The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(67)

“Welcome to our home,” said Mistress Doyle, greeting us personally at the door. Warren’s mother was a striking woman, with no gray in her black hair and a walk full of confidence. I remembered Cedric saying she’d been a baron’s daughter, and the marks of nobility still remained. The governor joined her, and he too was a handsome man, showing a strong resemblance to Warren. His whole nature was gregarious but charismatic, which seemed appropriate for a politician. He soon wandered off, more interested in talking business with other men of the colony than investigating prospective daughters-in-law.

Warren greeted us as well, but it was me he honed in on. Clara and, to my surprise, Mira both made attempts to charm him. Equally astonishing was, well, how good Mira seemed to have become at it. I couldn’t believe any man would be immune to that lovely, knowing smile of hers, but Warren was. As soon as it was polite to do so, he took my hand and led me through the party.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “I’m excited to show you my family’s home and let you meet some of Denham’s finest citizens.”

Many of the guests I’d already met at the gala and last night’s dinner, and I realized that although this get-together was for Warren’s benefit, other bachelor friends of the governor were scouting us out too.

The house was even finer than the merchant’s. I came to realize that no place in Adoria would have that old, regal feel of the elite in Osfrid. Affluence was displayed in a newer, more modern way, and once I got used to that, I could appreciate the magnificence of the Doyle estate.

“Of course we wouldn’t have anything like this right away,” Warren told me as we entered a conservatory holding a large harp and a few other instruments—great luxuries in the New World. “But I’d make sure we aren’t in some shack either. Eventually, we could achieve this level. That’s what my father did.”

“Has he been governor for long?” I asked, studying a painting. It was by Morel, a famed Lorandian artist, and Warren had acquired it while studying in that country for a year. I wondered if Cedric’s agent had considered the Doyles as potential buyers for my painting.

“Fifteen years.” It was obviously a matter of pride for Warren. “Lord Howard Davis was the governor originally appointed by the king. My father was lieutenant governor, and together, they helped establish Denham and drive out the Icori. When my father took over, he continued that legacy—making this a safe and prosperous place.”

“He’s done an excellent job,” I admitted. “Everyone knows Denham’s the most successful colony. Money and trade flow back and forth between it and Osfrid.”

Warren made a slight face. “Well, Osfrid seems to get more of the money, but—”

“Warren, dear?”

Mistress Doyle entered the room, gliding beautifully in a cream-colored satin dress. “You’ve monopolized this poor girl from the moment she entered, and there are two others to entertain. Let me take a turn and give her a break from your declarations of love.”

Both Warren and I blushed at that, but he didn’t deny it. He kissed my hand and obeyed his mother with obvious reluctance. She shook her head and gave me an indulgent smile as she linked arms with me.

“I apologize if he comes on strong,” she said.

“Not at all, Mistress Doyle,” I replied, even though it was exactly what I’d told him the night of the gala. “He’s very charming.”

“You must call me Viola. And thank you. He is charming, not that you’d know it from the scattered way he’s conducted this courtship!” We strolled back out to the main party in the drawing room, but she kept us far enough away to speak in private. “But you must understand that he’s been very anxious to wed. We had our sights set on one of the Glittering Court’s girls, but it was unclear if your ship would arrive in time.”

“When does he go to Hadisen?”

“In a little over a month.”

“That’s not a lot of time to contract a marriage.”

Viola gave me a knowing look. “Isn’t it? I hear one of you has already accepted an offer.” She smiled when I didn’t answer. “I understand your hesitation. It’s wise on your part. Marriage is binding—you want to ensure you’re making the right decision.”

“Exactly,” I said. A servant came by with champagne, but I shook my head. It was obvious both Warren and his mother had an agenda, and I didn’t want to get tipsy and accidentally agree to something. “And I’m very flattered by your son’s attentions. I just want to make sure this is good for him too—it seems like he would’ve arranged the marriage without ever meeting me.”

She gave a small laugh. “No, he’s not that far gone. If you’d seemed incompatible at your first meeting, he’d have resisted. And if I’d found anything amiss upon meeting you—I haven’t, by the way—I’d have made my objections clear.”

“Thank you.”

“But let’s be straightforward,” she continued. That apparently was a shared trait in the Doyle family. “Marriages are rarely made for love—though certainly, love can follow. Why, I’d barely laid eyes on Thaddeus before we wed. And I could scarcely believe my parents would arrange such a thing—me, a noblewoman, married to a barrister bound for the New World. But, you see, he was a rich barrister. And my family was out of money.”