Chapter 16

16

D ougal bristled with frustration.

The entire point of his coming today had been to speak the truth, and he'd done a slapdash job at that. When he'd finally blurted out that being with Poppy was the only place he wanted to be, he could see he'd struck a chord in her, but then she'd run off. He couldn't decide whether she'd run off in disgust or she'd run off to put distance between them for her to think.

Part of his mind, the more reasonable part, instructed him to give her time to mull over what he'd said. After all, prior to his arrival, she'd likely cursed him to the darkest depths of the Hell. The other part told him to bolt after her and demand she listen because he was afraid of losing her. Afraid that he'd already wasted too much time not telling her how he felt.

Dougal reached the charming cottage, which was clear the women had been working hard to bring back to life, to hear the sounds through an open window of Lady Cullen cooing over Poppy and Anise fussing too.

Colonel Austen was standing in the center of the yard, looking as confused as a puppy in the rain. His friend eyed him as though he had something to say but couldn't remember how to make his mouth work.

"Out with it," Dougal demanded under his breath when he reached his side.

"Did ye tell her?"

Dougal grimaced. "I tried, but I hardly had the chance." He gestured toward the women, seen now through the drawing room window. They were hugging as though Poppy had disappeared well and truly for days and not merely hours. "Couldna get in the way of that reunion." Mentally, he nailed his feet in place, else he would march inside.

Austen nodded, looking slightly crestfallen. "Anise talked of nothing but Sir John the entire time we searched for Poppy."

Dougal grimaced. That must have been painful for his friend, who had most certainly found himself in love with the youngest Featherstone. "Saints, but she doesna realize what an arse he is."

"She will." Dougal's tone alluded to a confidence he didn't feel. What he was coming to understand in the past few weeks was that he didn't understand women at all.

"How so?"

Dougal cleared his throat, trying to reason it out himself. Then, he recalled a detail that Austen might not yet know. "The lad's gone off to France."

"He has?" Austen turned to face him, little lines of hope creasing the corners of his eyes.

Dougal was glad he could bring his friend some solace here. "Facing criminal charges. It'll be in the papers tonight, I'm certain."

Dougal wondered, did the ladies even get a newspaper?

Not that he'd sat with them for days on end, but the times he had, he didn't recall them reading anything other than books.

"We'll need to make certain they see it." Colonel Austen was standing straighter, then suddenly slumped. "It will break her heart."

Dougal understood his friend's dilemma. For his own bad news had broken Poppy's heart. "But ye'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"I will. And ye?"

"Unfortunately, Lucia has no' committed any crimes that I know of, besides wearing a brooch that allegedly contains a lock of my hair I'm no' certain how she obtained." Dougal still found that piece of information disturbing.

"Shame and also odd." Austen grinned.

"Aye, it would make this easier if Lucia had committed a crime, but alas, I do believe she is at the mercy of Campbell and has been compromised, which is no' her fault. I've told Poppy I'm no' betrothed, and I've told her I want to be here with her, but she's tossed me off at both declarations. I admit they were no' perhaps the most eloquent."

"Ye need to speak with her again."

"Aye." Dougal's gaze strayed back toward the window where the three women had sat down, none the wiser that the two men stood outside their window talking about them.

"Alone," Austen said.

"Aye." Dougal drew out the word. How the hell was he supposed to do that?

As if reading his thoughts, Austen said, "I will provide a distraction."

"Will ye now?" Dougal grinned at his friend.

"Aye. And perhaps we'll also discover a newspaper while we're about."

"Two birds, one stone?"

"Something like that." Colonel Austen left his side and let himself into the cottage, and Dougal watched him approach the ladies through the window.

Not to be left behind, Dougal hurried inside the cottage as well in time to hear Austen say, "Miss Anise, I have yet to try the creamery I saw in the village last night as we passed through. Have ye tried it yet?"

Anise blinked at him, her face a mystery as to what she was thinking. "A creamery?"

"Would ye care to join me? Ye and Lady Cullen?" Austen bowed slightly to the baroness.

"Aye, that would be delightful," Lady Cullen said, glancing at Poppy, who had not been included in the invitation.

Poppy glanced toward Dougal, her eyes slightly widening as her clever mind put together what was happening.

"Lord Reay asked to take a walk by the seaside, and I think I shall oblige him ." Poppy surprised him by voicing the mistruth. Though she wasn't wrong, he did want to walk alone with her by the seaside; he just hadn't been able to ask her yet.

"Oh," Lady Cullen said, glancing toward Dougal, her eyes narrowing a bit.

"I promise to take good care of your daughter," he said. "No seaside calamities on my watch."

Lady Cullen nodded. "I believe you, sir. Shall I call for our curricle, then?"

As the trio waited for the horses to be rigged up to the curricle, Dougal offered his arm to Poppy. She didn't take it, but she did walk beside him, and that was a huge win in his book.

They meandered away from the cottage, heading toward the sea-salt air of the cliffs. He contemplated at least thirty different ways to open the conversation and found each lacking.

"And what if I had said I wanted iced cream?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"I'd have gone with ye there."

"But you clearly wanted to get me alone." Was that a hint of teasing he heard in her tone?

"Dinna make it sound so nefarious, Miss Featherstone. I just wanted to talk."

"I'm listening."

Dougal had one chance to get this right, and he needed to tread carefully because if he failed now, there was no telling if she'd give him another shot. "I didna lie when I said I was no' engaged. And I didna lie when I said the only place I wanted to be was by your side."

Even though they did not touch, the air around her seemed to stiffen, and he could sense her shoring up her fortifications against anything he might say.

"Allow me to share a story of a foolish youth?" he asked.

"Sounds entertaining." She shrugged, and it was hard for him to get a full read on her tone.

Dougal grinned hopefully. "Entertaining if ye are no' me. Nearly ten years ago, I was deep in my cups with a bunch of lads from school. We were carousing harder than we should have. And a few ladies had sneaked out to partake with us. I think with the added feminine presence, we might have been competing a bit for attention."

Poppy gasped, and she glanced over at him, truly shocked. "Ladies? Alone? Drinking spirits?"

"Aye. It happens, though 'tis rare. Nothing untoward in the physical sense, but they did drink and dance, and mostly it was fun. But that night, I decided I was in love with one of them. And I told her that if I'd no' married by my twenty-ninth birthday, we should we. She agreed. I admit to being a total idiot, though at least I was an idiot who didna want to be tied down immediately." There, he'd said it, given her the entire sordid, stupid truth.

Poppy remained silent for a few moments, mulling over what he'd said, no doubt. "And how old are you now?"

"Twenty-eight."

"And your birthday?"

"Less than two weeks."

"Ah." Poppy drawled out the sound. "So, she has come calling."

Dougal let out a sigh, glad that Poppy seemed to understand exactly what he was trying to relay. "She has. I found out she was invited by my sister. I suspect for other reasons as well."

"Mary invited her?" Now Poppy looked annoyed.

"Aye, though I didn't know that before. I thought Lucia had only sent a letter to my aunt."

Poppy was silent, and when he glanced her way, he could see she was staring at the ground as they walked, her steps getting slower, brow furrowed.

"Why?" She glanced up at him, her nose wrinkled. "Why would Mary do that?"

Dougal let out a long sigh. "I have no idea. It's hard to guess the reason behind most of my sister's actions. Sometimes she's a gem, a real sweetheart, but those moments are so…"

"Rare?"

"Aye."

"Is she friends with Lucia? Maybe she wants to see you happy and believes the union would do that."

Her willingness to see the good in people was one of the reasons Dougal adored her. "That is verra charitable of ye to say."

"Which part? That Lucia would make you happy or that Mary wants it for you?"

"All of it." Dougal let out a long sigh. "Whatever Mary's reasons are, Lucia is no' going to make me happy." He stopped walking then, turning and taking her hands in his. She didn't pull away. "No' when I'm in love with someone else."

Poppy's eyes widened. "Who?"

"Oh, dear heavens, woman, ye ."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her eyes glistening as she blinked. "You love me?"

"I have from the moment I met ye. And I'm ashamed it has taken me so long to say it. I was scared. Afraid I wasna going to live up to what ye deserve in a man, a husband. And I ran. I ran from ye, I ran from a future with ye, and I ran from my own happiness."

"You love me," she said again, but this time it wasn't a question. "All this time."

"Aye."

She laughed softly. "You really are an idiot."

Dougal was stunned by her words until he saw the spark of mischief in her eyes. "Perhaps I am, but this idiot has fallen completely head over heels for ye."

Her laughter died down, and she gave him a serious look. "I'd be an idiot to marry an idiot."

"Ye're the smartest woman I've ever met."

"Alas, it's true. I do have a brain, though it's currently turned to mush."

Dougal dropped to his knees, her hands still clasped in his. "Poppy Featherstone, will ye do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She pursed her lips, eyeing him. "By what birthday? Thirty-nine?

"Today, right now."

She laughed. "Oh no, you'll not get out of this so easily."

"No?"

"I have lived the last year thinking I did something wrong. Then you came waltzing back into my life, and I thought maybe you'd changed your mind, only to find out you were engaged to another." For all she was saying, she didn't let go of his hands, and Dougal took that as a good sign as he listened. "It's going to take a lot more than you getting on your knees for me to say yes. Although, I will say, I do rather like seeing you in this position."

Dougal bit back a laugh, knowing this moment, though she'd added a tease, called for sincerity. "Anything. What do I have to do to prove to ye that I'm here, for ye, always?"

Poppy straightened her shoulders as she made her request. "I want to be wooed."

"I will woo ye until the end of our days together."

"Courted."

"I will never stop courting ye because even when we say I do, I want to win your affections every day that I'm lucky to call ye mine."

"My, you're good at this." Her lips curled. "I want to feel…"

"Important?"

"Desired."

Dougal stood then, tugging her toward him, holding her hands to his chest. "Poppy, I desire ye more than any woman I've ever encountered. Ye are exquisite. Your lips have the flavor of strawberry iced cream. So delicious that I could never desire to stray. I've no' kissed another since the moment I kissed ye in the gardens last year."

Her cheeks flushed pink.

"I desire your mind, your laugh, your gaze. I desire your kiss, the feel of your body against mine."

She gasped slightly.

"Dinna doubt my desire for ye, I beg ye. And there is nothing more important in my life than ye. 'Tis why I dropped everything in Edinburgh to chase after ye. I ran from ye once, and I'll never do it again. From this day forward, wherever ye are is where I want to be."

"I wanted to believe you when you said that earlier."

"Do ye believe me now?" He cupped the side of her face, stroking her soft skin with the pad of his thumb. "I want ye to trust me. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that I'm true."

Poppy stared into his eyes. "I want to."

"'Tis all right if ye're still a little skeptical. I will make it my mission to change your mind and solidify my trustworthiness."

She nodded. "I'm…" She let out a breath. "I admit to being overwhelmed. So much has changed in so little time, and it's hard to grasp all of it."

"I can understand that."

"My father's death. Leaving my childhood home. Being unwelcome in Edward's home. You being back in my life." She shook her head and swiped at a tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. "Sometimes it just feels as if the things I want are only fleeting."

Dougal nodded. "I canna bring your father back. Nor your childhood home. I canna change Mary or Edward, though I would happily try. What I can offer and give freely and lavishly is my love, a new home to make your own, and anything else ye might ask of me."

"Thank you, Dougal." She did smile then. "You're making good on your promise to woo me."

"This is only the start."

With her face turned up to his, Dougal wanted nothing more than to kiss her. To feel the lips he'd dreamed about for a year against his own. To taste the sugary sweetness of her mouth, the soft sighs of her breath on his face. He cupped her cheek, swiping his thumb over the soft arch, the tiny smatter of freckles.

"I want?—"

But before he could finish his statement of desiring to kiss her, Poppy leaned on her tiptoes, tossed her arms around his shoulders and pressed her mouth to his.

* * *

Poppy thought, too late, of course, that she probably shouldn't be kissing Dougal. She'd asked him to court her, woo her, prove to her that he was true, and now here, she'd gone and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was sweet at first, a softness giving way to something deeper, something hungrier. The year that spanned their last kiss and this moment melted away as they sighed into each other, the familiar feel of his mouth sliding over hers, his breath on her face.

And the all too familiar coil of heat in her belly, the curl of her toes in her slippers and her fingers against his jacket. How a simple kiss could ignite flames inside her was puzzling, but a puzzle she didn't feel she needed to solve, only one to keep in pieces where it would remain mysterious and cloying.

Dougal's arms came around her waist, the weight of his muscled limbs sinking into her frame like the comfort and spark of a long-lost lover. She imagined herself a heroine from a book, her lover gone so long at sea he had been feared dead, only to walk out of the ocean in one piece and fall to his knees before her.

This was going to be their fairy tale ending. This kiss on a salt-spray cliff, with the sounds of birds hovering in the clouds and the ocean crashing against the rocky crag. She would be quite happy to remain here forever. To make this very spot their world and his lips her home.

But just as all fairy tales come to an end, so, too, did her happy imaginings, as she picked up on something that Dougal had said earlier.

He had to marry by his twenty-ninth birthday, which was a fortnight away.

Doubt started to creep in. Was he only wooing her, kissing her, to get her to say yes because she was a better option than Lucia Steventon?

"What's wrong?" Dougal's hands pressed to her cheeks, his hooded gaze on hers, as he pulled away from their kiss to meet her eyes.

Poppy bit her lower lip, holding in her mind's fearful road.

"Poppy, please. Tell me."

"You need to marry by your twenty-ninth birthday. Am I just a convenient choice?"

Dougal groaned. His hands slipped from her face but didn't leave her as they settled on her shoulders.

His eyes bore into hers, staid. "Nay. I wouldna, or willna, or anything other w-word, marry Lucia, whether ye were to agree to be my wife or no'."

"And I have yet to agree," she reminded him, just in case.

"I know." He said it softly, a small smile on his lips. "And even if it takes to my thirty-ninth or forty-ninth to get ye to agree, I willna stop trying."

"Then I may make you wait."

"If that's what it takes."

She nodded. "What are the consequences?"

"There are none. My inheritance is not linked to my birthday, only that I do eventually provide an heir. Lucia's insistence that we are betrothed is based on a drunken suggestion. Claiming witnesses, but they were all as inebriated as I was, and she'd also have to admit she had been behaving improperly, which would be an embarrassment to her father. Furthermore, I have reason to suspect her prior engagement to a rival of mine at Oxford may have compromised her, and he denied her, so she's grasping at straws."

Poppy's hand rested over his heart. "You're much more than a stalk of straw."

"I agree." He smiled. "I'm at least a thistle or an oak."

"Definitely a pine." Poppy's smile faltered. "All jesting aside, Dougal. Does Lucia know that you will not marry her?"

"I've told her and her father as much. And my solicitor has also now gotten involved." He let out a long sigh. "In fact, I'm awaiting news from my solicitor as to the results of said confrontation. While Lucia is grasping and likely a fallen woman, I in no way want to further besmirch her reputation. I merely had my solicitor inform her father that there would be no offer of marriage. And then, in a note as gently and delicately as I could, reminded her of how our connection, and lack thereof, came to be. If she were so inclined to have a solicitor prepare legal documents, she should go after Campbell himself, not me."

"Her prior fiancé?"

"Aye."

"And the father of her child?"

"I canna confirm if she's with child or if Campbell is the father, but it is what I suspect."

"What a shame she would try to dupe you." Poppy frowned.

"Aye. But I'd no' be the first scapegoat. Besides," he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, "none of that matters, no' when I have ye."