The Earl Not Taken Read online

  After several gasps for air, Aurora pulled away and turned to Rhys. Her eyes swam, and the color had drained from her cheeks. Even her hair fell sorrowfully across her face. “I told her I wrote the letter to her mother that started this entire mess. I was planning to take the information to my grave, but guilt forced it from me. I haven’t slept since betraying the two of you. I only did it because I wanted you both to be happy.”

  Faith threw her hand over her mouth, covering her gasp.

  Mercy shook her head. “Oh, Aurora.”

  Rhys put his hand on his sister’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. “I understand, Rora, but you must have known Poppy would find it harder to accept. You should have trusted me to do this my own way.”

  “I just thought to give you both a little push. I didn’t think her parents would behave so badly. I thought it would give you the nudge you needed to propose and maybe she would see what a good fit you are together.”

  Rhys let his breath out and shook his head. “I had every intention of proposing long before you involved those parents of hers.”

  “I’m sorry,” Aurora cried into her napkin while Garrett patted her back.

  “Where did she go?” Garrett frowned but waved for the butler with his free hand. “Woolery, his lordship and I will need boots and coats.”

  “She ran from the gazebo toward the forest.” Aurora still wept, but Faith had come around and taken over for Garrett’s comforting.

  Rhys was torn between his sister’s obvious state of despair and finding Poppy out in the dank weather before she caught a chill.

  “We will take care of Aurora,” Mercy said. “You go and find Poppy.” She rounded the table and the three sat.

  Rhys gave Mercy a nod and ran for the door. He grabbed the outerwear being held by Woolery in the doorway and donned the cloak as he rushed through the house. At the back door, he changed footwear.

  “We’ll head toward the woods, then split up and search in opposite directions. Are you certain she’s not in the gardens, Rhys?” Garrett buttoned his cloak, his usually affable expression stoic with concern.

  “Yes. I searched the house from top to bottom and then the gardens on all sides. She is not within the grounds.” His own panic started to churn. Poppy had been gone for hours. She had to be cold and wet by this time. She might have fallen and been hurt or worse.

  “Rhys, I see the terrible possibilities rolling around in that head of yours. We shall find her, and she will be fine.” Garrett’s voice was a command rather than a reassurance. “We will meet back here at nightfall with or without her. If it takes longer, we’ll need to gather more help.”

  With a nod, Rhys mounted his horse and trotted toward the woods, calling Poppy’s name. They split up at the edge of the trees, and Rhys headed north. South would have taken Poppy past the manor, which seemed unlikely.

  Garrett rode off to the east.

  The rain grew harder, and soon Garrett’s calls became faint then disappeared into the other sounds of the forest and storm.

  Combing the woods this way and that, Rhys found no sign of her. The trees were dense and gave little light. It had been hours, and the daylight waned as his panic returned. Common sense said Poppy would return before dark if she could, but his Poppy was stubborn and hurt. She would need time to sort out her feelings. And there was her clumsiness to consider.

  Forcing his darker thoughts aside, he followed the sound of running water.

  A creek pushed past its banks blocked his path. It might not have been so high when Poppy came through. She might have crossed. Rhys might drown himself and the horse trying to cross at its current velocity. He walked southeast along the water’s edge, looking for a safer place to cross. The rushing water was so loud his calls for Poppy would never be heard over the roar. Still, he shouted until his throat scratched with the effort.

  A twig snapped.

  Rhys tugged his horse to a quick stop. The last thing he needed was to frighten a wildcat and get mauled. More likely it was a grouse disturbed by his presence near her nest. Determined, he kept on his path to find a better way over the creek, which was more like a river from the rain. “Poppy!”

  “Rhys?”

  The response was so low, he thought he’d imagined it. “Poppy!”

  Stronger. “I’m here.”

  He jumped to the ground.

  At the base of a large tree, Poppy sat soaked and covered in mud. He let out a breath he’d not realized he’d been holding and rushed to her. “Are you hurt?”

  She shrugged. Her voice rasped with tears. “I fell. I’m cold. My knee hurts. Aurora…”

  Cupping her face, he peppered her cheeks and forehead with kisses. “I know, she told us.”

  “I’m sorry I ran. I…” She sobbed into her hands.

  Female tears were the order of the day, he supposed. “Let me have a look at your knee.”

  “The creek was too high to cross and I got a bit turned around. I wanted to come back, but then I tripped over a root.” She pointed at a gnarled bit of root humped up out of the ground ten feet away.

  He lifted the hem of her skirt above the injured knee.

  A gash marred her perfect skin. The blood has slowed to seeping, but her lower leg was covered with the sticky remains of a wound. Between that, the mud, and a dark bruise, he couldn’t see the extent of the cut. He pulled his blouse out of his breeches and tore the bottom in a long strip. With the very end he cleaned the mud and bits of pebbles and bark away. Once he wrapped the cloth around her knee several times, he tied a knot.

  “Any other injuries?” He searched her for some indication of where else she might hurt.

  “None you can fix with your shirt.” Her hair had fallen from the chignon she’d worn in the morning. It hung around her face in soaking spirals. There was little left of the tattered bottom of her peach day dress, and the charming lace around the collar he’d noticed earlier was missing entirely. The brown overcoat she donned presumably to meet Aurora in the gazebo was also soaked through and hung from her shoulders. Even looking like an abandoned rag doll, he wanted her.

  “We shall work on those once we have you dry and warm.”

  “I’m not at all sure it can be fixed. How will I ever trust her again?” Her despair was heartbreaking.

  “You will forgive Rora when you realize she was only doing what she thought would be best for you. I am confident you shall get through this, and I will help you in any way I can. Now let’s get you back, if you’re ready.”

  She nodded.

  Lifting her, he hugged her a moment before putting one arm behind her knees. He swung her into his arms and put her in the saddle. Swinging up behind her, he settled her on his lap and carried her west, out of the woods. It was several miles back to the manor.

  Poppy kept her face buried in his cloak. “I cannot trust anyone. I wish I had run far away as my first instinct told me to. I could be in another country where my parents would never find me by now.”

  He stopped, the rain pelting them. “Your friends, including Aurora, will be frantic with worry. Then you can calmly think this all through without the panic that sent you into a strange wood alone. And, Poppy, don’t ever do anything like this again.”

  When she just stared back at him, he continued forward. The manor’s lights were a welcome sight when they arrived back at the gardens long after dark.

  Poppy hadn’t said another word and shivered in his arms, her teeth chattering.

  “We shall get you dry and warm, sweetheart. Hold on a bit longer.” Rhys’s temper had waned when facing her becoming ill from the cold. Perhaps if he believed she would not catch a fever, his words would be fact.

  Inside, Garrett was pulling off his sopping cloak and handing it to Woolery. His friend sagged against the wall. “Thank God, you found her.”

  The butler called for more wood on the fire in the great parlor. He yelled for dry clothes for Poppy and both men before turning back to Rhys. “The other ladies are waiting there, my lord. It is the warmest room in the house, and it might be best to care for Lady Penelope there until she has shed her chills.”

  Rhys stomped through the house and kicked open the parlor door before the footman could open it.

  Aurora, Mercy, and Faith all gasped and jumped up from their places around the hearth.

  Once he deposited Poppy by the fire, there was a flurry of activity as the girls and maids cared for her.

  A glare from Poppy forced Aurora back.

  It was not his place to interfere, and he was confident that Poppy would come around. He slogged up the stairs and changed his own sopping clothes before returning to the parlor.

  On the rug next to the fire, Poppy wore a nightgown of billowy white and was wrapped in at least three blankets. She sat with her hands around her knees. Faith ran a brush through her damp hair, but Poppy still chattered and her skin was gray.

  Rhys moved a large overstuffed chair toward the fire, lifted Poppy, and sat her in his lap on the chair. He held her tight, willing the cold out of her. “Relax, my love. You are safe now and with friends.”

  By the time Poppy’s hair was dry and she fell into a fitful sleep, Rhys felt the heat of a fever coming off her.

  The other three Wallflowers slept nearby huddled together on the couch despite the availability of several other pieces of furniture.

  Aurora stirred. Her eyes widened when she saw him in the firelight. “What is it?”

  “She has a fever.”

  Waking the other two, Aurora jumped from the couch. “Let’s get her to bed. She is strong and by morning she may have fought it off.”

  * * * *

  Rhys spent the night at her bedside. When dawn broke and she was thrashing with fever, he sent for a doctor and was informed the doctor for the region was in another town. It would take three days to reach the man and bring him to Thwackmore.

  They kept cool cloths on her head and changed her bedding as she went from sweating to chills several times during the day.

  Aurora came in the room. “Go and sleep awhile, Rhys. If you become ill, who will order the rest of us around?”

  “You’ll call me if she wakes or gets worse?” He stood.

  “Of course,” Aurora said, turning her attention to Poppy’s sleeping form.

  Rhys slept hard and deep for hours. The last two days had caught up with him. Someone had entered and left a bowl of stew on the table in his room. He downed the food, dressed, and went to Poppy’s room.

  Mercy sat with her and gave him a sad smile when he entered. “She is the same. She called for you once about an hour ago, but then fell back to sleep, so I thought not to wake you.”

  Mercedes always had a direct way of speaking, which Rhys appreciated. He missed her usual sarcasm and wit and hoped Poppy would soon recover and everyone would return to normal.

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t have dragged all of you up here.” He sat on the edge of the bed and picked up Poppy’s limp hand.

  Rising, Mercy shook her head. “Aurora’s interference had already happened. This is not your fault, nor is it Aurora’s. This happened because Poppy is afraid to live a life not her own. Fleeing is what she does to protect herself. But I suspect you knew all of this without my needing to tell you.”

  He forced a smile. “It’s still nice to have someone confirm it all.”

  “Shall I send Faith in?” Mercy asked.

  “No. Let her sleep. I will stay and take care of Poppy.”

  When Mercy was gone, Rhys leaned over Poppy’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Come back to me, my love. What will become of me if you leave?”

  Shivers overtook Poppy. Her teeth clacked together uncontrollably, and she thrashed from side to side.

  Rhys kicked off his boots, climbed under the covers, and pulled her into his arms. “I have you, Penelope. Nothing will hurt you as long as we’re together.”

  He kissed her hair and tightened his hold, willing his heat into her.

  Her usual flowery scent was obscured by rain and woods she’d brought back, but underneath was pure Poppy. If he could live on that alone, he would be happy for a lifetime. Pulling her around to face him, he rubbed warmth into her back. “Come back to me, and I will show you a world you had never imagined,” he repeated.

  * * * *

  The first light of day shone in Poppy’s room. The rain had moved off, and the sun crested the horizon. Rhys pressed his cheek to Poppy’s and found her cool. When he pulled back to take a look, she protested and tightened her grip around his back.

  Unmeasurable joy bloomed inside Rhys. “I think you must be feeling better, my love.”

  Releasing him, she pulled back. Her eyes were clear though tired. “Is that what I am, your love?”

  Her voice was small and filled with worry. His heart was so full, it might overflow. He kissed her nose and then her cheek. “You are my only love and shall be for as long as I live, Penelope.”

  She sighed and wrapped her arms around him again. “I had very strange dreams, I can’t quite remember. I think I was in another world, but all the while you were calling me back. It’s all very fuzzy now.”

  “I was calling you back to me. You scared me, dearest. You had me frantic that I might lose you.” He held the back of her skull, his fingers threading her hair.

  Her back expanded with air and then released. “That would solve all the problems, would it not?”

  Pushing her back just far enough so he could look her in the eye with only an inch between their noses, he said, “No, Poppy. It would not solve anything. It would leave me devastated. How many ways must I tell you, I love you and want to spend my life making you happy? What must I do to convince you that you are the only woman I shall ever want? When will you believe we were made for each other and you would no more be my property than I would be yours?”

  Every emotion passed through Poppy’s eyes before she settled on something more tender. “I believe you, Rhys.”

  He stilled, and his heart stopped beating as he waited for her to take her words back. “You do?”

  “Yes. No one would go through all of this trouble for a woman he didn’t love. I have been a fool and hope you will forgive me.” She pressed a simple kiss to his lips.

  It sent a bolt of lightning through him. “Does that mean you might consider the possibility of marrying me?”

  Her eyes lowered.

  Rushing to fill the empty space, he said, “I don’t need an answer now. I will not pressure you. When you are ready you can tell me what you want. Aurora will still shelter you if you choose not to marry me. I will pay for you to live however you wish as long as you are happy.”

  She pressed one finger to his lips, silencing him.

  A warm blush crept up her cheeks. “I have been blinded by a past I didn’t understand. When I was in the woods and thought I might never make my way back or be found, I had a lot of time to think of you and the way you have cared for me these many weeks. You never wavered. You asked me to marry you before my mother was involved.”

  “I asked because it was what I wanted, not because we’d made love or out of a sense of duty.” He brushed her hair back behind her ear.

  “I can see that now. I was so blinded by my own beliefs about you and men in general, I nearly killed myself over this nonsense. But in the woods, something occurred to me.”

  His heart had lodged itself in his throat, but he squeaked out, “What was that, love?”

  “In my twenty-one years, I have seen my fair share of rakes and rogues who took liberties with young ladies both willing and not. Yet none affected me the way what I saw in the forest all those years ago had. When I sat in the mud soaking and catching a chill, I played each moment back in my mind looking for the difference, and all I found was you.”

  “Me?” Rhys didn’t know what she was talking about, but he was enraptured with every word.

  She blushed deep pink before returning her gaze to his. “Yes. I think I may have loved you even then.”

  The word from her lips stopped the world around them. That single moment of perfection made everything else unimportant. Time stopped and held. “You love me?”

  A slow nod and a shy smile lit her face. “I love you now as I did then. I think it a short jump from love to hate, and when I saw you with that woman back when I was little more than a child, my love turned. I should have let it go, but I couldn’t. Until now.”

  “What do you feel now, Penelope?” Rhys didn’t want to risk losing the moment.

  “I love you, Rhys Draper. I shall love you until my death, which I hope will not be for a hundred years.”

  He laughed and kissed her nose. “A hundred years will do very nicely.”

  She giggled then sobered. “I’m sorry to have frightened everyone. I really had planned to come back, but I got lost.”

  “No more running, Poppy. If you are afraid, you have friends who love you and will help.”

  She sighed. “Aurora.”

  “Will you forgive her?” It was hard not to make Aurora’s case, but he thought better of it.

  “I don’t know. Can it be enough I’ve had one revelation today?”

  Leaning in, he took a long, lingering kiss. Her mouth opened under his without hesitation. He nibbled her full bottom lip, and she did the same to his top as if they were coming together after a lifetime. Her hands skimmed up and down his back, moving lower with each pass.

  He pulled her bottom toward him, letting her feel the agony she created within him as well as the promise of pleasure. Lips, teeth, and tongues merged in passion and relief before Rhys came to his senses. “This is not the time or place for this, my love. Our friends will be barging in at any moment to check on your condition.”

  Poppy swallowed several times with her forehead pressed to his. “Then do you think I might request a bath?”