full moon shone down, and I remembered Mira saying that was a fortuitous omen for Alanzan weddings.
When Robert had finished reciting his words, it was time for us to recite ours. But first, he placed a circlet of bishop’s lace around our clasped hands. We tightened our hold as the frilly white flowers encircled our wrists. Then, I learned the full wording of the vows Cedric had once mentioned:
I will take your hand and lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon. I will build a life with you upon this green earth. I will walk by your side for so long as the sun continues to rise.
The ending kiss was the same as the ceremonies of Uros, and we savored it, clinging to each other as though afraid this would all slip away when we released each other. Also the same was the signing of various legal papers. It seemed odd to be doing something so bureaucratic in this wild setting, but it meant we were bound both in the eyes of the law and whatever gods were looking down upon us. With that realization, a new lightness suddenly filled me. I was free of anyone else’s claim upon me. And Cedric and I were together—truly together—as we’d been meant to be since that first day we met.
He drew me to him once Robert had wished us well and gone his way, promising to keep the documents safe. “How do you feel?” Cedric asked.
“Happier than I ever imagined I’d be at my wedding,” I said. “Happier than I ever imagined I’d be in my life. Also dirtier . . . but that doesn’t bother me as much as I expected.”
He brushed his lips over mine. “Well, it’s a good thing I know where there’s a luxury bathhouse. Although it’s probably going to be freezing.”
I grabbed his hand and immediately began leading him toward the shaded pond. “Then I’ll keep you warm,” I said.
He was right—the water was a lot colder than that day we’d bathed in the heat of the afternoon. And it was a lot harder to see by moonlight. But neither of us looked away this time. And neither of us held back. We helped each other wash, but I don’t know how good a job we really did. There was too much kissing. Too much holding. Too much everything.
I felt no chill in the water or when we left it and lay down on his coat in the grass. I felt nothing but heat, like we were both flames merging into something brighter and more powerful. And in what followed, I had that sense again that we were more than just us. We were part of the earth, part of the heavens. I understood why Alanziel and Deanziel had fallen from grace in order to be together. I would have defied Uros a thousand times over to be with Cedric.
Afterward, entwined with him on the grass, I didn’t want to go. It didn’t seem right to leave him on our wedding night. It didn’t seem right to leave him ever.
“Just a little longer,” he said. A warm breeze danced over us, but I still shivered. He pulled me closer. “Just a little longer, and then things will be normal.”
I rested my head on his chest and laughed. “Things have never been normal between us. And I hope they never are.”
And so, with great reluctance on both our parts, we put our clothes back on. Poor Lizzie probably thought she’d had the night off but doggedly took us down the trail. I sank into Cedric as we rode, dizzy and warm with this new connection between us.
At the cabin, we found Mistress Marshall waiting up for us. She sat at the table with a cup of tea but couldn’t fight a yawn as we entered. “There you are. Andrew wanted to come get you, but I told him you’d be along.”
“There was a lot of damage from the storm,” I said. It wasn’t an outright lie. “I’m sorry I missed the lessons.”
She yawned again. “It’s no concern. The children had plenty of cleanup work to do here. But your young man might as well stay over. No point in going back and turning right around in the morning. Just go upstairs and push the boys out of the way in the bed.”
“I will,” said Cedric. “Thank you.”
She headed toward her bedroom, and I asked, “Is the water still hot? I’d like to make some chamomile.”
She gestured at the kettle on the smoldering hearth. “Help yourself.”
Cedric and I walked upstairs together and then lingered on the landing that separated the boys’ and girls’ rooms.
“Well, how about that,” I whispered. “We get to spend our wedding night together after all.” Through a crack in the door to the boys’ room, we could hear loud snoring.
“Exactly as I imagined,” Cedric said.
We kissed as much as we dared with me holding a hot cup of water and the knowledge anyone might stumble upon us. I went off to the girls’ room floating, heady with everything that had taken place this night. I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on a plain nightgown. Before getting under the covers with the other girls, I sat on the room’s one stool and finished my tea. I hadn’t added chamomile to it, however. Instead, I’d mixed in the cinnamon thorn leaves that Mistress Marshall had given me on our journey.
Chapter 27
And so, unbeknownst to anyone else, a new pattern emerged for us in the next week. The entire world had changed for me.
Each morning Cedric would dutifully ride to the Marshall place and bring me back to help with the claim. We didn’t get to work right away, though. We’d fall into the bed—or, well, the straw mattress that passed as one—and linger there as long as we dared. At least the straw was new, having been replaced after the storm. Getting up and starting our day took some effort, but the knowledge that we were that much closer to the life we wanted spurred us on. Equally hard was leaving him at the end of the day, but we did that too. I’d teach my lessons, sleep, and begin it all anew.
“I got you something,” Cedric told me one morning.
“More than a gourmet meal?”
That too was something else that had emerged. Cedric would always get out of bed first and make me breakfast. The old stove’s options were limited, but he could pull off bacon and simple biscuits reasonably well. He’d serve it to me in bed, teasing that he had to wait on me because he knew that I secretly missed my old noble life and might leave him for it.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that sarcasm. And yes, something more.”
I sat up cross-legged on the mattress. The only thing I’d bothered putting on so far was my plain white blouse, which was looking a lot less white than when I’d come to Hadisen. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
