Princess of Glass - Jessica Day George [58]
“But Poppy!” Christian took a step toward her. “If something’s going on, I want to help!”
“I don’t think you can,” Poppy said, so softly that he almost didn’t catch the words. “Good night.”
Strategist
The bracelet and the potion are helping Christian, but not enough,” Poppy said, her voice tense, when she entered Lord Richard’s study. “I’m sorry. It looks like Roger will need to brew more. A great deal more. It’s worn off of Dickon again as well.” She wished she had her knitting. She’d located more unbleached wool earlier, and she wanted to make Christian another charm.
Lord Richard opened his arms and Marianne went to give her father a hug. “I’m sorry your ball was rather spoiled by all this, my dear.”
“It’s all right,” Marianne said, but she swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “As long as this ends soon.”
Roger Thwaite cleared his throat. “Along those lines, Poppy, were you able to speak with Eleanora?”
Sinking down into one of the large leather chairs first, Poppy heaved a sigh. “Oh yes. She told me everything.” She stretched her legs out, wiggling her feet in their satin dancing shoes. “But only because she’s rather the worse for wear at this point. Those shoes didn’t just look like glass, they were glass. Melted onto her feet. If she wore them past midnight they would harden and probably stay on forever. And that’s just to begin with.” Poppy shook her head, not even sure how to go on.
“But where did she get the shoes?” Roger wanted to know.
“Someone—or possibly something—called the Corley contacted her,” Poppy said. “The Corley claims to be Ellen’s godmother. That’s who her mysterious patron is. In return, all Ellen has to do is dance with no one but Christian, so that he will fall in love with her and marry her.”
Seeing their stares, Poppy allowed herself a small smile. She settled back, waited until Marianne had perched herself on the arm of her father’s chair, and then told them the rest. The visits to the palace beyond the ashes, the mute servants, the curfew, everything that Ellen had passed on to her.
“What she doesn’t understand, and neither do I,” Poppy finished, “is why this Corley is so keen to have her marry Christian.” She raised one eyebrow at Lord Richard.
“Yes, Poppy, I will tell you everything I know,” he said. “But Eleanora needs to hear it as well, so if she cannot leave her bed, we’ll have to join her upstairs.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Poppy saw Roger’s cheeks turn red at the idea of seeing Ellen in her bedchamber. He was really and truly in love with her, Poppy thought. She hoped that Ellen returned his feelings and was only chasing after Christian because of the Corley’s influence. Roger was kind and good, and deserved to have his affection returned.
She got to her feet, and the rest of them followed, but Lady Margaret came in before they could leave the study. She was flushed and looked angry, and Poppy could tell that her mother’s elegant cousin was still in high dudgeon over Ella’s presence at the ball.
It was Marianne who stepped up to diffuse the situation.
“Oh, Mama! Please don’t say anything about Lady Ella!” Marianne sniffled and threw her arms around her mother’s neck. “I can’t bear to hear any more about her!”
Lady Margaret hugged Marianne, looking almost disappointed. “All right, my love, all right. Shh.”
“I’m going to take Marianne up to bed,” Poppy said, rising to take Marianne’s arm. “It’s been such a long day.”
“Yes, my dear,” Lord Richard said to his wife. “Shall I escort you to our rooms? Thwaite wanted to have a look at some of our Far Eastern art pieces. Thwaite, you go on ahead, and I’ll meet you.”
And so, with Lord Richard helping his wife, Poppy pretending to help Marianne, and Roger ducking into the parlor to look at some vases there, they made their roundabout way to the top of the house.
Poppy knocked, and when a quavering voice told them to enter they all filed in. Ellen was sitting up in her bed with the blankets folded back from her feet, which gleamed eerily in the candlelight. She looked startled