Hester had a deep frown fixed on her face. “Lauren told me my tree was too tall.” She held up the piece of glass for Poppy to study. “Do you think it is too tall?”
Poppy took a moment to study the piece of glass and the tree in question. She turned the glass to the left and to the right and squinted, making her expression quite serious. Poppy tapped her chin and paused. “I believe that if the tree were painted with some bushes beside it, then it would look absolutely perfect.”
Hester beamed up at Poppy as she grabbed for the piece of glass. “Thank you, my lady.”
Poppy leaned close and said softly, “I’ve heard that there are trees that grow straight to the heavens in America with trunks that are bigger than a traveling carriage.” She stretched her arms as wide as they could go.
“Truly, my lady?” Hester’s eyes grew wide with fascination.
“Indeed.” Poppy nodded solemnly. “In fact, I will search for a book at the lending library and we can see for ourselves.”
Hester smiled beautifully, then turned to return to her painting supplies.
Poppy glanced at the watch pinned to her bodice. “Girls, it is time for us to clean up our easels and put away our supplies until next week.” Time flew when she was with the girls. She was proud of the time she spent teaching. She felt useful, not just another pretty girl with nothing to do but simper and smile.
Once the supplies stashed away in the cupboards, the three girls lined up and curtsied. “Good day, my lady.” They chorused.
“Good afternoon, I will see you all next week.” Poppy smiled.
Poppy stepped into the hall and in no time, at all three small girls sought her attention. “Lady Poppy!” they cried, each curtsied then grabbed for her hands. Two of the girls smiled revealing their recently lost teeth.
“Look, m’lady.” Gretchen pointed excitedly to her mouth. “My toof is missing.”
“Mine too.” Bonnie pointed to the hole in her mouth.
“How marvelous,” Poppy said with a smile, enchanted by the charming lisps. “Has the tooth fairy visited you already?”
“Yes, m’lady,” the girls chorused.
With an excited glow in their eyes, both girls dug around in the pockets of their pinafores, then held up their small hands, palm flat a shiny new coin lying in the center. “Look what we got.” Gretchen and Bonnie each held up a farthing.
She took a step closer and lightly touched the coin in each girl’s hand with a look of awe on her face. “How delightful,” Poppy encouraged. “Be sure to purchase something nice.”
“Yes, m’lady.” The three nodded fervently.
Poppy then turned to the smallest of the three little girls and crouched down to eye level. “Have you lost any teeth yet, Beatrice?” Poppy asked.
The smaller of the girls, a skinny little child with bright red hair braided in pigtails, held a little doll cradled in her arms. She gently rocked the bundle back and forth, all the while humming sweetly.
Beatrice shook her head. “Shhh…” She whispered, holding a tiny finger to her lip. “Daphne is sleeping.”
Poppy stepped closer and peeked gingerly at the bundle in Beatrice’s arms. “Oh, I do beg your pardon.” She smiled down at the ragdoll with large button eyes. “I will try not to wake her up.” Beatrice bent low over the sleeping bundle singing sweetly as she walked away.
Poppy couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.
Gretchen and Bonnie soon followed, running off with their money clasped tightly in their small fists to show the other ladies their newly acquired treasure.
***
A warm smile spread across Poppy’s face as she watched the children playing on the lawn returning the waves of the children who stopped to watch as the carriage drove by.
“I believe the idea you shared this afternoon is marvelous, darling.” Adele smiled widely. “And so did everyone else I’d wager.”
“I love it when their faces light up.” Piper sighed, leaning her forehead against the window of the carriage. “Did you speak with Gretchen and Beatrice today?”
“Yes dear.” Adele patted Poppy’s knee. “They remind me of you and Piper when you were little girls. You were both so adorable without your front teeth.”
Poppy glanced at her aunt and crossed her eyes.
“What a silly and sweet girl you are.” Adele sat back in the carriage. “You can count me in. It’s a delightful plan.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Hear my soul speak of the very instant that I saw you,
Did my heart fly at your service.
The Tempest
*William Shakespeare
Declan reined in at the start of the long drive, taking a moment to study the elm lined path that wound its way to his destination with bright green manicured lawns spread out on either side. He had no reason to feel anxious. Not him. He was a master at charming a room full of people, or at least had been in the past. He had not felt the need to test that particular skill in a long while, but there was no reason why he could not handle himself at an intimate house party.
As the only remaining son of the dukedom, he had a responsibility to carry on the family name. Over the past few years, he had spent his time taking care of his home, recovering from his immense heartache, ignoring social niceties, and definitely ignoring his obligations.
He hoped he did not embarrass himself.
He drew in a deep breath, touched his heels to his Arabians flanks and cantered down the lane. As Rosebriar came into view, his heart lifted in anticipation. He needed this change. He needed to be back in society again. He needed not to be alone.
He slowed to a walk, letting the soft summer breeze soothe his abraded nerves. This would be his last summer as a single man before the Season commenced. These would be his last moments of freedom before he forced himself to find a suitable bride. Too bad, he had never been able to spend more than five minutes in the company of the simpering young ladies of the ton.
However, he could no longer pretend that he might live forever. That had already been proven false time and time again.
He rounded the bend flanked by tall trees, as if standing at attention in greeting. His attention captured by the three-story redbrick and limestone façade with gables and turrets framed by hedges and crowned with golden sunlight that enhanced the magnificent landscape. It was definitely a most impressive sight and as beautiful as his home. A fair second, he felt the corner of his lip lift in the beginnings of a smile.
He squared his shoulders. He could rusticate here for a couple of weeks...
***
Poppy stepped outside and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of honeysuckle. After today, the house will be full. There would be no quiet peaceful moments such as this for at least two full weeks.
She headed towards the garden she had created, her small slice of heaven. Her riotous spirit mirrored by the wild garden. Nothing tamed. The unbridled chaos she created inside these walls allowed her to escape from all the rules and regulations expected of her by society.
The sweet smells filled her senses. The butterflies fluttered above. The buzzing bees provided their own special symphony. What others considered weeds, Poppy considered beautiful flowers. Cherry blossoms, bluebells, daisies, sunflowers, violets, even a common musk thistle grew among the magnificent assortment. Wayward Ivy completed the garden; covering the stonewall that surrounded her secluded hideaway. As she walked down the rows, it was as if she pushed her way through a flower tunnel.
No particular order.
No particular rules.
She pushed her way through the flowering mass and sat on one of the wrought-iron benches under an isolated trellis, shut her eyes and just breathed. Her senses soared and her thoughts took over as she sat in the serene atmosphere of her garden absorbing the essence of life around her.
Quite obviously many believed her past three seasons were failures. Poppy strenuously disagreed. She had figured out the most important aspects of
marriage what she desired in a husband and what she did not.
How many times had the ton compared her to a diamond? Had anyone ever stop to consider that maybe she did not want to be a diamond? She liked rubies, emeralds and sapphires equally as well. Sapphires brought out the color of her eyes anyway. Besides, it was not as if she did not ‘take’. Why, she had three rather dramatic proposals of marriage and undying love her first week out alone. She could not even count the amount of hothouse bouquets she had received. Boring and overdone. She despised hothouse flowers.
Not one of her suitors had even bothered to find out what flower she preferred. None even made an exerted effort to get to know her. Her wants, her desires, her likes. They just expected her to be an exact replica of every other girl who came out year after year after year. A beautiful vacuous female they could tuck neatly away in the country allowing them the opportunity to live their lives of depravity elsewhere. That was exactly what le bon ton expected of her. She rolled her eyes caustically, to make an exceptional match to some lackluster stranger just because he had a title and she had the blunt.
Well she had other plans. Loftier plans. She planned to chat over breakfast with her husband while reading The Times just as she had done with her papa and now with her brothers. She required her future husband to have some expectation that she had a brain and that she could use it. She did have the ability to partake in intelligent conversations.
She desired passion. She had been bored to tears with the men who courted her in London within five minutes in their company, let alone contemplating being with them for a lifetime. Not in a million years was she going to accept that kind of life.
She dreamed of a love match just as Piper did or no match at all. An enigmatic smile covered her lips. She refused to be just another ornament on another man’s arm and that was final. Luckily, she could afford to be finicky.
An expected interruption intruded on her quiet reflections.
“Georgie!” She cried. “Where have you been?”
Poppy’s tiny pug companion joined her during her morning ritual. He bounced and yipped in a frenzied exuberance for life. She leaned towards Georgie, snuggled him close to her bosom and embraced him with giggles.
“Georgie, what have you been into?” Her eyes narrowed. “I can tell by the look in your eyes that you have been an ornery little boy.”
Georgie gazed adoringly back at her as he delivered little wet kisses on her upturned face.
Declan froze after ducking under the flower filled archway. He blinked; sure that she was a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t catch his breath, he felt the need to sit down. He was in awe of the vision before him. He was transfixed, riveted by the ethereal vision of loveliness as the early afternoon sun bathed her in its warm glow and the heady scent of the flowers enveloped them with their perfume.
He couldn’t stop the flow of words. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” His deep, gravelly voice intruded on the affectionate display, a faint smile tugging on his lips.
Startled, with a strangled yelp, Poppy’s breath caught. Standing she turned suddenly. “Excuse me?” She exclaimed letting out her strangled breath on a whoosh, she placed her hand over her wildly beating heart. Jerking her gaze up, she looked into eyes the color of costly emeralds.
“I had no idea that Ash was keeping fairies captive in his garden or I would have seen fit to arrive sooner.” Having spent the last year tucked away at his country estate, she was definitely a welcome diversion, a tempting bit of fluff if he had ever seen one.
“Who are you?” Curiosity mingled with concern. She glanced around helplessly, trapped in her own slice of heaven. Her heart thumped wildly at being alone with a complete stranger without means of escape.
A tall, dark, exceedingly male stranger.
Poppy felt her pulse leap as she stared, fascinated at the breathtaking man looming over her.
She flushed because of her outburst and then glanced down when she remembered her lack of shoes. Blast. She glanced around frantically for a second trying to locate the missing articles. Did a lack of shoes count as hoydenish behavior?
“Heavens, you gave me a fright!” He was definitely one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on. Her mouth watered just looking at him. She swallowed and dragged in a desperately needed breath. Impressed by the picture before her, perhaps she would make an exception if he sent her some hothouse flowers. It is such a trifling transgression, after all.
Declan’s typically disciplined desires rebelled. His mind was bursting with unruly thoughts. The beauty before him aroused something wild and primitive, something he had believed he would never feel again.
She was such a tiny little thing but curved in all the right places. Appreciative of her form his groin tightened. He had definitely been without a woman for far too long, he thought ruefully. Why did he have a feeling that his self-imposed exile was going to catch up with him on this trip? Fighting for control and quickly losing the battle. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. The last thing he had expected to find was her.
“Pardon, my lady.” He bowed elegantly before her. “I hope you forgive my intrusion, but I noticed that little ball of fur.” He tilted his head towards Georgie. “He was bounding towards this wall with an abundant enthusiasm and my curiosity got the better of me.”
“You know what they say about curiosity.” She flushed under his perusal, her nervousness causing her tongue to run away. “Oh…” She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.
He filled his lungs with air and slowly exhaled. “Please allow me to introduce myself, I am Declan Trenowyth. I must compliment you on your companion. He is adorable.” He couldn’t stop his eyes from devouring her delicious form, his eyes glittering in amusement.
Poppy sucked in a breath at the mention of his name. Filled with her usual boundless energy she released Georgie and rushed forward with outstretched hands. ““A name I know so well. I feel as if we have already been introduced, Your Grace.” She dip into an elegant curtsy. “How nice it is to finally meet one of Parker’s dearest friends.”
Declan inwardly groaned. Her moist, red lips were calling to him. He accepted her outstretched hands and inclined his head.
“I am Poppy Peregrine, Parker is my brother,” she pointed out with a bright smile.
His large hands engulfed hers. Tiny and delicate like the most expensive china. Neither wore gloves and the touch of his naked flesh against her own sent streaks of lightening through her fingertips. She shivered at the roughness, surprised at the calluses that scraped across her delicate skin.
Damnation, Ashford’s sister? He pressed her hand briefly before releasing it and stepping back from the temptation to toss her over his shoulder and make off with her. Returning to Allingham Park and locking her away from the rest of the world.
He attempted to tamp down any lascivious ideas he might have had for her. It would never do to seduce his best friend’s shockingly delectable sister, especially since he was a guest.
“Please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony with me,” he interjected. “Call me Declan, Hawksley or Hawk.” He smiled wryly. His eyes flashed with some hidden emotion. “I’m still getting used to the title you see, but I will answer to any or all.” He laughed huskily. “And I’ve been called worse.”
“Hawksley it is then.” Poppy grinned, revealing a delicious dimple in her left cheek. She stood silent for a minute, then repeated, “Hawksley.” She liked the sound. “Such a formidable name. I imagine it to be a perfect name given to a knight. I bet men must have been frightened of your ancestors just by the name alone. The Duke of Hawksley, it rolls powerfully off your tongue, does it not. Why I…” Poppy cut off her sentence abruptly when she realized she was rambling like a bedlamite. Suddenly surrounded by quiet, she pursed her lips and blushed prettily.
What a perfect ninny she must sound, she had never allowed a man’s beauty to addle her wits and she was not about to start now. If this is how
she acted in London, no wonder she had not found a husband. She scolded herself. She could not quiet herself long enough for a man to court her properly. She groaned softly, glancing up through her thick lashes.
Declan slanted a glance in her direction, his lips quirked. Squatting down he gently ruffled the fur on Georgie’s back, but did not say a word.
Intrigued by this stranger and doubly impressed with his height and build. A bona fide giant stood before her. Poppy always thought Parker was a giant but he must be a dwarf compared to Hawksley. She felt almost childlike. He was an extremely attractive man, big, powerful and dangerous to look at. His cheekbones high, his nose straight except for the slight bump that indicated it had been broken at least once in the past and well-formed lips. A dark giant with sun-bronzed skin topped by short-cropped hair as black as sin worn naturally tousled as if he couldn’t be bothered with it.
His dress was that of a dashing country gentleman, snug buckskins covered his lean hips and well-muscled thighs. Top boots with a fine coating of dust from his travels covered his feet and his broad shoulders encased in a bottle green riding coat that perfectly mimicked the color of his eyes. He looked every inch a man of aristocratic blood, but with the well-honed muscles of a man used to physical labor. Callused hands and muscles, intriguing.
Overall, he was a rather impressive example of manhood. He was hard, strong and undeniably male. He was simply perfect.
Poppy couldn’t wait until Piper clapped eyes on him, she would have a stroke. If she had designed the perfect man, here he was standing in front of her, not a receding hairline or weak chin in sight. He was mouthwatering, her tongue swept out to wet her suddenly dry lips.
She stilled when he spoke, the deep rumble of his voice warmed her all the way to her toes. Speaking of which, she attempted to curl her toes under her skirt as she surreptitiously looked around for her shoes. Where can my slippers have gone? Great, so much for making a good impression, she clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized she once more groaned aloud.
Ruin Me Please Page 4
