Chapter 17

17

P oppy could have remained where she stood for the rest of the day, the week, the month, contemplating everything that had happened, changed, in the last hour.

Dougal loved her.

Dougal was vulnerable. Opening up to how he'd run away from her, from London, in fear. She was still mad about it. A year of misery when they could have had a simple conversation, but the fact that he was opening up to her about it now meant the world to her. And she was open to forgiving him.

Dougal had pledged his life to her.

To her . Poppy Featherstone. She was the woman Dougal Mackay placed upon a pedestal.

As they turned to head back toward the cottage, she had to pinch herself. Was this really happening? The pinch stung, and so she wasn't asleep. Good sign. That meant the kiss, his declaration, his promises were all real.

Dougal tucked her arm around his elbow as they walked, the flex of his muscles beneath her hand enticing her to gently squeeze. He flexed again and grinned down at her.

As the cottage came into view, Dougal paused his steps, and she, too, came to a stop.

"What is it?" Fragile still, she saw her current bliss coming to an end.

"There is something ye should know afore we get inside and greet your sister and mother." Dougal's expression had turned grave, and Poppy felt suddenly ill.

Pressing a hand to her belly, she said, "Tell me."

"'Tis about Sir John, and Anise is bound to be heartbroken." Dougal glanced at her, his face full of regret for whatever he was about to relay.

"Was she so obvious in her…affection for him?" Poppy's cheeks colored.

"I may have heard about it or noticed it." Dougal smiled, though it was filled with a sadness Poppy wished she didn't have to see.

"She fancies herself in love with him, but I don't trust him," she admitted.

"And with good reason." Dougal rubbed a hand over his face. "There will be things written in the newspaper about him. He's been accused of…damaging a few ladies' reputations. Charged with criminal conversation."

Poppy's eyes widened. Oh, dear heavens, it was worse than she thought. And Anise—had she been one of those ladies? She didn't think they'd been alone too often, but Poppy had been preoccupied with her grief.

"He's…" Dougal pressed his lips together to stop himself from saying another word.

"He's what?" she urged.

Dougal looked so conflicted, and she imagined he was searching for the right words. "He has a disease."

Poppy gasped. Poor Sir John! Flashes of their friend home in bed, wasting away, came into her mind. "Oh no, what kind of disease?"

Poppy had to blink as she watched Dougal, one of the manliest men she'd ever come across, blush.

"The kind that passes between a man and a woman." Judging by the tight guttural sounds, he practically choked on the words as he said them.

"Oh, my goodness." Poppy's cheeks might as well have burst into flames for all the heat she felt in them, and now she understood why Dougal was blushing. "Like Henry VIII?"

"Exactly." He looked relieved that he wouldn't have to explain further.

"And well, there has been one death associated with his…affections."

"What? A death? She wasn't treated?"

"She hid her illness, and so no, was no' treated. And came down with a fever from one of the sores becoming infected. And then, well, she passed."

Poppy's heart seized in her chest. The poor creature. "My… That is so awful."

"Verra." Dougal's face was grim, his lips set in a straight line. He looked off into the distance for a moment and she wanted to know what he was thinking but was too nervous to ask.

But she did need to clarify one thing. "And you're sure it was Sir John?"

Dougal nodded grimly. "Aye. He fled. I suspect he'll no' be back to Scotland, or England for that matter."

Poppy's hand came to her chest, and she swallowed hard, her attention drawn to the curricle coming around a bend in the road as they returned from the village iced cream excursion. The vehicle, thank heavens, held her sister, who she hoped was safe from the affliction Sir John had so callously passed on to others.

"She is going to be heartbroken," Poppy whispered.

"Aye."

"Does Colonel Austen know?" she asked.

"Aye, and he loves her."

Poppy nodded. "I thought as much. She had esteem for Colonel Austen, too, before Sir John came about."

"Then perhaps he will be able to woo her back to him."

"Perhaps."

They hurried back to the cottage in silence so they might meet the trio as they dismounted from the curricle. They both worried about what was going to happen when the three arrived. Had Anise already found out about Sir John? Should Poppy tell her sister?

What kind of a question was that? She should definitely tell Anise. The man might have compromised her, too, if he'd not run off after last night's dance. That also explained why he'd not come to call today. And why had Anise had been so eager to visit the village with the colonel? She likely hoped to spy Sir John, which would have been fruitless. And if she'd seen a newspaper…

They'd just arrived at the front yard of the cottage when the colonel rushed out, and screeching from inside filled the air.

"What's happened?" Poppy asked, though she thought she might know the answer.

Colonel Austen blanched and looked full of regret, though Sir John's situation was not his fault. "Your sister is distraught. Rather sad news, I'm afraid, about?—"

"Sir John," Poppy finished.

"Aye." He cast his eyes toward Dougal, who nodded.

"How did she find out?" Poppy asked.

"I regret that it was wagging tongues. I'd hoped to inform her more gently."

"Not a newspaper?"

Austen shook his head. "Just town gossip at the creamery," he said with a grimace and turned back toward the house at the sound of a crash.

Both men started to run for the door, but Poppy rushed in front of them, stopping them with a hand on both their chests. It'd been years since her sister threw a tantrum that resulted in breaking items, but it appeared Anise's disagreeable habit was returning, and she was not about to let it be witnessed.

"Just a little bout of…upset," Poppy said with a forced smile. "Best you leave this to my mother and me. And perhaps come by tomorrow for tea?"

Both men looked stricken, neither wanting to leave for different reasons, she was sure, but witnessing her sister have an epic tantrum was not exactly the memory she wanted them to have. Already, the screeching and crashing were embarrassing enough.

Dougal nodded first, followed by the colonel.

"Tomorrow," Dougal said. "We'll come for tea."

"Aye," Colonel Austen agreed, his eyes on a window to the left, where Poppy hoped the shades were drawn.

"Have a good evening," Poppy said, giving them the tiniest nudge with her fingers to go.

They doffed their hats, retreating to their horses, and she didn't wait to see them go before she whirled around and entered the house. Anise was shouting and sobbing in the drawing room, and their mother's words were drowned out by the noise.

Poppy opened the drawing room door to see that several precious books had been thrown—the crashes they'd heard—along with a vase of flowers.

Anise rounded on her sister. "Oh, Poppy, the worst has come to pass."

Poppy did not believe this was the worst. She could name several other more terrible things that had happened to them in the past few months, but she didn't say that. Instead, she picked up the mess as she asked, "What's happened?"

"Sir John has gone! Fled the country, and I'll likely never see him again!" she wailed.

That was the worst? She didn't care that he carried a disease that killed a woman? That he'd been spreading himself over all of Britain and leaving a wake of illness behind him?

But perhaps Anise didn't know that part. It was a rather delicate subject.

Before Poppy could try and explain what had happened with Sir John, Anise fled the room, leaving her with their mother to stare after the space she'd occupied.

"Mama," Poppy said, "there's more to the story."

Mama sighed. "I know. When Anise and the colonel were getting into the curricle, I pretended to have left my gloves in the creamery. I went back inside and asked the gossiping crowd what had happened."

"Then you know he wasn't honorable."

"I do." Her mother's nod was resigned. "But how did you?"

"Dougal told me while we were on our walk."

"Ah. A shame, but I'm glad we found out before it was too late. Could you imagine?" Mama's fan popped out of her sleeve and opened to fan off her reddening cheeks. It wasn't a question so much as an invitation to view the horrors of what could have come to pass.

"We must count our blessings that we found out when we did." Poppy sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

"Indeed." Mama sank onto one of the chairs. "I'm so disappointed, though. I had high hopes that she would make a match."

"She might yet. The colonel seems to fancy her."

"Aye, but I'm not so certain your sister fancies the colonel."

Poppy nodded. "Time will tell."

"Mmm."

* * *

The following morning, Anise did not come to breakfast, and Poppy and her mother seemed resigned to allowing her a day to feel better.

At tea, when Dougal and the colonel arrived, she still refused to come down. Not even the biscuits Dougal brought could entice her, nor the stack of new books the colonel brought for them to read.

After an hour, when it was apparent she would not be making an appearance, the colonel begged his leave, and Dougal offered to go on a walk with Poppy, who claimed she needed fresh air.

"How is your sister?" he asked when they were out of earshot of the cottage.

"Mourning."

"Sir John has that effect on people."

"So it seems. They hardly knew one another, so I'm not sure she so much mourns him as a person as she mourns the life she dreamed she'd have. Moving to Skerray has been an adjustment for us all, but it's been hardest on Anise."

"How are ye faring?" Dougal searched her face when she gazed at him, and his concern warmed her heart.

Poppy flashed him a smile. "Better than my sister. But I prefer the outdoors like this. I find peace in it, and she'd rather find peace at a party or lady's luncheon."

"This new life must be hard for her then."

"I believe it is."

"What is the life ye dream of having?" Dougal asked.

Poppy opened her mouth, thinking she had an answer, but then closed it again, her gaze on the rippling water over the cliff's edge they walked along. "I thought I used to know what I wanted. Now I'm not so sure."

"What did ye used to want?"

They came to an outcropping of rocks, and Poppy perched on one, Dougal beside her.

"I used to want a life very much like what we had. A townhouse in Edinburgh, another in London. Country houses in the north of England and the Highlands of Scotland. Traveling from one place to another with an endless calendar of fun."

"Sounds amusing," he smiled.

"It is, to a degree. But then we came here, and life is slower, simpler, calmer. And," she gestured toward the sea, "there is this incredible view I never knew I wanted to sit and stare at for hours."

"And your desire for what ye want in life has changed."

She nodded. "I still don't know what that looks like, but perhaps something in between."

"Castle Varrich sits on a coastal cliff." She could tell he was trying to entice her by his expression.

"Does it?" She cocked her head to the side, a small smile on her lips.

"Aye, over the Kyle of Tongue. With a view of the mountains, Ben Loyal and Ben Hope."

Poppy sighed, imagining what it would be like to wake up to a view like that every morning. "I like the sounds of those mountains. Loyal and Hope, the things that bring us peace."

"Aye." Dougal smiled. "'Tis peaceful there, breathtaking. I think ye'd like it."

"Then perhaps we ought to visit?"

"I would be happy to bring ye for a visit."

"And maybe Anise too?" she asked. "To get her out of her melancholy. A castle might do the trick."

Dougal nodded. "What it doesna do, the mountains might."

They walked back to the house, but before they arrived, he tugged her behind a tree, pressing his spine against it and tugging her close enough to smell the delicious pine scent of him.

Dougal glanced down at her mouth, and she suddenly knew what he wanted. The same thing she did. A kiss.

She closed her eyes as he leaned toward her, soaking up the feel of his lips brushing over hers. Every part of her came alive with the touch of lips on lips. Tingles, shivers and a wicked heat pooled in her belly. Poppy lifted her arms around his shoulders to bring herself closer. Dougal's hands cupped her face, and he deepened the kiss with a swipe of his tongue over her lower lip and then began to duel with hers.

As swiftly as his kiss had begun, it ended. She stared up at him, a little dazed.

"Something to remember me by." And he tucked a small yellow flower behind her ear; she hadn't even realized he'd picked one.

"I could never forget you, Dougal. I'll see you tomorrow."

"A picnic by the water."

"Sounds like heaven." And she imagined there might be more kisses like this one.

The following day, after breakfast, a carriage arrived from Castle Varrich for the ladies to make their way. Mama begged her pardon, remaining behind and sending Poppy and Anise off without her.

The journey was less than an hour, and the sun shone on the water of the Kyle of Tongue and spread golden fingers through the forests covering the mountains.

"'Tis beautiful," Poppy murmured.

Anise had yet to recover, eyes puffy, mouth frowning, but even she couldn't help peering out the window of the carriage at the breathtaking landscape.

"I never thought when coming out to the Highlands for our house arrest that we'd be spending the day at a castle." Her bemused mention of the castle softened the slight sarcasm of her statement about their imprisonment.

"I'm grateful for those we know."

"I'm just glad he didn't turn out to be a world-class jackass," Anise said, raising a brow at her sister. "Not like the one I fell for."

"Sir John was charming and handsome. It's not your fault he duped you."

"Oh, Poppy, you can say that all you want, but I should have seen past the charm."

"There's no way you could have. He wouldn't let you."

Anise rolled her eyes. "I'll never fall for another man like that again. Maybe no man at all. I'll just let myself age up into a dried prune of a spinster and live out my life taking care of Mama until we both perish."

Poppy refrained from rolling her eyes. Anise was doing a fabulous "Woe is me" job, and she hoped she stopped before the carriage did. Today was supposed to be fun, not sour.

Dougal was waiting for them outside the castle, a large dog sitting stoically beside him. Poppy couldn't help but smile as the carriage door opened and she hopped down.

"Who is this?" she asked, offering her hand to the dog for a sniff.

"This is Sentry."

"Oh, a perfect name for a brave guard dog."

Sentry gave her a lick on her hand, and she found herself crouching before him to scratch behind his ears and coo.

"All that cooing, and he'll be no good at guarding, only wanting the love of a woman."

"Did your superior officers say that to you?" she teased as she glanced up at Dougal.

Dougal laughed hard, his head falling back with the force of it, and then they both turned to see Anise, who had finally decided to climb out of the carriage.

She looked up at the large castle walls and the windows that glistened in the sun. "You have a lovely castle, Lord Reay."

"Thank ye, Miss Anise. One I'm happy to share with friends."

She smiled tightly at Dougal. "I appreciate your generosity."

The door opened then with the colonel rushing from inside the castle. "I do apologize for no' being here to greet ye," he said, "I had a letter to finish that was most urgent." As if to punctuate that, a footman rode off on horseback from around the side of the castle.

"Colonel Austen," Anise said. The light that had been dull and faded in her eyes was somewhat lightening. "This is a pleasant surprise. I didn't realize you'd be here."

"Ah, aye," he said. "I've been staying with Dougal."

This was knowledge that had been shared upon their first visit, but Anise, too enamored with thoughts of Sir John, must not have listened.

"That's lovely to have such good friends." Anise's smile was sad, and she likely thought of the friends she'd had to leave behind.

Perhaps Poppy should write to them and invite them for a stay. Their house was rather small, but if she and Anise bunked up, they could have at least two in the other room.

The idea had merit, and she'd need to think more about it. Whatever to get her sister out of her melancholy.

"'Tis such a beautiful day. Shall we take Sentry for a walk by the Kyle?" Dougal said. "He does love to chase sticks in the water."

"I would love to see your property and to throw a stick."

Sentry took off running around the side of the castle on a path that led to Kyle, and the four of them followed, Dougal and Poppy in the front and Anise at a much slower pace behind.

Though her sister was rather melancholy, there had at least been a spark upon seeing the colonel. A familiar and trusted face. Perhaps that was just what her sister needed to get her moving toward the light again.