The Earl Not Taken Read online

  “What is wrong with you today, Poppy?” Faith frowned from across the table. “You have not listened to a word I’ve said about Breckenridge and now you’re cursing at who knows what.”

  Good Lord, she was becoming a complete ninny. “Forgive me. I am sorry, Faith. What were you saying?”

  Faith took a long inhale as if she would say it all again.

  Closing her eyes, Aurora placed a hand on Faith’s arm. “Perhaps we can relive your assessment of the Duke of Breckenridge later, Faith. I’m curious as to why you’re so distracted, Poppy.”

  “It’s nothing.” She spoke too loud and too fast. “I mean, I’m just thinking about what I already told you I saw in the garden last night.”

  The door opened and Poppy jumped. But it was only a lady and her maid, and Poppy regained her breath.

  Narrowing her gaze, Aurora said, “Are you certain? You’re jumpy and out of sorts.”

  “I’m fine.” The door opened again, and Poppy forced herself to remain calm and didn’t even look to see who entered.

  Aurora smoothed her black mourning dress. “If you say so.” She looked past Poppy. “Hello, Rhys.”

  Annoyed by her own reaction to his arrival, Poppy let anger fill her rather than acknowledging her heated cheeks and racing heart.

  “Good afternoon, ladies. I didn’t know I would be seeing all three of you today.” His golden hair gleamed in the light coming through the windows, and somehow, he looked taller.

  Poppy knew it wasn’t possible for him to have gotten better looking, but why was her stomach all aflutter?

  Faith said, “I wanted to hear what news you bring, and Aurora needed some time outside the house.”

  He bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you all.”

  Poppy couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact. If he smirked, she might scratch out his eyes. Of course he would be pleased with himself after her wanton behavior. Kissing a rake, what had she been thinking? Fiddling with the white linen napkin in her lap, Poppy said, “I have told Aurora and Faith about what we saw in the garden last night.”

  His silence forced her gaze up. She thought she detected concern etched in the lines around his blue eyes and full mouth. It couldn’t be he was worried over her feelings. No. It had to be something else.

  Rhys cleared his throat and turned to Faith. “I have some further news about the man whom your intended met with.”

  Progress meant Poppy was a step closer to being rid of Rhys. That should make her happy…then why did she feel lost? “What did you learn?”

  His gaze met hers and sent a thrill through her. “Geb Arafa is an Egyptian living in England. He has a home outside London and deals openly in rare artifacts and privately in information.”

  Faith placed her teacup in the saucer with a click. “Then perhaps His Grace is a collector and nothing is amiss.”

  “That is possible,” Rhys said. “Shall we dispense with our investigation, Faith? Are you satisfied Breckenridge is suitable?”

  Poppy’s heart stopped. Was Breckenridge a good man? Would he treat her friend with respect? Yet to bully Faith into continuing would be no better than what her parents attempted with their high-handed arrangements.

  Staring down into her cup, Faith patted her neat hair back. “Even if his dealings are aboveboard, it does not mean he is a nice man. I would still prefer to know what he was doing so long in France and gather a bit more assurance of his character.”

  Poppy let out her breath. “Perhaps Mr. Arafa would be willing to give him a character witness. If he is an information dealer, he must have knowledge to spare.”

  “I have the location of his home. Shall we pay him a call?” Rhys directed the question to Poppy.

  “I cannot leave London with you without a chaperone.” Even so, the idea sent a thrill through Poppy.

  “Shall I come along?” Aurora asked.

  Rhys’s expression softened when he spoke to his sister. “If you are up to a day out, I would not object, Rora. However, paying a call while in mourning might raise some eyebrows in town.”

  “Must anyone know?” Poppy asked.

  Rhys cocked his head and watched her. “I don’t see how we would hide it.”

  Faith giggled. “You obviously don’t know the Wallflowers of West Lane.”

  Forcing a stern look, Poppy said, “All we need do is use an unmarked covered carriage. No one need know who is inside or for what purpose. Carriages go in and out of London unnoticed all the time.”

  “That’s rather sneaky, Lady Penelope.” He failed in his efforts to hide a smile.

  “Oh, Rhys,” Aurora said, “how do you think we got away with so much?”

  His smile faded. “As I recall, your antics got the lot of you sent away for three years.”

  “Worth every moment.” Poppy fondly recalled all the fun she’d had before being sent away and the wonderful years at Miss Agatha’s school.

  “So, you would have me blacken the family crest on my carriage?”

  Aurora sighed, but there was fire in her voice. “No need. I have a carriage and I’m happy to blot out the crest.”

  After a long pause, Rhys said, “I see. Then perhaps you ladies would collect me tomorrow and we will make an afternoon of it.”

  “Faith, I’m sorry to say it, but I don’t think you should be involved.” Aurora frowned, making her appear even more forlorn.

  “I suppose it would be better if I remained at home. If I do marry His Grace, it would be better not to be too involved in investigating him. But I do hate being left out of an adventure.” Faith popped a piece of biscuit in her mouth.

  Poppy wished she could stay home and let Faith go. Being so close to Rhys for an entire day was a terrible idea. “How are your plans for a house party coming?”

  Joy spread across Faith’s face, and her eyes lit with excitement. She clapped. “Mother is enthralled with the idea. She has already made a guest list. I hope you don’t mind, my lord, but I’ve had you added to her list. I thought, considering our mission, you might like to attend.”

  He bowed his head. “I am honored. Thank you.”

  A war raged inside Poppy between excitement and dread over spending a fortnight in the same house with Rhys and his mind-scrambling kisses. His woodsy scent filled her with the memory of being in his arms and wanting more of him.

  She had to get away. She stood, forcing him to stand as well. “Well, that’s settled, then. I have errands to run.”

  Rhys bowed. “I will see you tomorrow, Lady Penelope.”

  With a quick curtsy she studied her friends.

  “I suppose we’re leaving, then.” Aurora stood and narrowed her gaze again. She paused for a moment in front of her brother. “See you tomorrow, Rhys.”

  Faith threaded her arm through Poppy’s, and they left. Once on the street, she leaned in. “What was the hurry, Poppy? There were still biscuits.”

  “I noticed Poppy didn’t eat a single sweet.” Aurora took her other arm.

  “I’m not hungry.” Her stomach growled as if commanded to disobey her.

  “Did something happen between you and Rhys?” Aurora was far too observant.

  “No. He and I are still at odds, just as we always were. We danced and bickered before watching Faith’s intended in the garden. I fell on the way back to the house, and Mother returned me to West Lane. Faith was there.”

  Faith fiddled with the lace on her sleeve. “They appeared very cozy dancing, but the rest is true enough. It was a shame you ruined the gown. It suited you very well.”

  “I see,” Aurora said. “Shall we go home and have the carriage painted?”

  Thankful for the change of subject, Poppy stepped into the vehicle and pushed her thoughts of Rhys to the back of her mind. She had more important worries. She had a Wallflower to protect.

  * * * *

  Poppy arrived outside Rhys’s townhouse alone. She stayed inside the unmarked carriage while the driver went to the front door. Hands gripped in her lap, she forced herself to relax. It was only Rhys. She’d known him for years, and while she didn’t like him, he was not dangerous. All would be well, and they would save Faith if she needed saving.

  The carriage door burst open and Rhys jumped in. Wide eyed, he scanned the interior. His blond hair flopped over sky-blue eyes, and he brushed it back. “Where is Rora?”

  “She said she did not feel well enough to travel today. Since we have an unmarked carriage, I didn’t see any reason to delay. After all, we’ll be back this evening and no one will be the wiser.” Pleased with the staid tone of her voice, Poppy smiled as he sat across from her.

  He removed his hat and grinned. “You have me all to yourself, then, Penelope. What will you do?”

  Stunned to silence as the carriage rolled down the streets of London, Poppy recovered. “Are you trying to make me angry, Rhys Draper? I will not be baited into such childishness.”

  Grabbing his chest, he sighed. “That is a terrible shame. I dearly love to see you in a temper.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and pretended to ignore him.

  A light drizzle increased to a steady rain by the time they left the city. The sky darkened, and thunder boomed in the distance. After an hour Poppy’s silence seemed petty compared to the situation. “I did not think Mr. Arafa’s home was so far.”

  “Nor did I.” All humor gone from Rhys, he pounded on the front side of the carriage.

  A moment later they rolled to a stop. John had been Aurora’s driver for three years. He opened the door. “I’m sorry, sir, madam. I cannot find the house in the directions.”

  A knot formed in Poppy’s throat. “Are we lost, John?”

  Sopping wet, John shrugged. “Not in that we couldn’t get back to London, my lady. I just can’t seem to find the house, and we’ve gone rather far off the beaten path. The roads have turned to mud. It would be best if we found some nearby shelter until the storm’s passed.”

  Rhys’s shoulders stiffened, and he frowned. “See what you can find, John. Perhaps my information was in error. I don’t want to throw a wheel and land Lady Penelope in the mud.”

  “Yes, my lord. There must be some shelter to be found.” John shut the door, and the carriage rocked as he jumped back up to the driver’s seat and called to the horses.

  A chill filled the carriage as they slogged through the mud. Poppy struggled to keep her teeth from chattering.

  Rhys tugged off his coat and, easing forward, tucked it around her. “I’m very sorry about this, Poppy.”

  The sound of her preferred name on his lips warmed her even more than the lovely gesture of his coat. “It isn’t your fault it rained.”

  “I should have double-checked the directions.” Worry creased his brow.

  “Without the bad weather it would be no more than a slight inconvenience. Besides, in good weather perhaps the house would be more easily seen.”

  The carriage turned suddenly, and she gripped the window frame to keep her seat. In keeping with her normal state, she was unsuccessful and flew to the other side of the carriage, arms and legs flailing.

  Scooping her up, Rhys chuckled before settling her upright on the cushion. He didn’t immediately release her.

  It was perfect in his warm embrace, and the way his gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips, she thought he might kiss her. Fairly sure she would not stop him, her heart pounded and her attention was drawn to his mouth. She really was becoming a fool.

  With a shake of his head, he released her. “John must have found something. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  “I’m dry and safe in the carriage, Rhys. Thus far, I have no grave concerns. You seem more fretful, to be honest.”

  The carriage rumbled over a bridge then onto smooth road.

  When he turned back from the window, relief eased the lines around his mouth. That kissable mouth.

  “There is a house,” he said on a sigh.

  Leaning forward, she studied him. “You really were worried.”

  “You are in my care. I would not forgive myself if you were harmed.”

  Shocked at his obvious fears, she didn’t know what to say.

  Rhys smiled. “Besides, Rora would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”

  John pulled up to the front door, and several footmen rushed down the steps with umbrellas.

  “It seems we are saved.” Poppy wanted to lighten the mood. A serious and caring Rhys struck her as far more dangerous than the lighthearted rogue she was accustomed to.

  A very tall butler with dark hair and a mustache pulled open the door. “Madam, sir, please come inside before we are all drowned.” His rich accent was similar to Geb’s.

  “Thank you.” Poppy accepted his offered hand and stepped under the umbrellas.

  Once they were inside, a woman with the keys of the housekeeper hanging from her waist and a bright red turban on her head ran toward them. “My word, what a time to be caught on the road. Welcome to Aaru. Our master is not in, but he would wish you to be given the utmost hospitality.”

  “You are very kind.” Rhys bowed and smiled.

  The butler said, “I am Kosey. Your driver and horses will be cared for. Mrs. Bastian will bring you some tea to warm you.”

  Rhys handed Kosey his hat. “I am Rhys Draper, Earl of Marsden, and this is Lady Penelope Arrington. We were looking for the home of Mr. Arafa when this sudden storm drove us off the road.”

  “Yes. This can happen. You are most welcome here, my lord and lady.”

  They were all very kind, and Poppy hated to break into their warm welcome. “Forgive me, but is this the home of Mr. Geb Arafa?”

  Mrs. Bastian grinned, and Kosey gave a slow nod. He said, “I’m afraid the master is not at home, as Mrs. Bastian said. We do expect him for supper. Perhaps you might join him for the meal.”

  “That is very kind. Thank you.” Poppy followed the housekeeper from the foyer and its polished wood-and-crystal chandelier into a large parlor adorned with massive lamps, overstuffed furniture, and foreign items she’d never seen before.

  “What an unusual room,” Rhys said.

  “It is the master’s favorite room in the house. All the items here are from his home in Egypt. I’ll just go and order the tea. Feel free to explore.” Mrs. Bastian slipped from the room and closed the door behind her.

  “It would seem we have found Geb’s home.” Rhys picked up a stone statue depicting a bare-chested man holding a scroll and wearing a turban. The nose of the statue was missing, and the base had strange pictures carved all the way around.

  An enormous round divan filled the center of the room. The burgundy material shone like silk, and it was strewn with a dozen pillows in every color.

  Poppy sank into the soft, decadent seat. “Good Lord, I may never leave this spot. Rhys, you must try this. It is positively the most wanton divan every made. Like sitting on a cloud.”

  He touched another statue of some scaled beast with a long snout and sharp teeth. “This is remarkable.”

  Gold, silver, and bronze statues, trinkets, and relics filled every hard surface. The walls were draped in rich fabrics depicting Egyptian scenes of war, love, and daily life. It was impossible to sit up straight on the fluffy furniture, so she leaned back on her elbows. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Crossing to where she sat, he beamed down at her. “You look quite at home there.”

  His smile faded, and some emotion she couldn’t pinpoint crossed his face and made him look angry for an instant.

  “You should try it.”

  Rhys leaned over her and placed one hand above her shoulder. As the cushion gave, it brought him closer to her until his knees touched hers and his mouth was mere inches from devouring her. “I do not know if I could join you there and not regret my actions, Poppy. Surely you would regret them, and I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Are you teasing me?”

  His gaze dipped to her body beneath his. “Myself, I think. When did you get so beautiful?”

  Footsteps at the door startled her to sitting, and she whacked her head against his. “Ouch!” She held her bruised forehead.

  Laughing and touching his own battered head, he stepped away. “A sign much needed.”

  There was no time to ask what he’d meant by a sign. Had he intended to kiss her? She shouldn’t be disappointed by the arrival of the housekeeper, but her heart sank as she stood up and lamented the sore spot and bad timing.

  Mrs. Bastian stepped in with a heavily laden tray. She placed it on a round table near the window. “Come and warm yourself with some tea. I’ll have a maid come and build a fire. When the master is away, we don’t warm this room, but you’ll be comfortable here for a time.”

  Poppy sat at the table. “Thank you, Mrs. Bastian. You are very kind, and that cake looks delicious.”

  “Our cook is quite proud of her sweets. Shall I pour or will you, my lady?”

  “Don’t trouble yourself. I will pour. You have already done enough,” Poppy said as she took the lily-painted teapot in hand and poured two cups.

  Alone again with Rhys, perhaps she should have found an excuse for the housekeeper to remain.

  When she put the pot down, Rhys let out a breath before sitting across from her. “Not even a drip on the linen.”

  There was the Rhys she’d grown accustomed to with his judgments and sarcasm. “I realize you think me a vacuous fool, but I can pour tea.”

  Those fine blue eyes she couldn’t help but admire softened in their regard of her. His lips thinned, and he studied his tea before returning his gaze to her. “You are quite wrong, and I am very sorry to have given that impression.”

  Thunder boomed, stopping his admission. A maid, soaked through, rushed in. “Sir, Kosey asks if you might assist. A tree has fallen on the barn and several horses are trapped.”

  “Hades’s breath.” Poppy rose, heart pounding.