Gold had never seen anything quite as white as Lord Avon’s face when he realized that he had lost this last round of cards. Usually, that was a look Gold enjoyed, but not this time.
This time, he was mostly angry.
When he suggested to raise the stakes to gamble for a night with Lord Avon’s daughter – a daughter he had never seen,
didn’t have any intentions to ever see and certainly didn’t intend to marry after defiling her (and, for what it was worth now,
hadn’t had any intention of defiling to begin with) – he expected the man to come to his senses and quit the game. After all, he’d already lost most of his possessions that night.
All that was left were the clothes he had on him, and his daughter (and the dress she presumably wore that very moment). Everything else now belonged to Gold.
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