Home > The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court #1)(97)

The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court #1)(97)
Author: Richelle Mead

We spent the rest of the evening hauling in supplies before the rain came. Cape Triumph’s sheltered position protected it from storms, but they could sometimes blow through to Hadisen with a vengeance. Most of the journey so far had been about endurance, and this was my first real taste of hard labor. Mister Marshall and a couple of the boys helped put the livestock in their barn. We finished just in time, and Mistress Marshall cooked us a pot of millet and dried meat for dinner over the hearth. We sat on a long bench at the table to eat. It wasn’t comfortable, especially with my aching muscles, but it saved us from sitting on the hard-packed dirt floor.

“It won’t stay like that forever,” Mistress Marshall said, pointing down. “We aren’t savages. We’ll soon have straw to cover it.”

When it came time to sleep, I picked a spider out of the bed and hoped there weren’t any more. We blew out the candles and listened to the rain pound against the roof as we lay huddled together in the large bed. It turned out to be a steady downpour, not a fierce storm. The roof didn’t leak, so it had that going for it at least.

Lying there in the dark, I remembered that I was a countess of the blood, a peeress of Osfrid. The anxiety I’d felt on my first day on the Hadisen journey rose within me, and I tried to think of Cedric’s words, that my difficulty came in simply adjusting to a situation I wasn’t perfect at. It was comfort enough to help me fall asleep, though I had to wonder how anyone could feel like an expert at living in a cabin on the brink of civilization.

Cedric didn’t come the next day as he’d said he would. Or the day after that. At first, I was annoyed by the delay. But as more days added up, I began to worry. The Marshalls told me all was probably fine, but the fear gnawed at me. I had plenty of time to think about all sorts of terrible possibilities because I was constantly engaged in manual activities that taxed my body more than my mind. My academic lessons wouldn’t begin until the homestead was set up, and I didn’t mind pulling my share for the Marshalls. But I was hopelessly underprepared.

The skills I’d learned as a noblewoman were useless. And most of the Glittering Court’s lessons were as well. No marriage possibility had ever ended in a scenario like this. We’d practiced tasks that the mistress of a modest household—like Nicholas Adelton’s—might need to supervise or even help out with if the other servants were busy. But there’d been no preparation for the chores that met me out here. I learned to milk cows and churn butter. I ground hard corn into fine grain. I dug in the earth to plant seeds for vegetables and herbs. I cooked batches of simple, hearty fare that was low on taste but could feed a large crowd. I made lye soap—which was pretty much my least favorite job of all.

There was no party planning. No dancing. No sugared glass plates. No music in the conservatory. No conservatory.

And my hands were . . . well, not what they once were.

When Cedric finally showed, I was sweeping the cabin’s earthen floor—something that seemed completely pointless to me. It mostly felt like I was moving dirt around. I’d been up since sunrise, and it was only one of many grubby chores I’d performed. I looked up to wipe my brow, startled to see Cedric standing in the doorway, regarding me with an astonished look. I let the broom drop to the floor and threw myself into his arms, nearly knocking him over in the process. He used the doorframe to steady himself and then wrapped me to him more closely. I rested a hand on his chest, taking in how real and solid he was.

“You’re not dead,” I breathed.

He choked on a laugh. “Nice to see you too, dear.”

I wanted to make a joke to hide my true feelings. I didn’t want him to know how afraid I’d been these last few days, that I’d imagined terrible things happening to him, that I’d feared all these dreams we’d built would be lost. But as Cedric looked me over and his smile faded, I knew he could see it all in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Cedric, where have you been?” I tightened my hold on him and could see now that he was as dirty and worn as I was. “I’ve been so worried.”

“I know, I know. I should’ve sent word, but there’s been so much to do. More than I expected. You’ll see soon enough.”

“We just finished breakfast, but you’re welcome to some porridge,” Mistress Marshall said from behind me. I’d forgotten she was there. Her tone was friendly, but there was an edge to it Cedric and I both understood. We quickly sprang apart.

The aforementioned porridge had been one of the blandest things I’d ever had. Cedric had always been picky at Blue Spring Manor and Wisteria Hollow, insisting his eggs be poached and his pastries warmed. I figured he’d turn down such a mundane meal, but to my surprise, he accepted and ate two bowls. When he finished, he asked the Marshalls if he could bring me to his claim.

“I know she must have all sorts of things to do here, but I’d like to show her the land,” he said. “I’ll return her by dinnertime.”

“Certainly,” said Mistress Marshall. “And then you can stay and eat with us.”

Cedric looked immensely pleased by that.

Another rainstorm had made for a cool morning, and I donned my suede pants and coat, along with the wide-brimmed hat. It was as much for practicality as to put on something clean. I tended to wear the same work dress each day, and the Marshalls took baths only on weekends.

“Don’t you look like a proper frontier woman, ready to ride off and tame the wild,” Cedric said.

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