4. Leah
Leah
I’ve begged, I’ve bargained, I’ve cried and threatened.
I’ve used every tool in my arsenal over the last twelve hours to try to get my father to see reason before this suitor turns up.
Nothing has gotten him to budge. It was only when the clock struck midnight while I was pacing his study last night that he finally lost his patience with me and told me the real reason he’s letting Ada do this.
I never thought all those fucking nights he spent gambling in the gentlemen’s clubs would lead us here.
He owes Hathwell Reed money. More money than I’ve ever even seen in my lifetime.
So much that the three years’ worth of scavenger money I have hidden in the garden would barely make a dent.
In light of that, Mr. Reed’s suggestion that Nathaniel Polaris offer up his very eligible young daughter in lieu of payment seemed quite reasonable, apparently.
I could’ve hit him. I very nearly did. It was only the lost look in my father’s eyes that held me back.
It reminded me of the way he looked in the months after my mother died, before he married Ada.
I clung to that thought to stop myself completely losing my temper, focusing instead on how I could fix this.
Surely there was a way for me to shoulder this for both him and my sister.
“I looked at it every way, Leah,” he huffed pathetically as he sank into the chair in his study. “I even…” He hesitated, embarrassed. “I even asked around about those Infernum deals…”
My jaw dropped in horror. “You thought about selling your soul to a demon?” I choked out.
“Well, not my soul perhaps,” he hedged. “But you hear things about other sorts of trades…”
I tugged at my hair, not believing I’d been given such an idiot for a father. “I doubt signing a contract with the Lord of Malice would’ve solved things for anyone,” I said, my voice strangled from holding back all the choice words I really wanted to throw at him.
“Well, exactly,” he said, as if that settled the matter.
“I couldn’t go through with it in the end.
But I’m not sure this is so terrible a solution.
Evie’s not like you. She’s always seemed to quite like the idea of getting married.
And this Reed man is well positioned. His father owns Reed Mills, you know. ”
Hathwell Reed. The name seemed vaguely familiar, and I wondered if the mill name was the reason why. Either way, I hadn’t been able to come up with a counterargument. I could’ve told my father about Evie’s pregnancy, but that risked Ada finding out, and I’m still terrified what would happen then.
But is Ada’s wrath worse than what’ll happen when Evie’s new husband discovers she’s carrying another man’s child? I’ve heard horror stories of women going to prison for lesser lies to their husbands.
Evie didn’t say anything to me after Ada announced the news.
She barely spoke at all the rest of the day.
I’ve been up all night thinking about the devastation on my sister’s face when she went to bed.
She thinks there’s no way out, and I’ll admit that every solution I come up with only seems to set her on course for a worse fate.
Still, as the sunlight peaks its treacherous rays through the slats of my attic window, I’ve reached one certain conclusion: I mustn’t let Evie marry this man.
“But I took everything on Tuesday,” I say, staring at the basket of linen Ada’s directed me to drag down to the laundry house on Lowe Street.
“Well, you forgot a whole pile of things,” Ada snips, pausing near the kitchen window to check her reflection.
She’s gone all out today, preening so much in her blue gown and coiffed hair that I wonder who she thinks Hathwell’s really coming for.
“Now run along. I have better things to do than explain basic tasks to you.”
I make a show of hefting the basket into my arms and heading for the back door.
However, I don’t even make it as far as the garden gate.
Ada must think I’m a complete fool not to realize she’s trying to get me out of the house for Hathwell’s visit.
I suspect the only thing stopping her locking me up in my room for the event is the fact I’d just scream blue murder the moment they had company and embarrass her in front of Evie’s fiancé.
Fiancé. My stomach turns at the word. Normally, I’m stuck respecting Ada’s rule of law to some degree.
I’ve never wanted to test whether my father would stay loyal to me if Ada set her mind to having me disowned.
But now that I might lose Evie, all bets are off.
Ada can take her laundry and shove it, because I have an engagement tea to go to.
I drop the laundry basket by the back door and hover out of sight, waiting for the telltale noise of a carriage drawing up outside. There’s the low rumble of a man’s voice drifting in from the hallway and then the rise and fall of Ada’s greeting before I hear them move into the parlor.
I smooth my hair and straighten my skirts. The dresses I wear these days are all extremely plain, one step above a maid’s uniform. It doesn’t usually bother me, yet now I feel I should look somewhat respectable—at least until I know how I’m playing this.
As I approach the parlor door, I can hear my father speaking with Hathwell. I pause, listening to their small talk about the recent Assembly elections.
“The new chief assemblyman might be charismatic,” my father says, “but I expected Pax to choose someone with more experience to lead this city.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. Politics here is just a game for the rich and well connected to play.
The only “leadership” they show is searching for new ways to line their pockets while everyone else suffers.
I have no time for it on a good day. I can hardly believe this is the kind of nonsense my father’s choosing to talk about when he’s about to hand his daughter over to this man.
“Forgive me, sir,” Hathwell replies. “But I’d say Strickland has a lot of experience. In fact, I’d argue that as a self-made man, he’s better suited for the job than many of the Assembly’s legacy peers.”
My father chuckles. I can hear the fawning note in it from here. “That’s very modern of you, Mr. Reed.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, sir,” Hathwell replies, his tone good natured.
Well, at least he’s got backbone enough to stand up for his opinion; I count that in his favor. But I won’t learn much more about this man from behind the parlor door.
I take a deep breath and open it, marching into the room.
“How’d you do, Mr. Reed?” I say with a bright smile, offering my hand to the man seated opposite Evie. “I’m sorry, I just stepped out for a moment and then realized you’d already arrived.”
“Leah.” Ada rises from her seat. She looks thunderous, but propriety holds back the tirade she no doubt wishes she could hurl at me.
“Er, how do you do,” Hathwell says, standing to squeeze my hand, giving me a small bow and a perplexed look. “Miss…?”
“Polaris.” I smile sweetly as I cast my eye over the man, scanning him for warning signs that he’s a threat to Evie.
He’s dressed smartly. A little flashily for my tastes, with a flouncy silk necktie and shiny buttons on his coat, but I suppose it’s what’s in fashion for the gentlemen of Pax these days.
He has clear blue eyes and a dimple on his left cheek.
Despite his obvious confusion, he’s already reaching for an empty teacup and filling it for me.
So not a complete monster—on the outside anyway.
My father clears his throat, filling the awkward silence. “This is my eldest daughter, Mr. Reed,” he explains.
“The one they lock away in the attic for fear of scaring visitors,” I say. There’s a beat of tension as everyone seems lost for words, then I laugh as if I’m only joking. Hathwell just blinks at me, stunned.
“But she can’t stay, unfortunately,” Ada trills while staring daggers in my direction. “You’re a busy girl, aren’t you, Leah?”
“Not so busy I can’t spend a moment with you all,” I say cheerfully, accepting the proffered teacup from Hathwell. He steps aside to offer me his chair. He’s staring between Evie and me with a look on his face that I can’t quite parse.
“Forgive me, but I wasn’t aware you had two daughters, Mr. Polaris,” Hathwell says, running a hand through his light brown hair.
Now the surprise has gone, his eyes are sharp, calculating—maybe trying to figure out the undercurrents in our family.
If Ada wants us to come across as normal and happy, then she’s not helping herself by glaring at me like she wants to murder me right now.
In answer to her death stare, I take a sip from my tea and make myself comfortable.
“I didn’t mention it?” my father asks vaguely, and though I have much bigger problems, I can’t escape the stab of resentment that runs through me. It’s not surprising that he pretends I don’t exist outside this house, but it still stings like hell to have it confirmed.
“I’m sure you did, Mr. Polaris,” Hathwell jumps in hastily with an apologetic smile at me. “I must’ve just forgotten you telling me you had two lovely daughters, rather than one.”
It’s not true, I’m sure of it, but I think Hathwell is trying to make me feel better—to make my father look less dismissive of me. He’s trying to be kind.
“Seeing as I’m here now,” I say, still keeping my tone light, “I have to admit I have a few questions for you, Mr. Reed. Like what kind of man accepts a bride in payment for a man’s debts?”
“Leah!” Ada goes bright red. Her hand quivers in her lap, and I suspect she’s fighting the urge to throw the teacup she’s holding at my head. “That is not—”