Face the Night, page 13
Adrian fixated on the gentle curve of her lips, her smile illuminating her features like a ray of sunlight breaking through a cloud bank. He lost his memory for words for a moment.
She must have noticed because just as quickly as it appeared, the smile was gone, hidden back beneath the clouds. Her gaze returned to the ground. Saints Almighty. He’d messed things up again.
“Speaking of horses,” she said more to her feet than to him. “May I use one this Sunday?”
Adrian swallowed. Hard. “Um, yes. That shouldn’t be a problem. May I ask what for?”
“To ride into Saint’s Landing for Sunday services at the mission. I promised Father Iggy I would check in with him from time to time. He told me he’d be at the mission in Saint’s Landing until after the election.”
Ah. Of course she’d want to attend church services and visit with the priest who had raised her. “Nonsense. The roads are much too dangerous for a young woman to travel alone. I can take you in the coach.”
Rose did not look up. “No, I really don’t mind—”
But Adrian clapped his hands together. “It’s already decided. I won’t allow you to travel alone, and we haven’t been to services ourselves in several months. I think it would be good for Edith to get back into the habit.”
“Thank you, sir.” She curtsied briefly, though still seeming more put out than grateful. “Now if you’ll excuse me, since you are insisting I attend, I should probably clean up for dinner too.”
Adrian blew out his breath again as he watched her go, needing a cold drink of water now more than ever. He felt like a fool for clearly upsetting her again. He couldn’t place his finger on what it was, but something about Rose unsettled his stomach. It was not an unpleasant feeling, more of an anxious flutter that made him want to follow her and find out exactly what about her intrigued him. He felt as though he knew her already somehow, a familiarity in spirit that comforted him as much as it excited him. His father would never approve of any attentions toward a governess, much less an orphaned ward of the church. Not to mention, the girl was a novice. But then again, she’d taken no vows yet. Perhaps she had no mind to join the church permanently . . .
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Why on earth was he considering what Rose’s plans for the future were? He had no business wondering such things. It must just be his relief at her choosing to stay, her seeming to form a connection to Edith. She clearly disliked him on some level. Perhaps his attraction toward her was nothing more than his desire to prove her misjudgments about him incorrect.
Yes, yes, that had to be it. He did not like anyone to misjudge his character. It was his greatest frustration in life, for others to assume him like his father, not to see him as an individual with his own heart and mind and soul. This mysterious draw toward Rose was simply his own desire to prove the quality of his character to her. Nothing more.
Nothing more at all.
Adrian carefully washed away any trace of dirt beneath his fingernails and selected one of his best dinner jackets. Captain Freeman dined at the house often enough, but his father’s expectations for excellence never wavered, even in familiar company. Adrian had just finished putting on his gloves when a servant’s knock sounded at the door.
“Your father asked to see you before dinner, sir.” The servant bowed his head.
“Thank you, Joseph. In his office, I assume?”
“Yes, sir.”
Adrian checked his appearance one last time in the mirror before deeming himself acceptable enough for his father’s scrutiny.
Baron Caldwell was waiting for him, already seated behind his desk like a king upon his wooden throne. Adrian entered his domain with tentative caution.
“Adrian.” His father nodded a quick greeting. His eyes briefly assessed Adrian’s attire for acceptability, which must have been met because he continued, “We have an important matter to discuss before the summit next week.”
Adrian swallowed. “Alright.”
“Sit.” His father motioned to the empty chair facing him. Adrian obeyed, his nerves stretching tighter, waiting for the moment they would snap. His father never invited him to sit.
The older man folded his gloved hands across the surface of the desk and regarded Adrian with a peculiar look—something close to pity. An unpleasant taste rose in Adrian’s throat.
“I know you are young, but with the political instability likely to take place in the wake of the governor’s death, we need to secure the favor and support of the other barons.”
Adrian furrowed his brow. Hadn’t he told his father his thoughts on the political climate only last week?
“I’m sure you are aware of my intentions to run as his replacement, of the importance of impressing our guests once they arrive.”
“Yes, I know the barons vote on the recommendation they will make to the emperor—”
“My standing,” his father continued as if Adrian had not spoken, “our standing amongst the barons would be greatly improved through an alliance with one of the more powerful families of Ordonia.”
“Father, we are already one of the most influential—”
“Yes, we are. But power and influence can always grow, and we need it now, more than ever. Especially when influence does not always translate into favor. For that, I will need your cooperation.”
Adrian rubbed his chin, unsure how he had anything to do with this. “For the vote?”
A muscle twitched with impatience in his father’s forehead. “Yes, for the vote,” he said tightly.
“Alright, but what does that have to do with me?”
“We need alliances,” his father repeated as if it were obvious. He reached down and slid a piece of paper across the desk. Adrian glanced down, quickly scanning the five or so names of young women neatly written in his father’s hand. He knew the names, of course: all daughters of prominent barons and baronesses across the territory.
All daughters of marriageable age.
The realization slammed into Adrian like a kick from a horse. He opened his mouth to object, but his father lifted a hand and cut him off before he could.
“I already said I know you are young. We do not need to rush any plans for a wedding, but I do believe it is time you showed some interest in the marriage market. Ask some ladies to dance at the summit gathering we are hosting, allow me to spread word of your search for a future baroness. The desire of the other families to make a prudent match for their daughters might provide some excellent leverage that I—we—can use to our advantage.”
Adrian’s jaw snapped shut. His father wanted to use him as leverage with the other barons? He shouldn’t be surprised; nothing would stand in the way of his father’s ambitions. But Adrian had no desire to begin any kind of search for a wife. He had assumed he still had several more years at least. He knew it had been ages, but the thought of marrying someone, anyone who wasn’t—
As if he could read Adrian’s thoughts, his father’s tone softened uncharacteristically. “You must accept the fact that she is gone, Adrian.”
Adrian’s eyes snapped up, his heartstrings thrumming. “What do you mean?”
His father sighed. “I will not pretend I haven’t noticed. You have shown little interest in any young lady since you’ve come of age. I was courting ladies left and right when I was nineteen. I know you had visions for your future, but Catriona Macgregor is dead. The sooner you accept that fact and move on, the better it will be for you.”
A lump formed in Adrian’s throat. For some reason, Rose’s brief flash of a smile flitted through his thoughts.
“I wouldn’t say I’ve had no interest . . .”
His father exposed his gloved palms. “Adrian, please. I wanted you to marry her too. I did everything in my power to arrange it. I would still arrange it now if it were a possibility. To unite the Caldwell lands with the Macgregors’ would have been an excellent arrangement for us all. I also know how much you cared for the girl—as much of a handful as she was,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “You two were inseparable. And your mother desired it as well.”
A burning sensation began behind Adrian’s eyes at the mention of his mother, but he stuffed the feeling down. He didn’t want to show any weakness in front of his father. Even if his father had been paying closer attention than he’d realized.
It wasn’t that he pined after Catriona. Saints, they’d only been children. But he’d always imagined, in the way that children do, that someday he would marry his best friend. After she died, he’d just lost interest in letting himself get that close to someone again.
He thought about the geode sitting on the dressing table in his room—a rough, unappealing outer layer of stone that hid beautiful purple amethyst crystals within its depths. He remembered the day he and Catriona had found it in the desert, how she’d cracked it open and squealed with joy that they’d found such a beautiful treasure. How she had insisted he be the one to keep it. “Remember that things aren’t always what they seem to be,” she’d said. “You look like your dad on the outside, but you’re something much better on the inside.”
He’d looked at that rock on his dresser every morning for the last ten years as he put his mother’s necklace of Saint Veritas around his neck, letting them both remind him that he wasn’t the same as his father. That he could be something better.
Finally, he looked his father square in the eye. “I know she’s gone. I just haven’t thought about anyone in that way because I’ve had other things to worry about.”
His father stood with a triumphant smile, pushing his chair back from his desk. “Well, it is time you worry about more adult concerns, for your own future.” He thrust the list of names toward Adrian again. “At least make an effort.”
Adrian stared down at the list, wanting to read each of their names aloud, but all of them tasted bitter on his tongue. None of them would ever replace Catriona. But for once, his father was right. She was gone. She had been for almost ten years. He had avoided this issue for long enough.
Again Rose’s face danced along the edge of his thoughts. A governess. An orphan. A novice. He didn’t need to imagine his father’s response were he to give any of his precious leverageable attention to anyone outside the gilded circle of the barons.
He took up the list and folded it before placing it in his pocket.
His father smiled, the whiteness of his teeth standing in stark contrast to the dark hair lining his upper lip. “Thank you, Adrian. It’s much easier for you to cooperate than for me to make the final decision for you.”
Adrian turned to leave the office. The list weighed as heavy as a boulder in his pocket.
Chapter
Twenty
Cat tried not to panic that Captain Freeman was coming to dinner. There was no reason for him to suspect her. But if anyone were to disrupt her plan to stop Baron Caldwell, it would be that young, arrogant bastard.
She considered skipping dinner altogether, feigning illness or hiding in her room. But she also knew that would draw more attention. Besides, there was a chance she could hear some important conversations. Conversations that could involve their plans to secure the governorship. She had to be there; there was no other option.
It would be dangerous to let Freeman see her face close-up, but at least on the train, she’d been filthy and bruised after weeks in that jail cell. Her face had been coated in a layer of dirt, her hair had been matted and far redder than it was now. And he wouldn’t be expecting to see her here, which would work in her favor, but she’d need to take some extra precautions just in case. After hiding her hair securely beneath her bonnet and adding extra powder to her nose to disguise her freckles, she finally descended the steps to dinner. Her vision flashed a warning just before she entered the room.
She knew being in such close contact with Captain Freeman was a risk, but it was a risk she had to take. The captain and a few of his men were already sitting, deep in conversation with Baron Caldwell at the head of the table. An empty seat waited for her between Adrian and Edith, mercifully at the other end from the captain. When she stepped inside, the men immediately rose to their feet in greeting. She could feel Freeman’s dark gaze focus on her, and she kept her own firmly focused on the floor, the perfect appearance of humility and supplication.
“Gentlemen, my daughter’s new governess, Miss Rose from . . . some mission in Polvo,” Baron Caldwell supplied quickly with a brief flick of his hand. Cat lifted her gaze to curtsy. The soldiers all nodded in greeting before returning to their seats, obviously as dismissive of her presence as the baron. Freeman, however, eyed her much longer than the others, fixing her with a scrutiny that sent shivers down the length of her spine. She met his gaze only briefly, enough to watch the corner of his mouth curl up into a cruel semblance of a smile, just as she’d seen in her vision. But then he turned his attention back to the baron and took his seat as well. Cat tried to steady her shaking hands.
Adrian leaned over to her the moment she sat down. “You look lovely this evening, Miss Rose. I’m so glad you could join us.”
She offered him a small smile but did not speak. She wasn’t sure she trusted using her voice in front of Freeman just yet.
Edith tugged on Cat’s simple brown sleeve. “What are we doing tomorrow?” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Something fun,” Cat whispered back. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to make your dad happy that doesn’t involve both of us wanting to poke our eyes out.”
Edith dimpled. From the corner of her eye, Cat noticed Adrian smiling and shaking his head.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea, Miss Rose,” he said.
“How unfortunate. I happen to think it’s a splendid idea.”
“Oooo, do you know what she has planned for tomorrow?” Edith whispered around Cat to her brother.
“I do, but I believe it is a secret and I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” Adrian lifted a fist to his mouth to hide a snicker.
Cat’s stomach soured unpleasantly. “I think that is a wise decision, Mr. Caldwell. Knowing when to keep important secrets is an admirable virtue, after all.” A steel edge had slipped into her tone—and Adrian seemed to catch it.
His face turned more serious as he considered her. “I couldn’t agree more, Miss Rose.”
She offered him another tight smile and turned to watch the servants bring in the first course. She could still feel Adrian’s gaze upon her, so she turned to address Edith instead.
But Edith was looking between Adrian and Cat with a look almost like concern. “Are you mad at my brother?” Edith asked in a small voice. “Has he done something wrong?”
The little girl was clearly astute and sensitive to the goings-on around her. Cat made a mental note to be more careful. “Absolutely not. Everything is fine.”
Edith didn’t look so sure; she continued to glance between them. Cat reached over and placed a hand over Edith’s. “I am just nervous in present company is all. I promise it has nothing to do with your brother.”
“Nervous in present company? I am sorry to hear that, Miss . . . Rose was it?”
Cat knew the voice before she even looked down the table to see who had spoken. A fist seemed to tighten around her throat.
She swallowed hard. “I just mean to say that I have not been around many soldiers, and it is my first meal with the baron himself. I hope to make a good impression.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will make a fine impression. You certainly are off to a wonderful start from what I hear,” Freeman said, his lip curling again. “Where did they say you are from again?”
“The mission in Polvo,” Cat said, the tightness in her throat intensifying.
“I wasn’t aware the priest in Polvo had any wards under his care.” Freeman took a casual sip of wine from his glass. He was baiting her. She didn’t need her vision to warn her that her next words must be carefully chosen.
“I’ve been at the mission in Saint’s Landing the last few years, but I still consider Polvo my home. I was very close to the priest there as a child.”
“Hmmm.” Freeman took another sip of blood-red wine.
“How are you liking the vintage for tonight, Freeman? I favor the Davenport more myself, but a nice bottle from the vineyards of Casterleigh complements the beef, I think,” the baron interrupted. He must have decided that too much conversation had been wasted on a lowly governess because he immediately reengaged Freeman in some discussion about the local wineries.
The first course, a warm potato soup with tiny sprigs of rosemary, was placed before her, and she couldn’t help but notice Freeman watching her out of the corner of his eye. She bowed her head and prayed over the meal, making sure she did not make the same mistake she’d made with Adrian the night before. The captain seemed appeased, though he still threw glances at her throughout the rest of the meal.
She also tried to watch Edith’s table manners, making sure that her elbows were not on the table and that she was using the right utensils. That some part of her brain still remembered these foolish customs amazed her. She thought the instructions from her own governess had disappeared somewhere beneath Amos’s lessons of shooting and stealing cattle. They were rusty to be sure, but still more present than she imagined they would be. Father Iggy’s refreshers over the past week must have helped too. She tried not to giggle at the memory. Father Iggy was surprisingly refined for an exiled, bootlegging priest.
“What has you grinning?” Adrian asked.
“Just thinking of proving you wrong about Edith tomorrow,” she said sweetly.
A sparkle of mischief shone in his eye. “Shall we make a bet on that, Miss Rose?”
She placed a hand over her heart and feigned great insult. “I am a novice, Mr. Caldwell. I do not participate in such things as gambling.”
He gave her a flat look.
Cat blinked.
“Fine, I’ll take that wager,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But if I win, Edith gets to decide your punishment.”
