The man hesitated, knowing the rules about talking to us. “No. It’s her day off. Now get back inside.”

   My heart sank. I couldn’t expect Aiana to be at my constant beck and call, but it made using her as a go-between with Grant difficult. How critical was the information about Theodore Craft? Pretty critical, if he was leaving in the morning.

   Before I could really ponder what to do with this problem, high drama swept the house when Warren Doyle, the governor of Denham’s son, arrived. Every girl in the house crowded close to the railing, trying to get a better look at the parlor meeting below. I could understand the buzz. Warren was handsome, polite, and quick to inform the Thorns that he’d actually just been appointed governor of his own new colony, Hadisen. Several girls near me clasped their hands in excitement. One offered up a prayer.

   But it was in vain because Warren had already decided on one girl and one girl only: Adelaide. A visibly eager Jasper snatched the pitch from Cedric, rather than engaging in their usual volley.

   “She is certainly incomparable,” Jasper said. Warren hadn’t just admired her from the decks; he’d also quickly learned about her excelling at every subject. Jasper again hinted that the ball was close and that Warren wouldn’t have long to wait before meeting her. Warren’s reaction was a little different than Theodore’s.

   “I don’t really need to meet her,” said Warren. “I’m sure she’s exceptional. And I’d like to seal a marriage contract now.”

   Cedric, who’d said little in the exchange, flinched. “That’s not . . . how it works. The girls meet all potential suitors in our social season. Then they choose.”

   “I don’t want to risk losing her to someone who might woo her with a lot of flash and no substance,” Warren told him. “I’ll put out a price to make it worth your while for removing her early—one I might not be willing to match if I have to wait. One thousand gold if you do the deal right now.”

   It was an unheard-of price. I heard gasps around me. Adelaide remained silent, but that was because she was holding her breath. Or maybe she just couldn’t breathe at all. I think there was a very good possibility Jasper might have changed the Glittering Court’s rules then and there if Cedric hadn’t been so adamant in his stance.

   “It would be a breach of our normal policy,” admitted Jasper. “But I’m sure, given the circumstance, there’d be no harm in her at least meeting him now and—”

   “She gets to see her options and choose,” said Cedric. “It’s in her contract. No preemptive deals.”

   The two went back and forth, even though the commission from such a match would have gone to Cedric. I wasn’t surprised at this honorable attitude. He’d made it clear at our first meeting and his visits to the manor that he wanted us to be more than commodities. He finally prevailed, though we all knew father and son would have a heated discussion later. Warren reluctantly departed—defeated, for now.

   His offer was the talk of the house that night. Many thought Cedric was foolish for turning it down. And many thought Adelaide should’ve run downstairs and accepted it herself.

   For her part, Adelaide was conflicted. She too wondered if she should’ve jumped on such an offer to such a powerful man. At the same time, she respected Cedric’s insistence that she meet all her choices. She paced our room, ruminating and weighing each side. I had little to offer except an attentive ear.

   “Tamsin would’ve taken the deal,” Adelaide finally declared.

   I couldn’t help a small smile. “Tamsin would’ve called for a priest and offered to marry him on the spot.”

   Adelaide didn’t return my smile. Her face remained bleak. “Tamsin should have been the one getting the offer. She should have been the diamond.”

   I hurried forward and wrapped my arms around her. “Don’t think like that.”

   “I just don’t feel like I deserve this.”

   “Tamsin loved you. You earned your place here.” Grant’s words on the ship echoed back to me, suddenly more meaningful. “And don’t forget that you’re still alive.”

   Warren’s proposal continued to trouble her, but at least guilt no longer factored into it. As for me, I had my own dilemma to deal with that night. What to do about Theodore Craft? It weighed on me through dinner and while preparing for bed. Adelaide went to sleep early, which was a relief. Distracted or not, she would’ve eventually noticed my inner conflict.

   A risky option suddenly presented itself while I was returning from the washroom. A maid carrying an armful of boxes passed me as she walked toward the attic door at the end of my hall. I paused and watched as she disappeared up a small set of stairs. I’d explored that area in my first few days, finding little more than storage. As soon as she returned and headed back to the main floor, I darted forward and made my own climb to the attic. Sure enough—I’d remembered correctly. A large, square window overlooked the house’s sparse rear grounds. The bodyguards rarely patrolled this side of the house, as there were no first-floor windows. They stayed near the front and sides, close to the doors. And since this window was on the third floor, it was even more neglected since there was no way to—

   I moved closer and squinted at the darkness outside. A wooden trellis leaned against the house—a delicate one, but one that might very well hold a girl’s weight. I stared at it, my mind spinning. Waiting until I saw Aiana again was the smart thing. The safe thing. But for all I knew, she had tomorrow off as well. And the next day. When would I ever get this news to Grant? No one had told me what to do in this situation.

   Decision made, I crept back to my room. Fumbling in the dark, I slipped into a light wool dress and pinned my hair back out of my face. On my way out of the room, I wrapped a robe around me, in case I encountered anyone in the hall who wanted to know why I was dressed and still awake. But there was no need. Everyone on this floor was asleep, or soon would be.