The Earl Not Taken Page 17

  “I am sorry to have caused you any pain.” What needed to be said could not happen sitting at a public table and speaking in hushed tones. It would have to wait.

  After dinner they all retired to the parlor where card tables had been set out for whist. He rounded out a foursome with Poppy, Aurora, and Garrett. “Rora, I didn’t think you liked cards.”

  “I hate them, but I couldn’t think of how to get out of the entertainment.” She wore a brown gown that made her fade into the décor rather than gleam like the flower she was. Most days in the country she had rejected the darkest colors traditional to mourning.

  Rhys could not wait for her bereavement period to be over.

  “Why have you returned to such dark mourning clothes?” Garrett dealt the cards.

  Aurora sighed. “It seems my lighter, more comfortable dresses were offensive to our hostess.”

  Poppy ground her teeth, making a crunching sound.

  “She said that?” Rhys wanted to give that overbearing witch a piece of his mind.

  “Not in those words, but the point was clear.” Poppy examined her cards.

  Garrett’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “It is a miracle Faith became such a sweet woman.”

  “What did you say, Rora?” Rhys couldn’t believe his sister would be silent after such an insult.

  A giggle that reminded him of when Aurora was a girl escaped from behind her hand. “There was no need for my response. Poppy took care of the situation.”

  When they all turned to Poppy, there was a regal tilt to her chin. Shoulders back, expression serene, and lips pursed, she looked quite pleased with herself a she tossed out a card.

  A grin broke out on Garrett’s face. “What did you say, Poppy?”

  She shrugged. “I merely pointed out a few of her ladyship’s flaws.”

  “Such as…” Rhys’s gut filled with a bubble of anticipation.

  Poppy eyed him. “I know you will find this shocking, but our hostess slurps when she drinks tea; passes wind when she thinks she can blame one of those silly dogs of hers; wears gowns several years too young for her; pastes bits of hair into her own, creating a nest of ratting old hair; treats her lady’s maid like a slave; and bullies her daughter, who is an angel on earth. I felt it my duty to point these and a few other things out while she was forcing us to listen to one of her sermons.”

  A loud bark of laughter flew from Garrett’s lips, and he kept right on laughing. Taking Poppy’s hand, he kissed it. “You are a treasure.”

  Aurora hid her smile. “Yes, but there is not likely to be any more invitations from this house.”

  “We shall find other means of entertainment,” Poppy assured her.

  Full of love and admiration, Rhys said, “Then you don’t regret what you said?”

  She shook her head. “For once in my life, I didn’t stumble over any words or say the wrong thing at the wrong time. It was the one instance when my bad habit came in handy. She deserved every word.”

  A footman entered with a note on a silver tray. He approached Breckenridge. “Your Grace, this just came by special messenger.”

  Nicholas read the message, frowned, and stood. “Is the messenger still here?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. He’s below in the kitchen having something to eat.”

  Nodding, Nicholas said, “I’ll have a letter for him to take on his return. Be sure to have him wait.”

  With a bow, the footman rushed from the room.

  “I hope nothing is amiss, Your Grace.” Lady Dornbury folded her cards and placed them on the table. She grinned like a woman enjoying the idea she would soon be the mother-in-law to a duke.

  “Nothing to concern yourself with, madam. Some business in town needs my attention. However, I will have to depart tonight.” Nicholas stepped back from the table and bowed.

  Faith’s eyes narrowed. “Tonight. But, Your Grace, we are all departing tomorrow. Surely this business of yours can wait a few hours, so you can join us for the trip.”

  It was bold for Faith to say so much in such a public setting. She tended toward demure in general society.

  Nicholas grimaced. “I apologize, my lady, but I’m afraid I must leave almost immediately.”

  Most ladies in Faith’s position would have smiled politely and wished him well. Faith was not most ladies. Without another glance at him, she studied her cards and pursed her lips. “Go then, if you wish.”

  Any progress the Duke of Breckenridge had made with his perspective bride had just been lost, and he perhaps slipped further from her grace.

  Rhys felt for him, but what business could be so critical it couldn’t wait until morning? Leaving in the dark of night to attend to something was highly unusual. Perhaps Rhys had been too quick to accept the vague explanations about Breckenridge’s time in France for the Crown. Just because a man worked on the right side of a political line didn’t mean he was a good fit for a friend. Strange as it was, these Wallflowers were his friends and family. He’d not let another of them suffer.

  The host and hostess saw Nicholas to the door a short time later.

  Poppy’s eyebrows were raised in question as she gazed across the table at him. “That was interesting. Don’t you think so?”

  “I’m sure there is a very reasonable explanation.” Rhys hated half-truths, but this was no place for a debate on the subject.

  “I think I’ve had enough cards for one night.” Poppy stood, disappointment burning in her eyes.

  “We’ve hardly started,” Garrett complained.

  Aurora stood as well. “Let’s take a turn around the room, Poppy.”

  The ladies strolled arm in arm around the perimeter of the room. They whispered their secrets too softly to be overheard.

  Rhys missed being in their confidence and longed for the time they’d spent together at Geb Arafa’s home, where they’d become friends.

  “Well that’s it for whist.” Garrett scooped up the dealt cards and shuffled the deck. “I learned a quaint game for two in Spain, if you’d care to learn.”

  Shrugging, Rhys pulled his attention away from Poppy. “I suppose a new game is in order.”

  Garrett dealt the cards.

  Chapter 13

  Poppy did her best to ignore Rhys for the entire ride, which was not really possible. She was completely and annoyingly in tune to every sound and movement of the man. Faith had to ride with her parents, so it was Aurora, Mercy, and Poppy in Rhys’s carriage for the two-day ride home.

  They had stopped at a coaching inn for the night and had one more night of dinner together as a party. Luckily, she was able to sit at the other end of the table and not be forced into any kind of politeness when she wanted a fight.

  How he could have turned to Breckenridge’s side, she couldn’t fathom. Men always took each other’s part—that was true. But Rhys had seemed to really care about what happened to the Wallflowers right up until his loyalty was tested; then he wavered. She sighed and watched the passing buildings as they entered London.

  Yet she could not deny that information given in confidence should be kept private. It was all very confusing.

  “Poppy, what do you think?” Aurora startled her out of her thoughts.

  “I’m afraid I was lost in thought. What were you saying?”

  Mercy rolled her eyes. “We were speaking about meeting at George’s tomorrow to determine what our next step should be.”

  It took an act of will not to look at Rhys. He watched as if he hung on her every word. It was maddening to both want and not want his attentions. “I’m happy to meet, but the decision must be Faith’s. She seemed quite put out the other night. She may have decided irrevocably against Breckenridge.”

  “Perhaps, but I think she was beginning to like him.” Aurora fisted her gloves in her lap and gestured with them as she spoke.

  “It would be a shame if she had decided against him, but as you say, the decision must be Faith’s. She must know what she wants or doesn’t want.” Rhys spoke as if the matter was not worrisome, but his gaze was fixed on Poppy.

  The certainty he was speaking of more than the situation between her friend and Breckenridge stirred butterflies in Poppy’s stomach. She refused to think about what she wanted. It was decided a long time ago marriage was not for her, and she couldn’t waver at the first sign of masculine attention.

  The thing was, it wasn’t the first sign. In the last three years many men had shown interest in her title and her dowry. London never lacked for men hoping to increase their coffers through marriage, even if the lady was awkward and clumsy.

  Rhys didn’t need her dowry. He had far more than she and could have made a bid for her many years ago. It wasn’t until they’d been intimate that he’d felt some obligation to ask for her hand. His sense of duty demanded he ask.

  Imagine his relief at her refusal. However, he hadn’t looked relieved. Sorrow and disappointment had cried out from his sunken expression the night she’d stolen into his room.

  Her musings would have to wait as they pulled to a stop in front of the West Lane townhouse.

  Rhys stepped down first then helped Mercy and Aurora down before turning into the carriage to capture her gaze. Worry creased his brow. “I believe your mother is here, Poppy.”

  Heart in her throat, she gasped. “Why, what, how do you know?”

  Accepting his hand, she stepped down on shaking knees. Parked in front of them was her family carriage with the Merkwood crest emblazoned on the door. Poppy’s stomach lurched, and her heart lodged in her throat. What on earth could her mother be doing at West Lane? This didn’t bode well.

  Aurora threaded her arm through hers, and they all climbed the stairs to the front door together.

  As bad as this might be, at least she had her friends. Even Rhys’s presence was a comfort. She would have thought he’d have dropped them off and gone to his own home, but as they entered the house, he stayed with them.

  “Welcome home, ladies. The Countess of Merkwood is waiting in the parlor. She has been here for nearly an hour,” Tipton, the butler, informed them.

  “Thank you, Tipton. We’ll go in directly.” Aurora handed him her hat and gloves.

  They all foisted their outerwear at Tipton, who balanced the mound without a word. His bushy eyebrow rose when Poppy thanked him.

  The grand parlor was far different from the sanctuary where the Wallflowers had always met. This was a formal room to greet guests in the style of Radcliff. Dark woods, austere curtains pulled precisely halfway across floor-to-ceiling windows. The dark furniture and rug absorbed the light. Poppy had only been in the room a few times, and it always set her nerves on edge.

  Gwendolyn Arrington, Countess of Merkwood, didn’t bother to stand. Her dark hair had just a touch of gray above the temple where it was pulled into a loose bun. No curls were left out to soften the look. She was dressed in a dark blue day dress with a lace collar.

  Mother’s eyes narrowed on the foursome. “I have been waiting half the morning.”

  “If you had told someone you were coming,” Poppy began, “or waited until we were at home, Mother, you would not have had to wait.” Mother’s sense of superiority set Poppy’s nerves on edge.

  “I will speak with my daughter alone.” The command in her voice might have sent another party of ladies running, but her friends held their ground, waiting for more information.

  “You can have nothing to say that my friends cannot hear, Mother.” Poppy grasped for some safety net.

  “Manners, Penelope. Is that anyway to greet your mother?” Her double standard had always miffed Poppy.

  “As you didn’t bother to say hello or greet the lady of this house, I saw no reason to bother with manners, Mother.”

  If daggers could have flown from Gwendolyn’s eyes, they would all four be bleeding on the carpet. “Fine. I see your point. Lady Radcliff, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Miss Heath, good to see you as well. Would the two of you mind excusing us? I have some very serious business to discuss with my daughter.”

  Mercy and Aurora were both wide eyed.

  Rhys stood stoically watching.

  Aurora recovered first. “Nice of you to pay a call, my lady.”

  With a round of curtsies, the ladies left. Each gave Poppy a sympathetic look as they abandoned her to her fate.

  “My lord, you should stay.” The show for the other ladies over, Mother studied her nails for a long moment. The hint of a grin tugged at her lips.

  Rhys bowed. “Of course, madam.”

  Mother returned to the settee where she’d been when they arrived. Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead, and she ogled at Poppy as if she were a cat that just made off with the first course.

  Waiting near a chair, Rhys couldn’t sit until Poppy did, and Poppy was not sure she was willing to find out what it was that put her mother in a mood between furious and gleeful. Danger emanated from her, a beacon of destruction.

  “Well?” Mother pointed toward the other chair facing the settee.

  Unable to think of a way out of the room short of running and screaming like a maniac, Poppy trudged over and sat.

  Rhys kept his gaze on Mother, and he sat as well.

  Mother’s attention shifted between the two of them, and though there was a glint in her eye, she forced a deep frown. “It has come to my attention the two of you spent two days and nights together without the benefit of a chaperone.”

  The world around Poppy started spinning too fast. Mother’s words bounced around in her head like a wild horse bucking his saddle. “What are you talking about, Mother?”

  “Do not toy with me, Penelope. I know you got in a carriage with this unmarried man and left the city. Some kind of weather kept you from returning, but that is of no consequence. The fact still remains you were two days and nights with a man unchaperoned. If word got around town, and it will, you would be ruined and your father and I shamed. We wouldn’t be able to show our faces in good society again.”

  It was impossible for her mother to know this. No one knew. Could Geb have sent a letter to her mother? Why would he do such a thing? “Mother, you really are making more of this than is necessary.”

  “Am I?” She elongated the words.

  “Yes. We planned to come directly back, but there was flooding and we couldn’t return. There is no need for you to have come here with so much dramatics.” Poppy liked the sound of that. She was a grown woman and could make her own decisions.

  Rhys was strangely quiet. He fixated on the carpet as if he were not in the conversation.

  Turning away from Poppy, Mother focused on Rhys. “What are you going to do about this situation, my lord?”

  “I will marry her.” His voice was even and his tone steady. He continued to look at the carpet.

  “What!” Poppy’s brain was close to exploding. She replayed the last few seconds, and no matter how she spun it, Rhys had agreed to do the very thing that she dreaded most.

  “Well, fine then.” Mother smiled as if all was well and nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  Whatever sense Poppy had come into the room with had flown right out that giant window with its horrid draperies. The walls of the room closed in on her, and her mother suddenly looked like some villain in a children’s fable. It would come as no surprise if Gwendolyn Arrington grew horns and a tail before rising to forty feet tall and devouring them both.

  At any moment sense would be made of this madness and Rhys would laugh and take his words back, but it didn’t happen.

  Poppy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from flying into a rage. “I will not be forced to marry you or anyone. You, my lord, should understand. How dare you make that offer knowing how I feel. How dare you take her side.” She pointed at Mother. “She is a puppet led around by the strings held by a rich, horrible man who couldn’t bother to come here himself.”

  Mother’s expression remained calm, though she frowned at the pointing finger. “Your father knows nothing about this. Though I’m sure Lord Marsden will want to go and ask his permission to marry you.”

  “I will speak to his lordship today.” Rhys’s voice was strong and void of emotion.

  Unable to continue, Poppy stood. Her heart raced. Her body shook and her knees were weak. “I will not marry you or anyone else.”

  Rhys rose as she did. He reached out a hand to steady her.

  Poppy pulled away from his touch. She met his gaze.

  Longing, regret, and something else she couldn’t put a name to swam in those stunning eyes. “Penelope, please listen to me for just a few minutes.”

  Her full name had become an endearment for the first time in her life, and now even that was soiled. He was party to her demise along with her parents who had been plotting this her entire life. Perhaps she was the one being dramatic, but she didn’t care. Something snapped inside her, and no amount of cheek biting would control it. “Don’t you dare call me that. Don’t you ever call me that.”

  She ran from the room but couldn’t bear not knowing what would be said about her. Sneaking around through the servants’ passage, she listened through the other door.

  The rustle of skirts indicated Mother had risen. “Please pardon my daughter. Clearly she is overwrought by the excitement of becoming your wife.”

  “Clearly.” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

  “Then we will expect you at the house today.” Satisfaction oozed from Mother’s tone. She’d gotten what she’d always wanted from Poppy, marriage to a man of wealth and title. It was Poppy’s own stupidity that had sealed her fate.

  Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. She would have to run, but where? She had no family to run to, at least none who would take her in. She had little funds.