“El—”
“Don’t.” I pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t call me that. That’s not my name anymore. I’m Adelaide. This is my life now—the one that began the day I met you.”
He caught hold of my hand so that he could kiss each of my fingers. A tremor went through him, and he looked away. “You shouldn’t say that. Not when you’re getting married tomorrow.”
“Do you think that changes how I feel?” I reached out and turned his face back toward mine. “Do you think my being someone else’s wife will change anything? Don’t you know that I’d lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon? That I’d defy the laws of gods and men for you?”
I couldn’t even say who started the kissing then. Maybe there was no true start. Maybe it was just a continuation of what we’d begun that night among the stars. Wrapped in his arms, wrapped in him, I couldn’t believe I’d somehow gone the last week without touching him. Really touching him—not those stolen brushes of fingertips and legs. I had danced with dozens of men in this month and never felt a flicker of what I felt when Cedric simply looked at me.
He shifted so that my back was pressed against the window, and I pulled him as close to me as I could. I undid the tie that held his hair back, releasing it around his face. He delicately ran his hands along where the dress exposed one shoulder and then brought his lips down to it. The heat of his mouth against my bare flesh undid me, and I arched my body against his. He pulled back abruptly, breathing ragged.
“You told me once—”
“That I planned on staying virtuous until my wedding night?” I guessed. “That’s true. It’s a principle I believe in. But, well, I have a very creative definition of ‘virtuous.’ And if this is the last night I can be with you, I plan on pushing the limits of that definition as far as they can go.”
His mouth was on mine again, filled with a demand that made me shudder. His hands slowly moved up my hips—up, up until they reached the top of the dress’s low-cut bodice. He traced the edge of the neckline and then began untying the intricate silver laces that held it all together. I’d nearly pried his suit coat off when the door to the attic landing suddenly opened.
Mira had warned me she thought someone else was using this window as an escape, but I’d never really expected to cross paths with that person.
And I’d certainly never expected it would be Clara.
Chapter 19
To say there was a lot of fallout would be something of an understatement.
I’d feared many things since coming to Adoria. I’d worried I’d be forced into a marriage I didn’t want. I’d been concerned the discovery of my identity would get me dragged back to Osfrid. And most of all, I’d always, always feared for Cedric being hung as a heretic.
But being hauled into Charles and Jasper’s office for “indecent behavior” had never crossed my mind.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” Jasper cried. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? This will ruin us!”
Cedric and I sat side by side in hard-backed wooden chairs while Jasper paced in front of us with hands clasped behind his back, very much like some sort of courtroom attorney. Charles stood against the opposite wall and looked as though he was still having trouble coming to terms with these new developments. It was the morning after “the incident.” We’d both been sent back to our respective rooms last night, with hired men on watch, in case we attempted to flee.
“I think ‘ruin’ is kind of a strong term,” said Cedric calmly.
“Oh, really?” Jasper came to a halt in front of us. Fury smoldered in his eyes. “You don’t think this is going to get out? Because I assure you, it’s already gotten out. The rest of the girls are under lockdown, but the servants and the hired men know. This will be all over Cape Triumph by the end of the day, and no man will come near us. I’m not naïve. I know some of these girls didn’t come to us as blushing maidens.” Charles looked startled by that revelation. “But we’ve always preserved that image of purity, letting our prospective clients believe their wife’s virtue is still intact. Now, there’s hard proof that that’s not the case.”
The mention of virtue reminded me of my own glib words last night: I have a very creative definition of “virtuous.”
“Nothing happened.” Cedric was remaining remarkably cool-headed, given the situation. Maybe it was the result of years of dealing with his father’s moods. “Her virtue is still intact.”
Jasper fixed me with a look I didn’t like. It made me feel . . . unclean. “Oh? I have a hard time believing that. From what I heard, her clothes were scattered across the floor.”
A deep blush filled my cheeks. “That’s a lie. That’s Clara trying to make things worse.”
“Well, at least you’re acknowledging things are bad to begin with,” snapped Jasper. “The truth doesn’t matter. It will get twisted—for the worse. By the time this story’s told enough, you’ll be as brazen as some Alanzan harlot sprawled in the grass. Everyone’s going to know my son had his way with one of our girls. And everyone’s going to think that’s how it is—that all the men here are sampling our goods.”
I didn’t like being referred to as “goods,” but the rest of his words struck me in a way I hadn’t expected. Cedric’s silence told me they’d affected him as well.