The Earl Not Taken Read online

  The carriage rocked as they rounded the corner on Garrett’s street. Rhys took several long breaths to clear his residual panic before they reached the townhouse.

  Garrett stood at the top of the stairs, holding the door open.

  His butler looked to be about to burst at the seams where he fussed from beside him. “I will attend the door, my lord. There is no need for you to receive guests like a farmer.”

  Garrett’s good-natured laugh gave Rhys a sense it would all work out. “Quinn, you shall always be here to keep me in line.”

  “Hardly, my lord.” Quinn waited for Rhys to enter then shooed them both from the threshold so he could close the door.

  “How did it go?” Garrett’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm. One might think it was his heart at stake.

  Calming those demons still battling in his stomach, Rhys nodded. “As well as I could have hoped for. She and the other ladies have agreed to go to Thwackmore tomorrow morning.”

  Wide eyed, Garrett closed his mouth and shook his head. “She must like you a little at least. We have a lot of details to work out if you’re to woo her properly, my friend.”

  And that was what Rhys planned to do. He followed Garrett into the study to get to work.

  Chapter 15

  Poppy woke early. Well, if truth be told, she’d hardly slept. After having a trusted footman place her trunk at the garden gate, she’d tried to rest. Staring up at the shimmering gold curtains surrounding her bed didn’t actually qualify as rest. She didn’t know if she was relieved or terrified by the prospect of running away to Scotland. The only thing she was sure of was, a large public wedding in London orchestrated by her parents a few days hence didn’t appeal to her at all.

  At dawn she got out of bed, washed, and got dressed in her light blue day dress. It was comfortable, and she could get into it herself. She donned boots for the walk over to West Lane. One last examination of the room where she’d spent most of her time in the last three years. It was sparse, as she never felt at home in the golds and staid browns her mother preferred. She’d once suggested a change to rose or cream, but Mother had scoffed at the notion. Not dramatic enough for an Arrington, she’d said.

  Instead of making up an elaborate story to tell her mother, she put a letter on the mantel in her room and left before Mother woke. When her maid found the letter around ten, she would hold it until Mother came down at eleven. By that time, Poppy would be long out of London. Her parents would be furious, but they were unlikely to do more than rage about the house and lament their horrible daughter once again.

  Poppy stepped onto the street and strode purposefully toward West Lane without looking back.

  When she returned to London there would be a reckoning, but how it would go would depend on her and Rhys’s status. She shook off the decision ahead of her. She’d agreed to Scotland to get away from her parents’ bullying. Unsure about anything else, she wasn’t immune to his sweet declarations at George’s. There wasn’t a woman alive who could be unfeeling when faced with such a declaration. No one had ever stirred her heart as Rhys had.

  Despite her early arrival at Aurora’s townhouse, three carriages lined the street when she stepped onto West Lane. Her trunk sat neatly on top of the last carriage, and Gillian was directing footmen for the packing and loading of the rest of the luggage.

  The lady’s maid gave Poppy a quick curtsy and a smile before scolding the young man in Marsden livery for putting a hatbox under a heavy trunk.

  Poppy rushed past and up the stairs to the front door.

  The door opened with Tipton checking the scene on the street. “Good morning, my lady. The ladies are finishing up above stairs, and the gentlemen are waiting in the parlor.”

  “Thank you, Tipton. You’ll be happy to have things quiet for a while, I expect.”

  An unusual frown crossed the butler’s face. “It is always a pleasure to have you ladies at home. I shall be sorry to see you go.”

  Warmth bloomed inside Poppy. She’d always thought the stoic butler indifferent, but clearly, she had been mistaken. “I will return in one manner or another, Tipton.”

  “I look forward to it, my lady.” He returned to his mask of indifference and bowed.

  Swallowing her instinct to run upstairs and hide out with the ladies, she raised her chin. “I will join the gentlemen.”

  Tipton rushed to the parlor door and opened it for her.

  Thankful they were in the lady’s parlor and not the grand parlor where the scene with her mother had taken place, she found Garrett Winslow lounging on the chaise. He jumped up when he saw her.

  Rhys stood by the window, his back rigid and his expression suffused with worry. “You came.”

  After a quick curtsy, she sat on the couch. “I said I would.”

  Rounding the room, Rhys nodded. He stood behind the chair, his knuckles white on the chair’s back. “Did you have any problems leaving the house?”

  “Mother has not risen yet. I left a letter and walked out the front door. It will be hours before anyone notices I am gone, and by then my maid will have found the letter and delivered it to my mother. I hope we shall be long out of London by then.”

  Garrett smiled. “If the ladies ever finish fussing, we can leave immediately.”

  “How do you do, my lord?” She had not spent a great deal of time with Garrett Winslow. A little time at the house party and she knew he was a good friend of Rhys’s. Aurora spoke highly of him as well, and he was in line for a dukedom of his own.

  He was very tall as he bowed over her hand. In the sunlight streaming through the window, she noted streaks of red running through his brown hair. There was something in the way his eyes always smiled even when his mouth didn’t that made Garrett likable. Here was another man who would one day be a duke but had none of the haughtiness that usually accompanied the title.

  His smile was charming, though it did not create the quiver inside her that Rhys’s always did. “I am well and happy to be on this journey with you all. I hope you will dispense with formality and call me Garrett.”

  Relaxing into the easy conversation, she said, “Then you must call me Poppy.”

  Faith burst through the open door. Out of breath and flushed, she shouted, “We are ready!”

  “Thank goodness.” Rhys threw up his hands. “I thought we’d never leave this house.”

  Aurora and Mercy tromped down the stairs and out the front door.

  All arms and legs, Garrett ran to join the ladies.

  Faith followed.

  Holding open the door, Tipton looked in her direction still sitting in the parlor. He raised a brow.

  Rhys blocked the view of the foyer with his broad chest in the threshold. “Second thoughts?” His voice was soft and filled with worry.

  Poppy closed her eyes and took a deep breath before standing and brushing out her skirt. “No. I’ll not lie, I’m a bit overwhelmed by the events of the last few days, but I’ll not allow my parents to oppress me anymore.”

  Crossing to her, his mouth pulled into a wide smile. “There’s my strong girl. I’d hate to think all of this has made you meek or broken your spirit.”

  No one besides the Wallflowers had ever cared for her strong will and independent nature. Taking his offered arm, she raised her gaze to his. “Be careful what you wish for, Rhys. You may come to despise my spirit.”

  His laughter filled the foyer and filled her with more delight than she imagined possible from another’s joy. “I will risk it.”

  “As you wish.” She couldn’t help her own smile. They walked out. “Goodbye, Tipton. Thank you.”

  Tipton bowed and closed the door behind them.

  Leaning down to her ear, Rhys whispered, “Will you ride with me, Poppy?”

  Pulse racing, she shook her head. “Not yet.”

  He handed her up into the carriage holding the other three Wallflowers. “When you are ready, then. I shall wait for you.”

  It was a promise, but of exactly what, Poppy didn’t know.

  “This is exciting.” Faith folded her hands in her lap.

  Mercy took her hat off, letting her hair fall free, and leaned back against the ruby cushions. “Garrett told me Rhys was up half the night writing messages and sending out couriers. I think we are in for quite a treat.”

  Watching the city roll by her window, Poppy let the breeze cool her face. Whatever Rhys had planned, she would not let him bully her any more than she’d let her parents. Yet, at George’s, he had given her a means to escape. He’d told her he would pay for her to live the rest of her life with Aurora if that was her choice. “Aurora, do you think he meant it?”

  “Meant what, dearest?” Aurora took Poppy’s hand.

  “Do you think Rhys would let me beg off and live with you. Would he let me have the life I’d planned?”

  Aurora squeezed her hand. “I think he loves you so much he wants you to be happy and if it means living with me or even marrying another, he will do what he can for you.”

  Scoffing, Poppy retrieved her hand gently. “He has never said he loves me. Men do not fall in love. They marry for other reasons and perhaps some find marriage agreeable, but more than that is not likely.”

  “Good lord, Poppy. I hope you’re wrong about that.” Aurora narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “My brother is not reckless. He would never go to this much trouble for someone who hadn’t stolen his heart.” Aurora’s voice rang with sadness, and she turned and looked out her own window.

  * * * *

  They didn’t stop until late afternoon. No chasing carriages sped to stop them. As Poppy suspected, her parents would not go to much trouble on her behalf, which suited her.

  Climbing out of the carriage, Poppy stretched her legs in the neat yard of a very charming inn. It might have been a house from a fairy tale, all scalloped shingles and white shutters and doors.

  A bulbous-nosed man stooped to get his enormous form out of the door. His dark hair stood out from his head wildly, and one of his eyes didn’t quite look where the other did. He might have been terrifying if not for the wide, welcoming smile spread across his face. He called out with a strange accent. “Welcome, welcome. I’ve been worried you had a mishap as I expected you an hour ago.”

  Rhys shook the man’s hand. “The ladies took a bit longer to get ready, and we stopped for a rest as well.”

  The man aimed a delighted grin at the women of the group before turning back to Rhys. “Of course. I have everything prepared as your note indicated. The Romani Bride is at your service.” He pointed to the building.

  Footmen unloaded the carriages, and stable boys saw to the horses. Poppy watched with interest, wondering what Rhys could be up to.

  “Oslo, bring them in already. The ladies will be tired,” said a woman who stood in the doorway. She had silky brown hair touched with gold, a narrow nose, and eyes the color of a spring sky. She was something out of a dream. No one could be that beautiful.

  “Madelina, my wife,” Oslo said to Rhys. “Come, everyone. You can settle into your rooms and rest before dinner.”

  As they entered, they were introduced to Oslo and Madelina formally. It wasn’t like any inn Poppy had ever stayed at, and the owners were not your average innkeepers.

  There was a refinement to the couple, which was not quite noble, but neither were they working class. They spoke beautifully with their rounded accents. From the name of the inn, Poppy guessed they were from Romania.

  “What kind of inn is this, Rhys?” Aurora asked.

  Madelina smiled. “We have a very small clientele, and when not requested, we are able to live here without guests.”

  Poppy had little knowledge of private inns. She had heard of boardinghouses closing themselves to new guests, but not an inn or hotel. Inside the common room was more parlor and dining. There was no bar with raucous locals drinking after a day’s work. It was quiet. Someone played pianoforte in another room. The warm scent of beef cooking filled her senses with anticipation.

  It was no wonder Rhys had spent half the night sending messages if this was how they were going to travel to Scotland.

  Madelina invited the ladies upstairs.

  Stopping Poppy with a gentle touch on her arm, Rhys asked, “Does this meet with your approval?”

  “Hera’s crown, it’s lovely. You didn’t need to go to so much expense. I’m not accustomed to grand luxuries.” It was true that while Father was rich, he rarely spent anything more than was strictly necessary.

  His smile would have made a saint want, and Poppy was no saint. “You should be spoiled from time to time, Poppy. I want this journey to be enjoyable for you. After all, I am trying to convince you to spend your life with me.”

  Warmth crept up her neck and cheeks. “I am properly impressed by your friends and this lodging.”

  He bowed, joy reflected in his smiling eyes. “Then I am well on my way to a proper wooing.”

  It was impossible not to be charmed. “I will see you at dinner.” With a curtsy, she ran to catch up with the others.

  Mercy waited at the top of the second set of stairs. “I thought you and I would share. You might have had enough prying from Faith and Aurora at this point.”

  Poppy wrapped an arm around Mercy’s waist and squeezed her. “You are a gem, dear friend.”

  “Come and see the room. It’s quite nice.” Mercy hugged her back and laughed.

  The last light of the long day shone into the well-furnished room. Green wallpaper and light polished woods gleamed in the streaks of sunlight. Two beds, each curtained in ruby velvet, would keep any light out and make a cozy cave for sleeping. A soft rug of summer green warmed the stone floor, and a fire burned low in the hearth.

  “It’s lovely. I have never seen an inn like this.” Poppy flopped onto the bed.

  Mercy landed next to her. “He’s really making an effort. That is certain.”

  “You’re not going to try to talk me into marrying Rhys, are you? Because I can get that from Aurora.” Poppy was half teasing but at the same time issued a warning.

  A low laugh shook the bed. Mercy said, “No. I trust you’ll do the thing that will make you happy. I was only noting his effort.”

  The air went out of Poppy. “That speech at George’s.” A low sigh that she tried to stifle pushed out too.

  Mercy rolled to face her. “I’ve never heard anything so romantic in my entire life. I couldn’t blame Faith for her tears this time. He was spectacular.”

  “And I was ridiculous.” She rolled to face Mercy.

  “No. Shocked. Surprised. Speechless. Confused.” Mercy opened her mouth to continue her litany of adjectives.

  “All right, that’s enough.” Poppy giggled.

  Mercy sobered. “Do you remember when we were at school and the boys from the neighboring school came to our ball?”

  “I remember they were rude and loud.” Poppy scoffed and propped her head on her hand.

  Lips tight in a serious line, Mercy leaned in. “No. They were young and embarrassed just like we were. You vilified them because you didn’t want anything to do with them. Several wanted to ask you to dance. That boy with the red hair and freckles came over four times, but you scowled and chased him away.”

  Poppy sat up. At sixteen those boys had seemed quite menacing, but looking back, Mercy was right. They were high spirited, but harmless. If she saw them today, she would think them children doing what children do.

  “Do you think I still do this, Mercy?” Had she pushed men away based on some notion rather than the truth? Had she done the same with Rhys?

  Snuggling next to her, Mercy pulled her into her arms and gave her a tight squeeze. “I’m afraid so. Most of the time it hasn’t mattered. The men who tried to court you were after money or position or just too imbecilic to be bothered with. Rhys is different. You should pay attention to the events about to unfold and make your decision based on how you feel in your heart. Don’t let your parents’ horrible example ruin the rest of your life.”

  “You think I should marry Rhys?” The hair stood up on the back of Poppy’s neck. It was a fear response. Was she right to be afraid, or just because it was an easy way out?

  Shaking her head, Mercy sighed. “I have no idea what you should do. I only want to impress upon you making your decisions based on erroneous information is bad practice.”

  “Don’t tell me even you were taken in by his speech?” If the least sentimental of their group could be warmed, Rhys had outdone himself.

  Mercy cocked her head and twirled a bit of hair around her finger. “He may have been ignoring us, Poppy, but he was impossible to ignore. He loves you—even if he didn’t say it in so many words, he said it yesterday at George’s. He poured out his heart in public and left no mistaking his intent. It was riveting.”

  A long sigh overtook Poppy. “It was that.” Her heart pounded at the memory as much as the fact he was just down the hall and she would see him again for dinner.

  Jane knocked and walked in carrying a steaming bucket of water. Her cheeks were rosy from exertion, but her pleasant smile was in place. “Shall we get you ladies dressed for dinner?”

  Poppy pulled herself to her feet. She hoped once they arrived in Scotland she could soak in a long, hot bath. For now, she would settle for warm water and a good scrub to wash away the road dust. “I suppose we must.”

  * * * *

  Dinner was a spectacular event. Oslo and Madelina Ionescu dined with them and were the perfect hosts. Food and wine came to the table in a steady flow. Some of it was familiar and some new.