Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(97)

“Her ladyship thanks you for your consideration,” said Mr. Sloan, dipping his chin.

“In summary,” said Lord Coy, “Celestina, known as Cettie Pratt, willingly joined the woman declaring herself as Lady Corinne Lawton of Pavenham Sky, who was, as the record now shows, an imposter by the legal name of Christina Towers . . .” The judge went on to describe, in brief, all that had occurred since, but Cettie found her thoughts wandering. The legal talk made her story feel like something that had happened to another person altogether. A tale completely bereft of emotion.

She snapped back to attention when Mr. Sloan gently tapped her arm. He glanced toward the judge, his message obvious. Her attention was once again required. The verdict was about to be announced. Lord Coy folded his hands together, leaning forward on his desk. “All charges against Miss Cettie have been withdrawn. As the natural daughter of Christina Towers, Miss Cettie is considered a full member of the empire, entitled to all its privileges and rules of adoption.

“Lord and Lady Fitzroy have pursued the rights of adoption for many years and were only barred because they lacked the consent of Mr. Pratt, who now holds no legal rights over her whatsoever. The motion to adopt her has now been granted, and the Ministry of Thought has given its permission for Miss Cettie to be bound to the Fitzroy family by irrevocare sigil. Once the ceremony has been performed at the abbey of their choice, her legal name will henceforth be Cettie Fitzroy.”

The magistrate smiled at her as Cettie’s eyes widened. She could hardly breathe and stifled a sob. She’d expected she might face punishment, imprisonment or exile or worse, for her part in the events of the last months. She hadn’t expected this . . . But judging by the pleased expression of her mother and Mr. Sloan, they had been keeping this secret from her.

Lord Coy tilted his head. “It is my understanding, Lady Maren, that your son, Lord Stephen, has agreed to act as proxy for his father in the ceremony?”

“I have,” said a voice from behind them.

Cettie hadn’t known he would be there, and she twisted in her chair, gasping when she saw Stephen, Anna, Phinia, and Milk were all seated in the row of seats behind her. They had slipped in without her noticing. Her throat was so constricted she couldn’t speak, but she smiled at them. Then she saw Adam, sitting farther in the back, as if he wasn’t quite sure he belonged. A congratulatory smile lit up his face. She blinked quickly, struggling to contain the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

“This is by order of the Ministry of Law and the Ministry of Thought. The adoption decree has been approved. This court is now adjourned. Congratulations, young lady.”

Cettie turned and embraced Mother, squeezing her. She felt wet tears on her cheek, not her own but Lady Maren’s.

“How long have you known?” Cettie said, choking on her words.

“Sera wanted it all done legally. She could have ordered it so, but she felt that a trial would do more to appease your conscience than anything else we might do.” She caressed Cettie’s cheek.

The other family members came around the barrier, and Cettie hugged them one by one. Even Phinia seemed sincere in her congratulations.

“Do you know what abbey you would prefer?” Stephen asked her after embracing her. “You get to decide.”

“Muirwood,” Cettie said without hesitation.

Stephen’s eyes crinkled. “I thought so. We’ll make the arrangements. I’m glad you’ll be my sister at last.”

She felt a rush of warmth. Once again, she reflected on how proud she was of the man he’d become. Stephen had stepped into his role as the leader of the family, and he wore it well.

“I think someone else is waiting their turn,” Stephen said, giving a subtle nod toward Adam Creigh, who waited at the barrier patiently, his palms resting on the wood.

Anna turned to look, and when she saw him, she walked over and put her hand on Adam’s. She said something to him, and he nodded. Butterflies fluttered in Cettie’s chest. Were they about to announce their engagement? If so, she would bear it. She would be happy for them, no matter how much her heart hurt for what could have been. Then Anna left him and joined their mother, pausing only to squeeze Cettie’s hand, and Cettie knew the time had come for her to greet him.

“I’m happy for you,” he said as she approached him at the barrier.

“Thank you,” Cettie replied, feeling her cheeks growing warm. “And thank you for coming.”

“If you have time in the coming days, I would like to show you the hospital,” he said. “But I’ll admit I have selfish motives. I’ve studied the cholera morbus for years and am no closer to discovering how to stop it. I hoped . . . if you’re willing . . . to share the information I’ve collected with you. I haven’t forgotten how you and Fitzroy discovered the storm glass together. Perhaps you might see something I haven’t. I would be grateful if you’d come.”

“Of course,” Cettie said. “I doubt I’d be much help, but I’m willing to learn.”

Lady Maren approached them. “She can borrow the zephyr tomorrow and come to you in the morning?”

“That would be ideal,” Adam said. “I look forward to it. Come as early as you like.”



Cettie visited Killingworth every day for the next week and soon was known throughout the hospital as Dr. Creigh’s particular friend. The building had once been a manor house, though it had been refurbished to make it suitable as a hospital. She was impressed by the order, the rhythm of it, and especially Adam’s insistence that whoever came there was treated, regardless of their ability to afford it. No one was turned away. With the empress as his patron, he did not lack for funds. Cettie learned that another hospital, similar to it, had been chartered in the City.