Fourteen
T hey danced all night at the wedding. The Earl of Winfield and his wife left early. George and Bronte were with a group of their friends, but Alistair hadn’t wanted to join them, though George had motioned for them to come over several times.
The wedding itself had made her misty-eyed. She hadn’t thought she would cry but she had and Ali had handed her a monogrammed handkerchief to dry her eyes.
Gemma glowed as she’d walked down the aisle to Patrick. The man of her dreams. Seeing the two of them so in love, standing next to the man who’d shattered her own romantic dreams and not hating him...that was something else.
But he was different. Which brought her back to the moment.
“Why aren’t we joining your brother?” Poppy asked.
“Those blokes are so old me,” he said.
“Do you think you’ll fall back into old habits around them?” she asked as she danced around him.
“No. But they might expect me to be someone I’m not.”
“How?”
This was awkward. There was no way he was having this discussion with Poppy. Telling her that he’d earned a reputation for getting high and taking a different woman home every night after she’d left. It had been a coping method, and he wasn’t exactly proud of how he’d behaved. Not that she’d be surprised to learn any of that. He just didn’t want to remind her of the man he’d been.
“Different,” he said. “That’s all past. Why do you want to go over there?”
She shrugged.
“Do you want to?”
“It’s just that they all weren’t great to me when we were married, and I’d like to go over there and be all ‘I’ve met Amber Rapp, and she loved my tea...’ Oh, God. Do you hear me? Could I be any shallower?”
Laughing, he tugged her out of the reception into the quiet hallway. “You aren’t shallow. You’re allowed to be happy you’re successful.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to rub their noses in it.” She laughed too, that perfect, tinkling sound he loved to hear. “Liberty is totally rubbing off on me.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” he said.
She arched her eyebrows at him. “What is it then?”
“Moon of horses power. You’ve thrown off the shackles and stepped into your full power. There’s no stopping you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “That’s right,” she said.
“Poppy.”
They turned as her aunt and uncle walked out of the ballroom. “Just wanted to catch you before we left. We’re heading up to St Andrews in the morning.”
“It was good to see you, Aunt Regina,” Poppy said, going over to hug her aunt. Her aunt and uncle fit right in with Ali’s family. Alistair could see why Gemma liked them. They were an outgoing, athletic couple who’d socialized throughout the ballroom all night.
Poppy had mentioned that Merle and his dad didn’t really have a close relationship, and honestly, Alistair understood why. Seeing Coach, as everyone called him, and knowing Merle as he was coming to, Ali could see that the two men had nothing in common. Not unlike him and his father.
Alistair walked over and shook the other man’s hand. “Nice to have met you.”
“Same. Looking forward to trying some of your beer the next time we are in the UK.”
“You’ll be able to try it at the Bootless Soldier Tavern in a few weeks,” Poppy said. “You are sending some to Owen, right?”
“I have.”
“Good. The next time we visit Merle and Liberty, I’ll try some. We’d better leave, Reg. I want to hit the road at four so we beat the traffic tomorrow morning,” Coach said.
“Tell your mum I said hi when you see her.” Regina hugged Poppy, and the two left.
“It’s so odd that your family is nicer than mine.”
“They just are better behaved. And they aren’t my parents,” she pointed out.
“Speaking of which, are you sure I’m invited to dinner tomorrow?”
“Uh-huh,” she said. But it didn’t really sound definitive.
“That’s not a yes.”
“Well, Mum is still not happy with you, and my dad apparently cut his walking trip short to get back for dinner,” she said. “I have a feeling it’s going to be tense. But I’d like for you to come with me. I think they will be open to seeing you this time.”
He hoped so. He didn’t blame her parents for not liking him. He’d been everything he’d been taught to be around them. He’d sucked up to her dad and talked about hiking the Camino Real in Spain, which he’d done with some school chums one summer. He’d asked about her mum’s garden, which was one of the best he’d ever seen. They were nice, honest people. But he’d always been superficial with them, asking questions because he’d been raised to be polite and not because he was actually interested in getting to know them better.
Which, given how perceptive Poppy was...he had to guess her parents had seen through him as well. It was probably why they didn’t like him—well, that and the fact that he hadn’t made their daughter as happy as she deserved to be.
“Will your siblings be there?” he asked. Poppy had an older brother, Barnaby, and a younger sister, Mae.
“Mae’s at uni, so no. I doubt that Barn will drive down from Oxford, so probably not.”
“Good. I don’t think I could handle the full Kitchener family grilling me,” he said. “Maybe you can show me a moon ritual that will give me strength to get through it.”
She laughed and took his hand, leading him out into the garden of the hotel. The sky was clear, and the full moon was big and bright above them.
“Tip your head back and look up at the moon,” Poppy said.
He watched her instead of looking up at the moon.
“Songs of the wood, words of the fae, guide me and show me the way,” she said. Then she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. “Ali.”
“I’ve found my magic in you. I’m letting you show me the way.”
“I can show you, but you have to walk it yourself,” she said softly.
Words that he’d heard from this therapist more than once. Walking the walk was something that should be second nature to him, but he still struggled with it. “How?”
“Look up at the moon with intention. What do you want?”
He started to talk, and she put her fingers over his lips.
“Don’t tell me, tell the moon.”
Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes, breathing in the heady scent of summer and the woman standing next to him. What did he want?
The answer to that had somehow always eluded him until this moment, with this woman. He wanted to figure out a way to find his way back to her. Back to the girl who’d loved him and made him feel like anything was possible.
That girl was gone, trampled beneath the feet of his ambition. But a part of his soul hoped to find new love with the wiser woman she’d become.
Sunday dinner with her parents was really happening. When she’d invited Alistair to join them, honestly, she hadn’t really considered what it would be like. Her flight back to Maine was in the morning, and she was staying the night at her parents’ house. Ali arranged for her luggage to be sent to the airport and checked in early. So all she had with her was her trusty backpack as they pulled up to the house on his Ducati.
It was a semi-detached home in a nice neighborhood. Poppy had grown up in the house and had gone to the school that Alistair had driven them by once they left the motorway. Driving through the town stirred memories of her girlhood, when all she wanted was to be something more than a regular girl from this medium-size town.
Marrying Alistair had done that. Her wedding had been covered in the papers and had even gotten a small mention on ITV news. But that had had nothing to do with Poppy. That had all been Alistair and the spotlight that followed him around.
WiCKed Sisters fulfilled that desire to be more. To find the thing she was good at. Most people wouldn’t recognize her on the street, but that wasn’t why she wanted to be more. She’d wanted it for herself.
After all they’d experienced together—the Tor, their lovemaking under the moon, the meeting with his family—she’d been too much in her feels to know what to say to Ali. Today, after dinner, he’d be gone.
It was bittersweet. To finally again see the man she’d had fun with before they were married. She’d liked it. Too much? The jury was still out on that.
Her mom was at the door as Alistair turned off the bike. Poppy hopped off, then took off her helmet before hugging her mum.
“Dad’s not happy he’s here,” Mum whispered in her ear.
“I hope he’ll give him a chance,” Poppy whispered back.
Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea, but she wanted her parents to see this side of Ali. To understand that the man he’d become during their marriage wasn’t the man he was today. Maybe they’d stop blaming him for what happened. Maybe they’d see it all as Poppy did now: that they had both simply been too young.
“Hello, Alistair,” her mum said, leading them into the kitchen and out into the garden where her dad was manning the grill. She was surprised to see her brother and sister both sitting in chairs, talking to him.
“Poppy’s home!” Mae exclaimed, running over to her and hugging her tight. She completely ignored Alistair.
“Hey, Pop,” Barn said. “Drinks?”
“I’ve got that pink gin we like,” mum said.
“That for me. Alistair?” Poppy turned to him.
“Beer, please,” he said to Barn.
She’d rarely seen Alistair look as uncomfortable as he did now. Taking his hand in hers, she wasn’t sure what to do next. What could she say? He’s not a dick anymore? That wasn’t going to help.
“Aunt Regina called to say she had a great time with you two at the reception,” her mum said.
“We enjoyed seeing them too. I had a good meeting with Lancaster-Spencer, and they are going to make an offer to distribute the Amber Rapp tea blend,” Poppy said.
“Are they going to be fair this time, Alistair?” said her dad, finally breaking his silence.
“I believe so. Your daughter really left them few options other than that. We also asked for them to return the Kitchener name to the Earl Winfield tea blend,” Alistair said.
“Glad to hear that. About time Lancaster-Spencer stepped up. What are you doing these days? Still a junior executive?” her dad asked.
“Nope. I left the company about a year and a half ago and started brewing my own beer. I really like it,” Ali said.
When he started talking beer and brewing, Ali relaxed, and soon the men were all huddled around the grill while Poppy, Mae and her mum talked in the kitchen.
“He seems different,” Mum said as they finished making a salad to go with the chicken on the grill.
“Still hot,” Mae added.
“Yes, to both. He is different. He’s serious about not being a part of Lancaster-Spencer. I like him this way.”
“I do too,” Mum said.
Walking Ali to his bike to say goodbye, she was totally aware that her family were probably watching from inside the house.
“That was...”
“Nice,” he said. “They treated me way better than they should have.”
It hurt her heart a little to hear him say that. Putting her hand on the side of his face, she wanted to find the words to thank him for these last few days.
Her perspective and her emotions around Ali and their marriage had changed. The angry girl/woman she’d been when she’d left wasn’t someone that Poppy identified with anymore.
“You’ve changed. You wouldn’t have been aware of that before.”
“I’m glad that you noticed. It’s not easy but the rewards are worth it. I wouldn’t have had this time with you. Wouldn’t have gotten to see your special magic, moon fairy.”
Her heart melted a little more, making her very glad she was heading back to Maine where she would have some time away from Ali to process this all.
He turned his head, brushing his mouth against the center of her palm. “Goodbye.”
He got on his bike and she watched him drive away before going back inside. After Ali had left and everyone was in bed, her mum sat on the couch with her arm around Poppy. “Don’t feel like you owe him anything. Just because he’s changed doesn’t mean he’d be a better husband for you.”
“Believe me, Mum, I know that. I’m not getting married again,” Poppy reminded her.
Her mum didn’t say anything else, but on the plane ride home the next morning, Poppy couldn’t help but wonder what her mum had seen to give that warning.
Had she fallen under Ali’s false spell again?