Iron Garland (Harbinger Book 3)

by Jeff Wheeler

  She squeezed Cettie’s arm and let out a painful sigh.

  “I do not trust that man,” Cettie said in a low, angry voice.

  “No one in their right mind would trust someone like him,” Lady Maren replied. “Now I’m regretting that we came.”

  “I saw his tempest in the yard,” Cettie said. Then she spied Rand Patchett in his dragoon uniform, surrounded by no less than seven young ladies fawning over him. Was he pleased by the attention? She couldn’t tell.

  “If I’d known, I would have remained behind on the ship,” Lady Maren said. “How awkward and painful. He thinks my husband is dead, so he’s throwing himself at my feet to get his hands on a portion of my wealth.”

  Cettie remembered that he had started his attentions even before the reports came of Fitzroy’s death. She didn’t mention this, however. Captain Francis was a scoundrel of the darkest sort. How much did he owe in debts? Cettie believed that was the true cause of his misbehavior, not any remaining tenderness for Lady Maren.

  “Would you like to sit down, Mother?”

  “Very much so.”

  The two found some padded seats and sat down together, still hand in hand. Cettie was grateful she was there to support her. But she still watched the dancers with a growing sense of envy.

  Partway through the ball, Joanna approached them with a young woman of fashion, whom she announced as Miss Ransom. She had a pinched nose, and her blond hair was done up in little curls, half-hidden by the elaborate headdress she wore.

  “I am so thankful you came,” Miss Ransom said in a nasally voice. “The gala has been a tremendous success. Why, I just finished telling the prime minister that we’ve raised six hundred thousand just this evening. For the poor and the wounded,” she added with an exaggerated pout. “He thinks we should do this again soon, that the need far outweighs the resources. Miss Patchett suggested we visit one of the hospitals tomorrow.”

  “One of the hospitals below,” Joanna said, arching her eyebrows at Cettie.

  Miss Ransom blanched. “I . . . I thought you meant one of the ones for the officers.”

  “No, dearest,” Joanna said, shaking her head. “Would it not be a more powerful statement to visit one of the hospitals where the common soldiers are treated?”

  “B-but, b-but the cholera morbus,” Miss Ransom said. “They say it breeds in the air down there.”

  “No one knows what causes it,” Joanna replied soothingly. “Think of what it would do for the morale of the men. Even if we just stayed for only a little while. We should try.”

  Miss Ransom seemed terrified by the notion. “Thank you for coming,” she said to Lady Maren with a bow. She nodded curtly to Cettie before walking away.

  Joanna watched her go. “Six hundred thousand. That’s all. But it’s a start.” She came closer, smiling fetchingly, and pulled Cettie up from the chair by her hands. “Why didn’t you wear a ball gown, dearest? Don’t tell me the family can’t afford one.”

  Cettie smiled. “I would rather not pretend to be someone else for the evening,” she replied. “I know what I am. Who I am. I don’t belong in a place like this.”

  “Tosh,” said Joanna with a wrinkle in her nose. “You’re every bit as cultured as any of these vain girls. You went to the same school. You’re brilliant and charming.”

  “But I’m from the Fells,” Cettie said, tilting her head and shrugging. “They’ll never forget it.”

  “One day that won’t matter,” Joanna said, her gaze softening as her brother approached them from the crowd.

  Rand looked restless. “I thought I’d never get away from that gaggle of geese,” he snorted. “I nearly suffocated on their perfume.”

  Cettie stifled a laugh.

  Rand raised his eyebrows. “Do I amuse you, Cettie?”

  Lady Maren said, “You speak what most of us only think in our hearts but would never dare admit.”

  Rand folded his arms. “I abhor this excuse of a celebration. Six hundred thousand, did you hear that?”

  “We did, Rand,” Joanna said warily. “Now don’t ruin it.”

  “That’s how much it cost to appease their guilt,” he went on, ignoring his sister’s subtle warning. “They’ve wanted a ball anyway, and the soldiers’ suffering became the pretext. Look at them.” He shook his head, barely masking his disgust. “At least in war you can tell your enemy by their uniform. You know that their weapon is aimed at your heart. Here, it’s all a mask. A deception.”

  “Have you been drinking?” Joanna asked, her look full of worry.

  “I haven’t had time,” he said. “And no, Sister, I’ve not even caught a whiff of the other stuff. But it brings back memories from before the war. Thoughts of who I used to be.” He shook his head, gazing at the crowd.

  “Have you danced yet, Rand?”

  He looked at Joanna and shook his head. “Not for a lack of offers, though! The young women here are brazen!”

  The opening strains of “Sky Ship’s Cook” started. It was one of Cettie’s favorites, and she couldn’t help but smile. There was a sporadic bubble of applause, and then three rows began to assemble for the dance. Anna hadn’t yet been allowed a rest, and sure enough, Cettie spotted her across from a new partner.

  “You like this song?” Rand said to her in surprise. “I saw you brighten just now. It’s one of my favorites. Dance with me, Cettie. Let’s cause a scandal.” He held out his hand to her and flashed a mischievous grin. He wasn’t wearing gloves either.

  “Rand,” Joanna sighed, shaking her head.

  “I’m serious,” he pressed, looking at Cettie. “Not about the scandal part, that was a joke, but I’d be honored if you would dance with me.”

  There was only a moment to decide. The rows were about to start dancing. If anyone else had asked her, she would have declined outright. She hadn’t come there expecting to dance. The dress she’d worn would have dissuaded all but the most desperate. Or the most friendly. And yet she found she did not wish to deny him.

  She nodded and took Rand’s hand, feeling a little jolt of energy from his fingers. He beamed at her and led her to the end of one of the rows. Seeing them together, their hands uncovered and touching, some of the guests couldn’t conceal their scandalized expressions. Cettie didn’t care.

  When the first beat sounded, she didn’t miss it. She knew this song by heart and danced to it with great enjoyment, probably to the astonishment of most everyone around her. There was no misstep. No infraction. It pleased her to show them what she could do.

  When the song and applause ended, she turned to go back to Lady Maren.

  Rand caught her hand. “Not yet,” he said with resolve, his eyes gazing into hers as if she were the only one in the crowded ballroom. “One more,” he asked. The new song began, and she acquiesced, recognizing the tune and knowing the steps.

  And after that song came another. And then another.

  Until the ball ended.

  CHAPTER TWENTY−SEVEN

  SISTERS

  Phinia and her husband arrived on the afternoon following the Ransoms’ ball. Cettie thought the timing of their unscheduled trip was odd, for there had been no communication from them. They had already informed both Phinia and Stephen that the reports of Fitzroy’s death were inaccurate, but one look at Phinia’s flushed cheeks and pouty lips suggested this had nothing to do with Fitzroy. After they all convened in the sitting room, Phinia insisted that Cettie stay to hear her out.

  “I cannot believe what I’m hearing!” she said, pacing. Malcolm, completely unaffected by whatever had angered his wife, helped himself to some tarts left over from the previous meal.

  Mother sighed and gave her eldest daughter an arch look. “And what is it you’re hearing, Phinia?”

  “About the Ransoms’ ball, of course! And how the entire Fitzroy family was invited except for Milk and I. Did you even consider that I might want to go?”

  The Control Leering alerted Cettie to the arrival of another sky ship, which she
recognized to be the Patchetts’, and so she rose from the couch to greet the visitors.

  Phinia pointed at her fiercely. “Don’t you go yet, Cettie. You must stay for the duration.”

  Cettie maintained her composure. “There is much I have to do, Phinia.”

  “I’m not here just to complain about not being invited to the ball. What I have to say concerns you.”

  That took Cettie by surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “All of Lockhaven is talking about your conduct at the ball.”

  “My conduct?” Cettie asked, perplexed.

  “Indeed.”

  “Phinia,” Mother said, rubbing her eyes, “what in the world are you talking about?”

  “And you as well, Mother,” Phinia said accusingly. “I heard you had a tête-à-tête with Clive Francis of all people! I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I heard it from three separate people. Mother!”

  Lady Maren’s nostrils flared, but she tried to rein in her patience. “I was accosted by Captain Francis and got away from him directly.”

  “But the rumors, Mama. They’re already starting. They say you went back to your old love as soon as Father was reported dead. The gossip I’ve heard . . . Why, it’s becoming another scandal.” She turned back to Cettie, who felt her heart pumping with anger. “And then there are the rumors that you are secretly engaged to Randall Patchett. Why else would the two of you dance together all night? I never suspected that you could be so indiscreet. There are other whispers that the two of you have been spending much time together. Alone.”

  “I am not engaged to anyone,” Cettie said in bewilderment.

  “Whether you are or not, they’re saying it’s a good match. You are both from down below, after all.”

  “Phinia,” Anna said, rising from the couch. “We are your family. Why are you turning on us like this?”

  “Can’t you see how your behavior affects me?” Phinia said, stamping her foot. “Affects Milk and I? There was no ill rumor about you, Anna, but if one of us gets shunned, the rest of us will be ruined too. But I came here at once to set things right. There are proprieties that must be followed. Isn’t that right, Milk?”

  He was caught midbite and started to choke, before spluttering out, “Yes, dear. Whatever you say.”

  Mother was clearly outraged by Phinia’s lecture, but she managed to bridle her temper. “Phinia, you are my daughter, and I love you. But truly, it is not your place to accuse any of us of impropriety. I’m sure the rumors are putting things in the worst possible light. Or perhaps there is an orchestrated effort to discredit our family. But we need to be firm. We need to remain loyal to one another.”

  “But is it true, Mother? Would you remarry if Father is truly dead?”

  Lady Maren pursed her lips. “He is not dead, and even if he were, do you truly think I would dishonor his memory by going back to a man who jilted me so cruelly? Captain Francis is in debt, no doubt. Believe me, it’s more than affection that has brought him back. We’ve barred him from coming to Fog Willows. And will continue to do so.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Kinross entered. “The Patchetts are arriving, ma’am. Did you invite them?”

  “I did not,” Lady Maren sighed. “Suddenly we have a surfeit of visitors.”

  “They come here frequently, do they?” Phinia snorted.

  “Daughter, if you can’t be civil, I will ask you to leave.”

  “I can be civil. If I had been there, none of this would have happened. It seems I know more about the ways of the world than all of you put together.”

  Mother shook her head in wonderment, and soon after, Rand and Joanna were led into the room with Mr. Batewinch. Joanna greeted them all with a bright smile and warm demeanor.

  “My goodness,” she said, looking at all the faces. “Is there a storm at Fog Willows? Look at all of you. The ball last night was a complete success.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard,” Phinia said in an undertone.

  Joanna’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Hello, Phinia. Are you cross that you weren’t invited?”

  “Why should I not be?” said the other girl defensively. “Though I must say, I’ve heard nothing but scandalous rumors about the ball.”

  Joanna gave her a knowing smile. “You’re listening to the wrong people, Phinia. The jealous. The vain. The ball was such a success that there will be another one, held at Gimmerton Sough. You are all invited.” She gave Phinia a small nod.

  That changed Phinia’s outlook completely, and she brightened like the dawn. “Truly?”

  “Of course!” Joanna said. “The prime minister himself said that it would be a welcome thing. There are reports that we may be close to a peace treaty or at least a cease-fire. A possible marriage between Miss Fitzempress and Prince Trevon of Kingfountain. Would not that news call for a ball in celebration? We could hear word any day.”

  “That is news,” Lady Maren said. “Where did you learn of it?”

  Joanna shrugged. “You forget that Lady Lawton is our landlord. She approved of the ball and gave her compliments to Miss Ransom for holding it. She couldn’t attend it herself, of course, not with her husband being so recently deceased.”

  “Lady Corinne?” Phinia said in surprise. “She approved?”

  “Of course. She recently had to eject some ladies from her set. No doubt they’re the ones who have been spreading spurious rumors.”

  “I don’t know, Sister,” Rand said, folding his arms and shaking his head. “The rumors might be true.” He flashed Cettie a mischievous smile. “You didn’t tell anyone about our secret engagement, did you?”

  Phinia gasped, and Rand laughed at her.

  “There isn’t one!” he said, holding up his hands. “The things people will believe. I am weary of all the protocols and forms and nonsense that beleaguer our society. Now, don’t get me wrong. I think Cettie is well worth having, and I’m not ashamed to admit it here in front of her family, but I do believe she and I had the same thing in mind. We danced in front of them to prove that we don’t care about their approbation or approval.” He gave Cettie a short bow. “And you were an excellent partner and knew all your steps as well as or better than any highborn lady there. Well done.”

  Cettie felt a flush rise on her throat at his compliment.

  Joanna looked at her brother fondly. “There will be many invitations going out for our ball by zephyr, starting this afternoon. We wanted to deliver yours in person. Your entire family is welcome. Even Stephen, if you can spare him from the mines and if his wound is healing well.”

  Phinia’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Milk and I can get him!”

  “Of course, dear,” Malcolm said. He set down a second tart, seemingly enthusiastic about the ball.

  “Who else will be coming?” Lady Maren asked.

  Joanna shrugged. “Many friends that I met at Pavenham Sky. They’ll all attend. There will also be plenty of officers from the Ministry of War. But we don’t want to limit it to just one ministry. I think we all ought to become more . . . unified. Do let us know if there is anyone you think we should invite. I considered asking the Hardings, but it might prove awkward for them to come back to their old home as visitors. What do you think, Lady Maren?”

  Cettie was pleased by Joanna’s outlook. She didn’t understand how this young woman had risen so high so quickly in the esteem of their society. She was clearly a young lady of influence.

  “I think they’d appreciate being invited nonetheless,” Mother answered.

  “Done,” Joanna said with a bright smile.

  “Might we take a walk around the grounds?” Rand asked. “I’d be interested in seeing the outside of this place, and the weather is quite fine. Can we?”

  “If you’d like,” Mother replied with a gracious nod.

  It was a pleasant afternoon walk. The wind was mild, and the sun bright and warm. Rand kept at Cettie’s side and showed particular interest in the grounds. Anna told him about the roo
ks and their nests, and he demanded that they see them, and so they went off the trail a bit to the place where Adam had once shown them the birds’ nesting area. Returning to the place brought back memories Cettie had always relished. She thought it strange how the past had its own form of magic that could play chords on the heart. Rand was gallant and kind to all of them—he even teased Phinia and Malcolm—and there was little sign of the angry, tortured soul she’d seen before.

  After the hour-long stroll, the guests all returned to their sky ships and left, and Cettie hurried to the study to catch up on her duties. From the desk, she found herself watching the two ships heading in two different directions. Phinia’s outlook had been completely altered by the events of the afternoon. She was giddy with excitement at the prospect of attending the Patchetts’ ball. And she’d come to realize that Joanna’s influence far outpaced her own.

  Cettie felt her brow wrinkle as she looked down at the desk. The ledger book was open, but she felt certain she’d closed it. One of the drawers in the desk was also ajar. Nothing appeared amiss when she pulled it open, and yet . . . She frowned, wondering if her memory was playing tricks on her. Reaching out to the Leerings in her mind, she tested them and saw that the defenses were still engaged. With another thought, she summoned Kinross.

  He arrived shortly afterward, a curious look on his face. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Did anyone come in here to tidy while we were walking the grounds?”

  He looked surprised. “No one, ma’am. No one comes in here unless you ask them to. Is anything wrong?”

  A strange, uneasy feeling crept over her, raising gooseflesh on her skin. “No, I don’t think so.” She looked back at the table again, and the arrangement of things just felt . . . wrong.

  “You got the letter, did you not?” Kinross asked.

  “What letter?”

  “It arrived while you were gone, and I left it on the desk. It came from a village on the coast. It arrived with several business deeds, I believe.” He walked up behind her and riffled through some of the correspondence she’d not yet answered. “Ah, this one.”