The Emerald Sea by Richelle Mead
I turned to Jago, scarcely able to breathe. I’d struggled so hard to get my companions to Cape Triumph the moment we set foot in Adoria, and suddenly, just like that, it was going to happen. “Jago...I can’t believe you’d do this. I don’t know what to say! Thank you, thank you so much! And if there is a loss in profit—”
He dismissed my worries with a wave of his hand, his eyes shining as he regarded me. I wanted to leap forward and throw my arms around him. “Don’t worry about it. Two weeks won’t matter. And besides, the numbers should work out so that I can come along on the first run and get things in place. I’ll have Arnaud accompany the rest of the goods.”
“Don’t get carried away,” warned Roger gruffly. “You may be free and on your own, Tamsin, but those other girls are still under our protection and aren’t leaving without a proper escort. I don’t know if that can happen in a week.”
I looked to Lieutenant Harper for help. “There’s an argument that the older girls could come or go as they wanted,” he said, “but you’ve got some young ones there too, right? Sixteen? Seventeen? As much as I think they should be allowed to go, they should still be answering to their guardians. I’ll personally assist in accompanying them to Cape Triumph, if that helps, Mister Sackett.”
“And I’ll go too,” said Gideon. “I’m sure if we can just get a couple more from Constancy to chaperone, that should be adequate.”
“I’ll also go back with you two to help get everyone here—we can go right away,” Jago suggested. Roger still looked dubious, but he knew when to concede. The four of them fell into planning the logistics, and I was happy enough to dance. After obstacle upon obstacle, things were finally getting back on track. I was going to Cape Triumph, and my friends were too. We’d be free of the Heirs at last. I’d be there in plenty of time for Merry!
Almost. The feel of Jago’s kiss lingered on my lips, and his words echoed in my head: I’m crazy about you—I have been since you walked through my door. Watching him as he talked numbers with Roger, I felt a tightness in my chest. Jago was not falling into place with any of this, because he had no place. He never had. We both understood that, and yet he’d still just made a considerable concession to help my friends—except I knew it was really for me. Maybe missing two weeks of the trading season wasn’t a lot, but for someone scraping against debt the way he was, it still could’ve been an edge. And he’d given it up.
I wanted a chance to talk to him, but he got swept up with preparations that I couldn’t help with. My turn for leadership would come when my friends arrived, but for now, I had to bide my time.
* * *
Though he’d been busy too, I did get an unexpected opportunity to speak with Gideon later in the day when I spied him eating alone in the dining hall. I walked in and sat down across from him, eliciting a glad smile.
“I thought you’d be holed up with the others,” I said.
“We’ve finished what we can do before we go to Constancy. Jacob is off discussing weights and measures with the Icori now, and Roger’s praying no heretics will come for him in his sleep.”
“Are you doing okay?” I asked, noting his plate of food was mostly untouched.
His smile turned rueful. “As okay as I can be having what I thought I understood ripped apart before my eyes.”
“You mean about Jago and the medicine?”
“Yes. To be deceived like that, it’s like everything I thought was beautiful and good in Constancy has fallen away into . . . a black void. That sounds melodramatic, I suppose. But I still can’t believe it—that the council would refuse aid and cover it all up.”
“There is some good in Constancy.” My words came out a little haltingly, given my personal experiences.
“I know. But it doesn’t change what’s happened. I gave the council my loyalty, my friendship, and my trust. And they were knowingly lying to me, using me to further what they wanted. And what they did to you . . . they didn’t order it, exactly, but they allowed Dinah to initiate it. I swear, I didn’t know, Tamsin. If I had—”
“It’s okay. I’m fine, and things have worked out.”
“I can’t go back,” he blurted out. “I mean, I can physically go back to Constancy, temporarily, for any loose ends. But I can’t back to that world—to the Heirs.”
“Gideon . . .” I studied his face and saw how earnest it was. This wasn’t a rash decision born from the earlier spat with Roger. “You gave up everything in Osfrid to sail here and be with the Heirs. What happened to Uros calling you? To you wanting a purer, principled life?”
“I’m still called, and I still want that. But it’s not going to be with the Heirs. It’s not going to be with the orthodox either. Maybe no one’s way is my way. Maybe I have to create my own.”
There was such strength and conviction in his words that I truly believed he would find his way. I was reminded of some of our earlier conversations, when he’d described his faith so passionately that I could understand why he was so driven.
“You’ll figure it out, Gideon. I believe in you.”
He lifted his gaze from the bread he’d been poking at. “You’ve always believed in me, Tamsin, even when I didn’t believe in myself. You—” His blue-gray eyes scrutinized me a few more moments, and then he glanced away again. “Well. Anyway. I can’t quite bring myself to ride back two days with Roger. I’ll see if Jacob will let me ride with him.”
It wasn’t until later that evening that I finally caught up with Jago. He came to see me in my room, and we threw ourselves at each other the instant the door shut. Without a pause in kissing, we staggered back into the room and onto the rug before the fire. My yearning for him was driven both by the happy affection surging in my heart and the desire crackling through my body. I hadn’t had a glimmer of interest in anything physical with anyone since Harry, and I’d almost thought I was incapable of it—like maybe he’d ruined it for me. But I came alive now, suddenly feeling as though I could never touch or kiss Jago enough.
“You’re just being nice to me because of the river passage,” he teased at one point, lying on his side, half propped up with his elbow. With his other hand, he traced the neckline of my dress and walked his fingers up to my cheek, where he brushed stray strands of hair away.
“I’m nice to lots of people,” I shot back. “And believe me, I’m not rolling about and kissing them.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to think you were doing it out of pity or obligatory gratitude.”
I sat up and gave him a long, lingering kiss on his lips. “I am terribly grateful, though. It’s a relief to know the others are taken care of. Now I can focus on Merry. I feel so much closer to her now—like she’s within reach.”
“She is.” He shifted up too and straightened his shirt. No one’s clothing had come off, but it was certainly less tidy than it had been before. “I like that name. Why did you name her that?”
I gazed across the room, but it was the past I saw. “Her full name’s Meredith, but I always planned on calling her Merry. There was so much heartache and strife in the time leading up to her birth. I picked the name as a sort of reminder to myself that things were going to change—that I was going to make them change.”
“Was . . . was her father ever involved?”
“Aside from the obvious? No. We had no contact until right before I signed with Jasper. My family was about to collapse under the bills, so I finally went to him and asked for money. Do you know what he said to me? ‘I’m very sorry for you and your child, but you got yourself into this. You’ll have to get yourself out of it.’ Who says something like that? It made me realize I was right to have stayed away. Merry’s better off with no father in her life than one like that.”
“From what you’ve said, she’s got plenty of other people to love her.”
My heart lightened a little. “Yes. And she might as well have two fathers, with th
I leaned into him, and we sat quietly for several minutes, watching the fire. He stroked my hair, and I traced circles on his palm. When Jago stifled a yawn, I lifted my head and laughed. “Sorry, is this boring?”
“No.” He tipped my face upward and pressed his lips to my forehead. “But it’s been a long day. I should get to bed soon.”
We kissed again and then some more before I was able to break away and ask, “Do you want to go to bed here?”
There was a slight intake of breath as he searched my face. Firelight cast golden glimmers in his eyes, which were filled with open longing. “You know I do. But . . . I can’t, not when I don’t have anything to offer you.”
“You didn’t have anything earlier either.” I rested my palms on his chest. “But you were willing to go to my bed then.”
“I know, I know. And I get that there’s this unspoken agreement that there is no agreement, but . . .” He put his hands over mine. “You deserve more.”
“Like a payment? This isn’t some ‘amazing deal’ we’re striking. The only thing I want right now is you.”
“I know—I didn’t mean to make it sound conditional. I just need to think some things over.”
“Jago—”
“Tamsin. This isn’t an easy thing for me to turn down, believe me.” He kissed my forehead again. “We can talk more later—it’s a long trip. But let me go now while I’ve still got the willpower.”
Disappointment filled me, and his show of principles only made the yearning that much worse. I had a feeling that willpower might crumble with a little more pushing, but I couldn’t do that to him. He talked about me deserving more, but what about him? Who was I to ask for a night together after having made it blatantly clear I’d soon be on my way to spend my life with someone else?
“Okay. Get your rest, then. But I’m going to hold you to that bit about it being a long trip.”
The tension in his face melted into a cheerful grin. “I’d expect nothing less. I’ll see you in the morning.”
After a very lengthy kiss goodbye, he finally dragged himself away. I sat on my bed and sighed, filled with an array of emotions. I’d been there about five minutes when Shirsha knocked at the door and told me Orla wanted to see me. Puzzled by the late hour, I followed with trepidation and was taken to a small sitting room adjacent to Orla’s own bedroom.
She sat in a chair near the fire, clad in a dressing robe, combing out her long hair. Seeing me, she said, “Ah, Tamsin. Thank you for coming. I was curious: Did you know Jago Robinson is about to give up everything in his world for you?”
CHAPTER 26
WHEN I ANSWERED WITH ONLY A BLANK STARE, ORLA motioned me to sit across from her with a graceful wave of her hand.
“What do you mean?” I asked, once I’d recovered myself.
She set the comb down and leaned back, a small smile playing at her lips despite her grave eyes. “If we ever get a moment, I’ll have to show you my horses. Lovely little things—black, with ivory manes. A couple of years back, I saw some like them, traveling among Lorandian traders. They weren’t for sale, and their owner told me they were hard to obtain. He said—with some skepticism—that to buy my own, I’d need a genius tradesman. So, I located one, and he got me the horses.”
“Jago told me that’s how you met,” I said. “But what does that have to do with what’s happening now?”
“My horses were hard to get in Adoria. Jago’s silvers were very hard to get. And the one he’s boarding in the south? Nearly impossible.”
“Felicia. I thought she was his sweetheart when we first met.”
That broadened Orla’s smile, though her somber demeanor remained. “I’m sure it seems that way. Between her and the silvers, my understanding is that he’s setting himself up very nicely to make a fortune in raising specialty horses. He’s got a good head for what’s going to be in demand and a good heart for taking care of animals. He just needs to pay down the debt for them and his land a little bit more.” The wry smile dimmed. “So, you can imagine my surprise when he came to me earlier and asked if I was interested in buying the silvers.”
I leaned forward. “Pebble and Dove? He wouldn’t! He loves those horses.”
“Apparently not as much as he loves you.”
“But no . . .” That was as far as I got with any sort of coherent response in my shocked state.
“But yes. When I declined, he offered to sell me Felicia instead.”
“What? I . . . don’t understand. Why would he do that?”
“He said he wants to marry you.”
I opened my mouth but couldn’t manage a single word this time.
Orla shrugged. “I gather he needs a large sum of money quickly? Or rather, you do?”
I slumped back and clutched the couch’s fabric, as though that might stop the world from spinning. “I can’t believe this.”
“So you do need money. Or . . . you want the money?” Her eyes scrutinized me in that cunning way of hers. “I understand you’ve come here to marry well, but maybe you could make yourself stick it out and live humbly a while? Assuming you love him back.”
“You bloody well know I do!” The words came out before I could stop them, and I straightened up again. “And it’s not about forcing myself to make a sacrifice to humble living! All I’ve ever done is live humbly!”
She took my outburst calmly, knowing my outrage wasn’t directly targeted at her. “Well. I figured there must be more to it. Jago doesn’t strike me as the type to upend all of his plans to impress a woman—though he’s certainly no stranger to extreme actions when he thinks it’s truly called for.”
“Like the medicine,” I murmured, still stunned.
“Like the medicine. He didn’t waver about risking the stocks then, and he didn’t waver when I questioned him now.”
I blinked and focused back on her. “Stocks?”
“Didn’t he tell you that? It was his punishment for selling us Constancy’s bitterroot.”
“I thought he paid a fine.”
“I think he did both. I’m sure he can tell you more about it later.”
“I don’t know. Apparently he doesn’t tell me much of anything! Are you sure this horse sale was for me?” I didn’t really need her nod to confirm it. I felt sick to my stomach, upset that he’d make this sacrifice . . . and yet, hopeful that it could actually work. “He can’t sell them. You said you told him no, so that’s that.”
“Oh, there are others he can go to. Perhaps not in Kerniall, but if he’s determined to find a buyer, he will. I confess, if we didn’t have the possibility of war looming on the horizon, I might have been tempted. But I can’t spend that much money on my own indulgence.”
“What happens if he does sell them?”
“Well, he loses the breeding stock to establish a specialty ranch. He has other horses, I know—more common ones—so maybe he could do something less lucrative with them. I’m not sure how it would play into his land in Denham.”
“His land? He talked like he was only leasing something there.”
“He is—but he’s also in a complex arrangement to eventually own it. He makes payments on it, and that’s where the rest of his debt is coming from. It’s a huge amount of land, with a huge price. The loan is backed by the understanding that his racing enterprise has enormous potential.”
“Not if he doesn’t have any horses!”
“Maybe he can race some of his common ones? I guess it depends on if you’re bringing in any debt.”
I caught the unspoken question. “Yes. I don’t know how it’d match up to a horse sale, but it’d cost a lot if he—that is, if we . . .” I looked down at my hands, unable to continue. What costs was he taking into consideration? My marriage fee, certainly. Merry’s medicine and extra expenses.
“I don’t k
Sparks flew up from the fire as logs shifted. I watched them a few moments and then slumped onto the couch. “A long time ago, there was a young man that—things didn’t work out with. I know now he never had any intention of making them work. But at the time, when it first fell apart, I’d been certain that we could be together if he was willing to sacrifice certain parts of his life. Yes, it would shock his peers. Yes, it would anger his father. But that’s what love is, right? Doing anything for the other person? It devastated me that he couldn’t. I hated him for not loving me enough to keep us together, no matter what. Then I just hated him because he was an ass.” I lingered on that memory a moment and then lifted my gaze from the fire to Orla. “Now, here’s someone who is willing to make a sacrifice for me—an even bigger one—and I’m devastated again. Jago’s built his dream from the ground up, holding on to something most would have lost as a childhood fancy.”
“And it’s his choice to let it go—or to postpone it,” she said.
“But my participation in this isn’t his choice.” I turned to the fire again, but didn’t really see it. My mind’s eye was back with Jago, back when we’d been kissing, and I’d invited him to spend the night.
I can’t stay, not when I don’t have anything to offer you.
“I can’t let him give up his future,” I said, recalling the way his eyes glowed when he spoke about raising horses. “We can’t.”
Orla arched an eyebrow. “We?”
“He’s your friend. You can’t want to see him throw away everything he’s worked for.”
“No . . . but I also don’t want to see him throw you away! I want him to be happy. And I think . . . I think you could make him happy.” She ran a hand through her hair, messing up what she’d so neatly combed. “And I think he could make you happy too. You know, I recommended him to you when we met, not just because he could help but because I thought you two would connect—not like this, of course. But you both have an innate drive to help people, often going to extremes you don’t fully realize the consequences of.”