Princess of Glass - Jessica Day George [59]
“I’m sorry,” she said softly to no one in particular.
“Not at all, my dear,” said Lord Richard. He gestured for Poppy and Marianne to sit on the other bed, and leaned back casually against one of the walls. “As young as you are, and in your situation, it is no surprise that you were taken in by the Corley. Older and wiser people than you have made terrible bargains with that creature.”
“Oh really?” Eleanora’s voice was more bleak than interested.
“Oh yes,” Lord Richard said. “People like your father. And myself.”
Without even waiting for them to all stop gasping, Lord Richard plunged right into his story.
“I inherited the earldom from my father when I was only twenty-two. I was traveling abroad for a year after university, and I came home to find the old man gone, myself an earl, and a pile of debts I hardly knew what to do with. My father could never resist a business venture; he positively threw money at every ship’s captain, explorer, and inventor who darkened his doorway. None of them ever amounted to anything, and he’d come to selling off family heirlooms, furniture, art—all for a fraction of what they were worth—just to send more money to these diamond hunters and steam-engine builders.”
Lord Richard shook his head sadly. “I was about to sell the country estate—I had no other choice—and was taking a ride around the grounds one last time. There’s a stream that runs into a pool at the bottom of the park, and just as I stopped to water my horse the stream turned green. I started to back away, but then I heard a voice telling me exactly what I wanted to hear: that my fortune was about to change, that I wouldn’t have to sell the estate, that I could buy back our heirlooms. This benefactress, called the Corley, would make sure my luck ran high, and with a few hands of cards I would be wealthier than I’d ever dreamed.”
There was silence in the room. Lord Richard stared at the worn floorboards, Marianne had her mouth open, Roger looked shocked, and Eleanora’s eyes were as round as an owl’s.
“What was the catch?” Poppy clasped her hands on her knees. “There’s always a catch.” She knew this for certain. After all, her mother’s bargain with a creature of the underworld had resulted in her bearing twelve girls that the King Under Stone then tried to steal away for his sons to marry.
“The catch? First off, I helped to ruin your father, Eleanora, for which I am sorrier than anything else I have ever done in my life.” Lord Richard smiled at the girl, not his usual rakish smile that made him seem years younger, but a hard, grim, sad smile. “When he tried to recover some of his fortune through cards, I was told to play against him over and over again, until he had not a farthing left to his name. And I did, heaven help me.”
He coughed uncomfortably and stared over their heads at the wall. “After I’d restored the estate, bought back the things Pa had sold off, I invested some money and looked to get away from the Corley. I was married, we had Marianne, and Margaret didn’t like my gambling, you see. For a time I told myself it was all to restore the family name, and then to provide for Margaret and our daughter, but the truth was that I could have found other ways to make money, could have stopped much sooner.
“I was sick to death with what I had done. I no longer wished to play cards, ever again, and I told the Corley so.”
“And she let you go?” Eleanora’s soft voice was hopeful.
“Of course not!” A bitter laugh. “She flew into a towering rage! She said that Margaret had ruined me, that we were not fit to raise a child …” He closed his eyes and whispered, “And she demanded that I give her Marianne.”
“What?” Marianne clutched the iron bedstead, her face white.
“Clearly I refused,” Lord Richard said, laying a gentle hand on his daughter’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “She said that you would be pampered and adored, raised as a princess, and one day be married to a prince.”
“Why do these creatures always want to marry somebody off?” It