Starcross Dreams: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (Starcross Castle Book 2)

Home > Romance > Starcross Dreams: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (Starcross Castle Book 2) > Page 6
Starcross Dreams: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (Starcross Castle Book 2) Page 6

by Merry Farmer


  “You’ll come out of this stronger, my darling,” she insisted. “I know you fancied yourself deeply in love, but you will find someone else. You know that Jack Fisher has always been fond of you. I’m certain that if I had a word with his mother, he’d offer for your hand.”

  “Jack is my beau,” Delly protested, sitting straighter.

  “You turned him down years ago,” their mother said. “He was always fonder of Poppy anyhow. Who wouldn’t be fond of such a sweet, big-hearted girl?”

  “Fine. Poppy can have Jack,” Delly sighed. “But if she’s going to marry, I think I should get a chance to go to Starcross Castle as a maid.”

  “If they’d have you,” their mother said.

  “I’m sure they would,” Delly said. “Especially if Poppy leaves to marry Jack. Don’t you think, Poppy?”

  Poppy dragged her eyes up from the spot she’d been studying on the carpet. Her heart felt like a cold, lead weight in her chest. “I suppose,” she said, too disappointed in everything to summon much of a care for the conversation. “Either way, I don’t think I could stay on there. Not now. Not with….” She let her words trail off, lowering her head and giving in to weeping.

  Her mother hugged her and rubbed her back, and after a while, rose to fix a cup of tea for Poppy, just the way she liked it. Delly went on talking about how well she’d fit in at Starcross Castle while her younger brothers and sisters tore about the room, oblivious to their oldest sister’s misery. In a strange way, it was just the sort of balm Poppy needed.

  By the time she returned to Starcross Castle that night, she’d resigned herself to things as they were. She was certain she’d feel better in the morning, or at least resigned to the world the way it was, but her misery didn’t abate at all. It was hard just to put one foot in front of the other.

  “You wouldn’t actually leave Starcross Castle, would you?” Miss Victoria asked her when Poppy shared the reason behind her glum mood while helping her dress. “I mean, you wouldn’t let something like a little romantic disappointment keep you from a place that has become your home.”

  In spite of everything, Poppy’s heart lightened a little at Miss Victoria’s show of support. She gathered the hem of the petticoat she’d just shaken out and lifted it over Miss Victoria’s head so that she could shimmy into it. “I’m not sure it would feel much like home with Nick married to Mavis, miss,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I could stand to see that all the time. And I’d have to work side-by-side with Mavis every day.”

  “But you can’t let a woman who just walked in here last week steal everything you’ve ever dreamed of,” Miss Victoria insisted.

  Poppy tied her petticoat at the small of her back, smiling sadly. “Mavis was here long before I was, miss. And as I understand it, her mother and Nick’s have known each other and planned for the two of them to be together since they were young.”

  “I never did approve of this ridiculous notion that parents should decide who their children’s life partners should be,” Miss Victoria said with a huff as Poppy moved to fetch her skirt. “It seems so medieval. Barbaric, even.”

  “It seemed to work out well for Lady Mariah, miss,” Poppy said, gathering the skirt to slip over Miss Victoria’s head. “Begging your pardon.”

  “Yes, well, that was a once in a lifetime bit of luck.” Miss Victoria’s cheeks went pink, and a sheepish smile pulled at her lips. She climbed into her skirt, then smiled at herself and Poppy in the mirror as Poppy settled, adjusted, and fastened the garment. “I’m so relieved that my sister is happy.”

  “Lord Peter is a wonderful man, miss.”

  “I will admit that he is, and that I was a fool to see only his age and appearance when he first came to call on Mariah.” Her shoulders sank as Poppy went to fetch her blouse. “I was foolish about too many things.”

  A darkness settled over Miss Victoria. It had been there almost as long as Poppy had known the woman, ever since the turmoil that had ended in Lord William’s death. Everyone downstairs knew that Miss Victoria had been grievously dishonored and hurt by Lord William, but Poppy was certain she knew more than anyone else just how deep the damage had gone.

  Bolder than she thought she was, she put an arm around Miss Victoria’s waist and hugged her. In an instant, Miss Victoria stopped being her better and was nothing more than a young woman Poppy’s same age, one who carried a burden in her heart and had no one to share it with. If they’d been born into different stations, Poppy was sure they’d have been friends.

  Miss Victoria drew in a breath and steadied herself, wiping away the tears she’d shed in the moment. “I was a fool because I trusted the wrong man,” she said, cleared her throat, and went on. “You gave your heart to the very best of men, Poppy. I hate to see you suffer because of something that was never meant to be.”

  “We don’t know that it was never meant to be, miss,” Poppy said softly, helping Miss Victoria into her blouse and doing the buttons up the back.

  “It can’t have been meant to be,” Miss Victoria insisted. “You and Nick were meant to be.” Poppy didn’t want to argue, but Miss Victoria must have caught her doubtful expression. “You were,” she insisted.

  “Don’t worry about me, miss.” Poppy tried to smile. “It’s not so bad as all that. My mama thinks there’s a man down in Mousehole, where we’re from, who would marry me. Jack Fisher. I’ll have a home, children. I’ll be happy.”

  “But do you love Jack?”

  Poppy didn’t answer. They both knew she didn’t.

  “Well, I don’t want to lose you,” Miss Victoria went on. “There. I’ve said it. And maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want to let you go when I depend on you so much.”

  Poppy smiled. “Thank you, miss. But you know that even if I did marry Nick, I couldn’t be your maid anymore.”

  “But you would still live at Starcross Castle, would you not? Doesn’t Nick live in that little cottage at the far end of the garden?”

  “He does, miss.”

  “There you have it.” She was finished dressing and moved to study herself in the mirror. She smiled at her reflection and at Poppy behind her. “We simply won’t take no for an answer. Nick loves you, I’m sure of it. I don’t know who this Mavis thinks she is, but I refuse to let her thwart true love or chase away my dear friend.”

  Her speech was so determined and optimistic that Poppy laughed. “You are a treasure, miss.”

  “I hope I can be more than that.” She turned, taking Poppy’s hand and leading her to the small settee near the fireplace. “What you need is a plan to win Nick once and for all.”

  “A plan, miss?”

  “Yes.” She took Poppy’s hands. “How far are you willing to go to win Nick?”

  Poppy’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. She’d never thought about how far she’d go before. Visions of all the things she could do to Mavis popped to her mind, but she recoiled from anything that would be considered cruel. Those were the sorts of things Jane would have done, and she’d learned her lesson about keeping company with cruel people.

  “I would never do anything to hurt anybody, miss,” she said at last.

  “Of course not.” Miss Victoria smiled. “That’s not the sort of thing I meant.” She scooted closer to Poppy. “What I’m thinking is whether you’d be willing to do something that would convince Nick he should be with you and only you.”

  “What sort of thing?”

  Miss Victoria’s eyes flashed with mischief, giving Poppy a glimpse of the spritely young woman she must have been before Lord William did his damage. “The only thing I can think of that would make a man break an engagement to marry someone else, especially if he loves said someone else, would be if he had compromised the woman.”

  “Compromised, miss?” Prickles that were both dread and excitement broke out on Poppy’s skin.

  “You know.” Miss Victoria leaned in closer and whispered. “If he took the woman he loved to bed.”

  “Oh.
” Poppy snapped straighter pressing a hand to her mouth. The memory of the way Nick had kissed her in the greenhouse, the way he made her feel every time he touched her, flooded back to her.

  “Would you be willing to go that far?” Miss Victoria asked in a whisper.

  Poppy blinked, her gaze losing focus. It was so easy to imagine herself giving in completely to Nick, so easy to picture herself naked in his embrace. She should probably have blushed at the thought, but the ache that formed inside of her at the very suggestion of joining with Nick, giving herself completely to him, felt so powerfully right.

  “I would,” she whispered, feeling naughtier than she’d ever felt. “I absolutely would, miss.”

  “Then the way forward is clear.” Miss Victoria squeezed her hands. “You need to find a moment alone with Nick. My guess is that he loves you so much that it won’t take much of a push to get him to cross the line. Men are forever crossing that line.” She glanced down, the darkness seeming to overtake her for a moment. But she shook her head and glanced up again quickly. “You must go to Nick’s cottage and wait for him there tonight. I’m sure as soon as he sees you in his home, he’ll know what he truly wants and he’ll be able to grab hold of it, and you.”

  “Do you really think so, miss?”

  “I know it.” Miss Victoria smiled. “I’ll even lend you some of my French perfume and something to wear to help make you irresistible.”

  “Thank you, miss.”

  They stood, and Miss Victoria led Poppy over to the wardrobe. “This will be fun.”

  Poppy giggled, inclined to agree. She just hoped she didn’t get herself into more trouble than either of them were bargaining for.

  “Mama says we can have her linens,” Mavis prattled on, clutching Nick’s arm as the two of them walked through the meadow just beyond the manicured gardens of Starcross Castle. “They’re the ones her mother brought with her from Ireland when she came here to work for Lord Haslett. Personally, I think they’re a little shabby, but they are family heirlooms.”

  “Uh huh.” Nick smiled, but he’d been having a hard time keeping track of their conversation since they set out. He’d had a hard time focusing on anything Mavis had said from the moment she returned. It was as if she’d been talking for months, and he’d walked in on the middle of things.

  “I’m sure you have plenty of nice things in the garden cottage, but I’ll spruce it up and make it look grand. Particularly in the bedroom. I have a lovely quilt that Mama made for the two of us years ago, right when we first started stepping out together.”

  “Is that so?” It felt like a lifetime had passed since they’d taken that first step, so long ago that he couldn’t convince himself it had really happened. He didn’t have a lick of emotion for Mavis, other than a sense of duty and politeness. She didn’t feel a part of him the way Poppy did. She wasn’t as essential to him as the air he breathed, like Poppy was.

  “I can’t wait for other things in the bedroom,” Mavis said, her voice low and suggestive.

  Nick hummed, his thoughts a thousand miles away. Or maybe just a few hundred yards away, depending on where Poppy was. He’d missed her smile in the past week. The gnawing impatience that lingered every time he thought about how close he’d come to letting their kiss go further than it should have was a constant irritant. Every time he tried to seek Poppy out to explain things, to explain how sorry he was, she’d rushed off or ducked around a corner. He’d spotted her less and less frequently, and it hurt more than he could have anticipated.

  “…and I’ve never agreed with that. Have you?” Mavis stopped, shifting to stand directly in front of him, her hands on his chest. Her green eyes glittered as she looked up at him, and the flush on her face said she’d moved on from talking about home furnishings to something much more intimate.

  Nick blinked at the sudden change in Mavis’s attitude. It was as jarring as someone dropping a vase in the middle of church. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

  Her lip turned out in a pout, and the coquettish light in her eyes increased. “Don’t you agree?” She fiddled with the buttons of his vest, popping one open.

  Discomfort wriggled down his spine. He took hold of her hands to stop her from undoing any more buttons, which she suddenly seemed intent on doing. “I’m not sure what I’m agreeing or disagreeing with.”

  She shrugged one shoulder and bit her lip, glancing up at him through lowered lashes. “That this whole business of waiting until we’re married is just silly. Especially since we didn’t wait before.”

  Nick’s discomfort flared to pure alarm. He laughed nervously. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Which is exactly why I think we could use a refresher.” Her voice was low and husky, and she leaned into him faster than he was anticipating. One hand went straight to his backside, while the other tugged his shirt out of his trousers.

  “Mavis, wait.” He backed away so fast she stumbled. He had to reach out to hold her up, but that only encouraged her.

  “It’s been so long, Nick.” She reached for his vest and undid another button before he could protest. “I’m burning for you. Don’t you remember how good it was between us?”

  Memories of the two of them together flooded his mind, but with them came guilt. Poppy would be so disappointed in him if she knew just how careless he’d been four years ago.

  “We’re in the middle of the meadow, Mavis,” he told her, glancing around. “Someone could come by at any moment.”

  “Then we’ll lie in the grass.” She tugged him to the side, where the grass grew tall, and pulled him down with her.

  Nick was caught off-guard and flopped awkwardly to his knees. Mavis reached for him, pulling him down on top of her. She locked her hands around his neck and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him.

  “Stop,” he growled against her eager mouth. “Mavis, this isn’t right.”

  “Of course it is,” she panted, trying once again to unbutton his vest and shirt. “We used to do this all the time.” Her hips wriggled under him, and she spread her legs apart.

  He batted her hands away from his shirt, only to have her reach for his crotch. The sudden contact of her hand on his cock sent a jolt through him. It didn’t matter how much he loved Poppy, a man’s body was designed to react when a woman touched him. But instead of being pleasurable, the sensation set his teeth on edge.

  “Mavis.” He tried to be firm, grasping one of her wrists and holding it to the ground by the side of her head.

  “See? You want this as much as I do.” She rubbed him, causing blood to flow exactly where he didn’t want it.

  He managed to catch her other wrist and pull her hand away from his crotch to hold it to the side. But holding both of her hands to the side meant he was off-balance, and could only keep above her by pressing his hips into hers.

  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” Mavis panted. “I’ve dreamed about it. Take me now, Nick. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “No,” he said, loud enough to wince. “I’m sorry, Mavis, but this isn’t what I want.”

  He managed to rock back to his haunches, unsettled and breathing heavy. But just when he thought he’d avoided Mavis’s attentions, she pushed herself up, then launched herself at him. The surprise of her impact knocked him backwards, and before he knew it, she was straddling him.

  “Say you want me, Nick. Say this is what you’ve wanted all along.” She tugged at her skirt, pulling it up so that it wouldn’t impede her. Then she reached underneath it for the fastening of his trousers.

  A twist of fear joined Nick’s frustration and alarm. If he didn’t do something, she would have him exposed and sheathed within minutes, seconds even. Every fiber of his being rebelled at the idea. There was nothing he could do but push her aside, rougher than he wanted to.

  Mavis yelped as she collapsed to the grass. Before she could recover, Nick leapt to his feet and refastened everything she’d undone.

  “I don’t want you
, Mavis. Not here, not like this. Not ever.”

  For half a second, she glanced up at him with something feral and desperate in her eyes. It vanished quickly, replaced by the teasing look she’d worn before. “What kind of a man are you, Nick Parsons?”

  “I’m a man who loves another woman,” he burst. There was no way he could keep it inside any longer.

  Mavis raised to her knees and stared at him. Where Nick expected fury, there was only calculation. Her eyes narrowed. “Does she do this to you?” She asked, moving forward and reaching for the fastening of his trousers.

  Nick knew exactly what she intended and backed away before she could reach him. “No. Poppy is a good, sweet girl, and I would never make her do that.” If she ever wanted to, however, he wouldn’t say no.

  The intrusive thought was completely unhelpful and did nothing to ease the rigid tension in his groin.

  “We are going to marry, Nick,” Mavis said, rising. She stood with her feet apart, brushing a strand of grass from her hair. “We were always meant to marry. It’s what our families want. It’s what I want.”

  “But why?” Nick asked through a clenched jaw. “We haven’t been close for years. Why would you care so much now, especially when I tell you I love someone else? Why do you want to marry a man who loves someone else?”

  “Because you’re mine,” she said, almost too cool, too calculating. “You always have been. And I don’t give up what’s mine easily.”

  “You can’t force me to the altar.”

  “You would really break your mother’s heart that way? And mine?” She crossed her arms. “When everyone else but you wants this, you would really disappoint everyone and bring shame to me by chasing after some dowdy, stupid maid?”

  “Poppy isn’t stupid,” Nick said, hear a shout. “And she’s a far kinder woman than you will ever be.”

  “You’re mine, Nick. You always have been.”

  Mavis wasn’t going to see sense. It was plain as day. Nick’s gut churned. He was going to have to do something drastic, something he didn’t want to do. But whether that was throwing Mavis over or disappointing his family, he didn’t know. He couldn't bear to see his mother lose something she’d set her heart on, not after losing his father the way she had. The poor woman had had enough sorrow for a lifetime.

 

‹ Prev