Princess of Glass - Jessica Day George [6]
Dickon took a step back, startled. “I see. Well. I thought you might be bored, sitting alone here, but it seems that you are more than capable of entertaining yourself.” He gave a little bow and started to move on. He had been hovering near Poppy’s chair, waiting to talk to Marianne, whom he had already danced with twice.
“Wait!” Poppy stretched out a hand. She was bored, and more self-conscious than she’d ever imagined she could be, and she didn’t want to have another encounter with another indignant matron like the Duchess of Hinterdale.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Er, where are you going now?”
He paused. “Well, since Marianne’s dance card is full now and you are occupied with important thoughts about breakfast meats, I thought I might take myself to the card room for a hand or two.” He nodded in the direction of a little door to one side of the ballroom. Through it, Poppy could see part of a table occupied by four men, deep in their game.
“I shall join you,” she told him with relief. She got to her feet and took his arm before she saw the shocked expression on his face. “What is the matter?”
“Young ladies don’t … I shouldn’t really … ,” he spluttered.
“Oh, nonsense! I love to play cards.”
And Poppy steered him out of the ballroom and into the rather smoky little card room, where their appearance briefly stopped all conversation. She felt a flush of regret: apparently young ladies really didn’t play cards.
“Ah, Poppy dear,” Lord Richard said, coming to her rescue. “Care to join me?” He had been standing to one side, talking to a friend and watching a game that looked to be ending. “Poppy and young Thwaite and I will take this table next, if you don’t mind, Robert. And perhaps Geoffrey will consent to make up the fourth.”
The men all agreed despite their shock at seeing a young lady in their midst, and got up as soon as the hand was finished. Robert, the winner, gathered up his chips with a bemused expression.
“Didn’t think you played anymore, Seadown,” he said.
“Ah, well, a hand or two with my lovely houseguest hardly counts as gambling deep,” Lord Richard said airily.
Poppy could tell by the look in his eyes and the surprised way that many of the men in the room were staring at Lord Richard that it was a weightier matter than he made it seem. She wondered if he had come to grief because of cards in the past. She wondered, too, if she ought to let him win.
Before marrying her two oldest sisters, Poppy’s brothers-in-law had both been common soldiers. They had taught the girls a number of things: to shoot a rifle and a pistol, make a fire, knit, cook stew, sing all twenty-eight verses of “Baden-Baden Mädchen,” and play a number of card games not normally enjoyed by young ladies.
It came as quite a surprise to her family when Poppy proved to be fairly adept at knitting. It did not surprise them, however, when she also turned out to be the best card player in the bunch. Although Poppy’s gambling had proved far less dangerous than Petunia’s fascination with bonfires, which had resulted in her chopping up one of King Gregor’s prize rosebushes for kindling.
Sitting down at the table, Poppy unbuttoned her gloves and folded them back so she could handle the cards better. She shuffled and dealt while Geoffrey and Dickon Thwaite stared in amazement. Lord Richard just chuckled.
“The princess is an uncommon young lady, you will find,” he told the others. “Oh, and forgive my manners! Poppy, this is the Honorable Geoffrey Wainwright. Geoffrey, this is Princess Poppy of Westfalin.”
“Charmed,” the Honorable Geoffrey murmured.
“Shall we set a minimum bid, gentlemen?” Poppy picked up her cards and arranged them.
“Let’s keep it small, shall we?” Lord Richard also situated his hand, and the other two scrambled to pick up their cards. “Otherwise Margaret will think I’m corrupting the innocent.”
Poppy glowered a bit at this, but Lord Richard just laughed. “Not you, my dear. But young Thwaite has only had a year at university.