Chapter 19

19

"L adies, ladies," Mama practically yelped as she bustled into the drawing room, whipping off her bonnet, her cheeks pink as if she'd run all the way from her tea in town with a friend rather than taking the curricle.

"What's happened?" Poppy was immediately on edge. There had to have been some news. There could be no other reason for their mother's flurry and pitch. A war must have broken out somewhere. Or perhaps Mary had succumbed to a fever.

"The ladies in town are all agog with news from Edinburgh."

"Do tell us," Anise said, tossing her book aside in favor of gossip.

"Well, it would seem that a certain young lady who has been plaguing you, Poppy, has eloped, and there are rumors that she is…" Her mother inhaled and looked side to side, then got up and shut the drawing room door as if their servants might take this gossip and spread it wide. "That she is with child," she whispered.

Poppy's face colored at having already known this was possibly the case, given what Dougal had told her about Lucia and because what she'd done with him the day before could have nearly put her in the same position if they hadn't stopped when they did.

She was glad Dougal had the sense to hold back when she'd been willing to give him everything. Because Lucia was proof of what could happen when a man made promises and didn't keep them. Not that she would compare Dougal to Campbell at all, but one did need to protect themselves until the ring was on the finger.

"Did she elope with Campbell?" Poppy asked.

Her mother looked at her sharply. "How did you know?"

Poppy shrugged. "Lucky guess? I had heard they had an attachment previously."

"Well, it's true. They have eloped to Gretna Green and her father is beside himself."

Interesting they chose that iconic place to elope when in Scotland they could have gotten married anywhere.

"Is he? But why? If Campbell is the father of the child that she carries? He has done the honorable thing. I'd think her father would be ecstatic."

Mama shivered as if Poppy had said something truly heinous. "Maybe he's not the father."

"Oh," Anise frowned. "Then why would he elope with her?"

"Good point. He probably is the father." Mama made a moaning sound and flicked her fan harder.

"We needn't speculate on the father," Poppy said. "The good news is that Lucia has finally married, and it isn't to Dougal."

Anise grinned. "Is it too early for champagne?"

Their mother gasped. "Anise!"

"What?" she shrugged. "Aren't ladies allowed to celebrate good news? Dougal is free to marry Poppy."

Her mother turned her eagle eyes on Poppy now. "Has he asked? The two of you have been spending an awful lot of time together."

Poppy swallowed, remembering how he'd begged her to be his wife in the garden, down on his knees in front of her. Told her he couldn't go another day without knowing she was his… Dear heavens. Heat crept up from her chest, circling her neck before slapping against her cheeks. She had to look away briefly, afraid her face would tell all her secrets.

"He has." She was proud of herself for being able to say it without her voice cracking or without collapsing from how boneless she felt at the memories of their wicked and delicious embraces.

"Oh my, I think we definitely need champagne," Anise said again. "Two good news items in ten minutes? How could we not?"

"It is highly inappropriate," their mother said, flopping delicately on the sofa.

"Who would know besides us?" Anise argued.

Poppy nodded, imagining the bubbles might settle the sudden rapid beating of her heart. "She has a point."

"The servants would think us drunkards." Mama frowned.

Anise wiggled her brows. "Perhaps they'd like to join us."

"Oh no, no, no." Mama flopped again.

But they didn't have time to get the champagne or even offer a glass of anything to their servants as they heard the sounds of a rider outside the cottage.

"Who is that?" Mama asked, bounding toward the window with Poppy and Anise, her weakness suddenly gone. "Lord Reay." Her mother turned to look at Poppy. "Did you know he was coming?"

"I didn't." Though she'd hoped against hope.

"Everyone sit," Mama instructed. "Pretend to be busy doing whatever it is men think we do in drawing rooms besides gossip."

Anise grabbed her book. Mama opened her knitting basket. And Poppy, too stunned to do anything, stared at the door until there was a soft knock, and their Jack of all trades opened the door and announced Dougal's arrival.

Dougal stepped into the drawing room, his gaze immediately on Poppy. "Miss Featherstone," he murmured. "Lady Cullen, Miss Anise."

"Welcome," Poppy said, her brain suddenly a blank canvas and all words evaporating like steam on a bath. One look at Dougal, and she was melting where she stood, phantom memories of her legs wrapped around him, her mouth on his.

"If I might have a word with Miss Featherstone," he asked her mother.

"Oh, I think you can call her Poppy," her mother said with a slight laugh as if it were all very silly, but Poppy's nerves made her stomach do flips, and his use of formality made it worse, so she was grateful in fact for her mother's sudden departure of proper address.

"Yes," Poppy managed to say, standing on numb feet as she approached Dougal, who held out his elbow and led her outside the cottage. Beneath her fingers, the heat of his arm singed, and she grabbed hold tighter, not afraid to get burned.

They'd not made it ten feet beyond the door before he said, "There's been some news."

Her heart dropped, afraid now was when he'd let her down gently.

"About Lucia?" she asked with hope.

"Aye."

Poppy let out the breath she'd been holding. "I heard she's eloped."

He stopped walking, facing her with a grin that made his eyes sparkle. "Aye, she has."

"And that means you're free from your…what shall we call it? Your folly?"

He chuckled, and for a minute, she thought he was going to kiss her, but perhaps sensing that her mother and sister were most likely spying, he stopped. "I'd say I dodged a bullet, perhaps from her father's pistol at dawn." Dougal got down on his knees, and Poppy gasped.

"Oh, do get up," she pleaded. "They can all see you."

"Good. I want them to know that I am forever your servant. That I love ye from the bottom of my heart, and I would be honored if ye would agree to be my wife—again, formally. No' when we've…well, no' when we've just been in the garden. I want ye to be my life partner."

Poppy's heart seized somewhere behind her ribs, and then, as quickly as it stopped beating, it started up at an erratic pace. "On one condition," she whispered, her voice failing her, so thick was her throat with emotion.

"Anything."

"You promise to teach our sons never to make oaths to women, declarations of any kind, while under the influence of too many spirits."

"I promise, love, and I will also request they speak with their very intelligent mother before doing any such thing to make sure they are making the right decision."

Poppy felt as if she were floating on air with happiness. "I want any children we have to find love."

"I would never wish for anything less. So, do ye accept my proposal?"

"I have another condition."

"All ye need do is ask." The earnestness in his gaze, his tone, was enough to make her want to drop to her knees with him, but her mother would kill her if she dirtied her dress.

"I would like for you to give my dowry to my mother. She has not been left with much, and she has done so much for my sister and me."

Dougal nodded. "Done. And I will see to your mother's comfort and every need. She will want for nothing."

Tears stung Poppy's eyes, and she smiled. How the world had turned! And she was going to be the happiest of brides. "Then it is with much joy and hope that I accept."

Dougal stood then, wrapped her in his arms, and in front of her sister and mother, who were most definitely staring out the window—for she could hear their gasps—he kissed her.

"I love you, Dougal Mackay," she whispered against his mouth. "You stole my heart in London, and I feel as if you've now given it back tenfold."

"I would give ye anything ye asked for."

The front door of the cottage burst open, and Mama popped out with Anise on her heels.

"Do we have cause to celebrate?" Mama asked, her voice several octaves higher than usual.

"We do." Poppy gazed up at Dougal. "We are to be married."

Anise let out a squeal that scared off a few birds perched in the trees.

"Oh, my darling girl." Mama started to cry, holding out her arms, and Poppy rushed into them. "You did it, I am so happy for you."

There was more to her mother's emotion, her words, than simply being proud Poppy had finally made a match. It was a relief from the financial tightness she'd felt. The worry that they'd be able to make it on the small allowances they had.

A thousand pounds was ten times the annual income her mother was allowed from their father's estate, and she could use it however she wanted.

"Dougal." Her mother let go of Poppy and held her hand out to her future son-in-law, who took it, bending over to kiss the air above her knuckles. "Congratulations."

"I am a lucky man to have your daughter as a wife."

"She is a wonderful woman."

"I couldna agree more." He glanced at Poppy, his eyes sparkling with love and pride. "She has made me a verra happy man."

"I'm so glad for the two of you." Anise hugged Poppy to her and then hugged Dougal too.

He was startled at first and then leaned into the hug.

"There is something I would like to offer," Dougal said.

"But first, I think you were right, Anise, we need champagne." Mama hurried into the house to speak with their housekeeper, and the three of them followed her inside to the drawing room, where Jack was opening a bottle. "You were saying?"

"I know ye're verra partial to this cottage left to ye by your husband, but I wanted to offer ye the use of any of my houses at your leisure. There's no reason for ye to be in one place if ye dinna prefer it."

"Oh, Dougal, you are too kind, and that is too much to ask." Mama glanced around the room, a look of nostalgia crossing her features, and Poppy wondered if she were remembering a time she'd come here with her husband. "I find this cottage rather cozy."

"Mama," Poppy said, "Dougal is also going to give you my dowry to keep and spend as you like."

At this, her mother's face grew pale. "Oh, Poppy, you do not need to do that. It is yours, given to you by your father. I cannot accept it."

Poppy glanced up at Dougal, who nodded encouragingly. "I know. And I am grateful to him for being so generous. But I am more than secure with Dougal. And I want you to have it. Papa would understand and agree with me, I'm sure."

"Oh, Poppy. I…" Her mother was suddenly overcome with emotion and excused herself.

"Oh, no." Poppy started to follow her mother, afraid she'd upset her, but Anise stood in her way.

"Let her go," her sister said softly with a smile. "She's not upset, just overcome. You've made her very happy. She has been quite stressed about how to get by, and you've just given her a huge gift. Both of you." Anise looked at Dougal and nodded.

Poppy hugged her sister. "Thank you."

"It is I who have you to thank." Anise wiggled her brows as if she had a secret.

"We will give ye a proper season too," Dougal said. "Ye deserve it."

"I'm not sure I need it." Anise bit her lower lip, then peeled off her glove to reveal a small sapphire ring.

"What is that?" Poppy reeled in shock.

"Colonel Austen gave it to me. He's asked me to marry him. I planned to tell you and Mama after she came back from tea, but then Dougal came and proposed."

"Both of us, married!" Poppy clapped her hands together.

"I'm so happy for us, for you," Anise said.

"And I am so happy for you and us."

Jack cleared his throat, and the sisters turned to see him still standing there with the champagne bottle.

"Oh yes, please, do pour," Poppy said. "So sorry to have forgotten."

Jack smiled. "No' a problem at all, miss. My congratulations to the lot of ye."

"Thank ye," Dougal said, taking two glasses of sparkling champagne and passing it to Poppy and Anise.

Mama took that moment to return, and he handed her a glass as well.

They were about to raise their glasses in a toast when a knock sounded at the front door.

"That must be the colonel," Anise said, passing Poppy her glass and rushing from the room.

She returned a moment later with Colonel Austen, who looked sheepishly at them all holding their champagne glasses.

"I see we have much to celebrate," he said.

"Indeed, we do"," Mama said, looking slightly puzzled, then finally noticing Anise's ring when her daughter wriggled her fingers in her direction. "What is that?"

"My lady," Colonel Austen said. "I have asked Anise to marry me."

Mama looked ready to faint, flicking open her fan once more out of habit, but Dougal took hold of her arm to keep her steady. "Two daughters married?"

Poppy was afraid she was going to rush out of the room in tears again, but she managed to stay put this time.

"Mama, the colonel is also giving you my dowry. We believe you deserve it and that Edward has done you wrong."

"Oh, let us not talk about Edward and Mary at this most celebratory moment."

But fate had other designs. At that moment, there was another knock at the door, and then the piercing voice of Mary in the small foyer outside the drawing room as she let herself in the house.

"What in the world?" Poppy, Anise and their mother said at the same time as Dougal and the colonel muttered, "Bloody hell."

The drawing room door burst open. Mary, red-faced, her hair a little askew from what had to be a fast-paced journey from Edinburgh, stood there before them, glowering fire and brimstone.

"What's the meaning of this?" she asked, staring each of them down as if they were schoolchildren who'd hidden the teacher's books.

For a moment, Poppy stood shocked, imagining that Mary had somehow gained magical powers. That in her finely appointed drawing room in Edinburgh, she'd heard Dougal declare himself for her and that she'd snapped her fingers and appeared.

"I beg your pardon, Mary, but that is no way to enter your mother-in-law's home." Mama's voice was stern, and for the first time that Poppy had ever seen, her mother looked down her nose at her daughter-in-law with an expression that would have put Poppy in the corner.

"Why, I never—" Mary started.

But this time, it was Poppy who stepped in. "How lovely to see you. What brings you to the Highlands?" She tried to keep her voice pleasant, but she feared the brittle smile on her face wasn't helping.

Mary ignored her. "Dougal. Lucia has eloped with Campbell, and when I arrived at Castle Varrich, they told me I could find you here. And now I see the lot of you drinking champagne in the middle of the day." This last part, she said as if she'd found them all drunk on whisky at breakfast.

"We have much to celebrate," Dougal said. "I have asked Poppy to marry me. And Anise and Colonel Austen have also gotten engaged."

Mary's mouth fell open as she stared from one of them to the next, clearly shocked.

"What about Lucia?"

"I was never meant to marry her. And as ye mentioned, she's properly wed to another. Now, let us no' bring up such unpleasantness. Do ye no' want to wish my fiancée your felicitations?" Dougal said brightly.

Mary visibly gritted her teeth, clearly having a lot of things to say, but either unwilling or unable to voice them. At last, she sniffed and held her nose in the air. "Well, I do hope you're all happy with yourselves."

It wasn't so much a congratulation as an accusation, as if they'd done something to hurt her, which they hadn't.

"Mary, our happiness doesna take away from yours." Dougal's voice was calm as he said it, and Mary remained stiff even as he pulled her into his arms for a one-sided hug, her arms hanging like two steel bars at her sides.

Was that the root of it, then? That Mary thought their happiness would somehow dip into her own? It was silly and irrational, but it also made sense. Mary didn't see the world in the same way as anyone else. She didn't see people outside of herself, autonomous. Everything that happened in the world was happening to her, or somehow, in her mind, she believed it affected her.

"I'm so very happy to have you as a sister-in-law times two," Poppy said, taking Dougal's place in hugging the cold stiffness that was Mary's body. My goodness, was she this way with Edward? No wonder she wasn't happy.

"That is," Mary swallowed and grimaced at the same time as if she were swallowing bile but would rather toss up her accounts. "That is a fact."

Poppy held in her laugh. How hard it was for Mary to compliment anyone.

"I'd best be returning to Edinburgh," Mary said.

"Ye've just arrived. Why no' share some champagne and then go back to the castle with me?" Dougal said. "We'll send a messenger to retrieve Edward, and the two of ye can be here for the wedding."

Mary shook her head so vehemently that more hair came out of her usually tight chignon. "I don't think that's a good idea. Edward is so busy."

"Then ye stay for the wedding." Dougal's expression suggested she not argue. "I'd like to have someone from my family there, and Mary, ye're the only sister I've got."

Mary's smile was sickly. "I supposed Edward is probably not that busy. But no champagne for me. I'll return to Varrich and have a messenger sent."

"Are you certain, dear? It's quite delicious," Mama said, holding out a glass.

Mary gave their mother a look that said she'd rather have her skin peeled off. "Ladies shouldn't."

One last little dig before she went.

"Sometimes, ladies should," Anise said with a shrug.

Before Mary could start another argument, Poppy took her arm. "I'll walk you out. What flowers do you think would be the best for the wedding?"

Mary at first looked stunned, then delighted to be asked her opinion. After all, she had an opinion on everything and was always right, at least in her mind. If that was what it took to get her excited and not combative, then Poppy was willing to defer to her for all floral decisions.

"I think myrtle, lily of the valley, a thistle and some white roses."

"That sounds lovely."

"It does. And Castle Varrich has its own botanical greenhouse."

"I do remember seeing something like that when I was there." Poppy bit the inside of her cheek as she recalled exactly where she'd seen them.

"I'll see if we've got the right flowers," Mary said, taking ownership of the greenhouse.

Poppy wasn't going to take the bait if that was what it was. Mary had grown up going to Castle Varrich, and really had more ownership to it as far as memories were concerned, though the secret garden where Dougal had given such pleasure…well, that she would fight for.

She glanced over her shoulder at Dougal, who still stood in the drawing room, his gaze on her, and the way he looked at her made her body flush. Saints, but she loved that man so much, and to think that after trying to forget him for nearly a year, all of her dreams were coming true.