Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Poppy woke up with the sour taste of duty still lingering in her mouth and the memories of the duke’s warm skin under her fingertips. Her mind was scattered, but it all did not matter because she had waited patiently for six days to see Aurora and Princess.
Today is the day.
She hopped out of bed and immediately heard a knock at her door.
“Enter,” she called out, and Annabelle entered and curtsied. “Good morning, Your Grace. May I prepare a bath and dress for you?”
“Annabelle!” she squealed and ran toward her friend.
The two embraced as Annabelle laughed.
Poppy pulled away first and smiled at her. “I am so glad that you chose to work here. What duties has the duke given to you?”
“I believe that I am a nanny or a nursemaid. It is uncertain. All I was told was to help you help the girls.” Annabelle shrugged, and Poppy believed that His Grace would say something as confusing as that.
“Do you know where Aurora and Princess’s chambers are?”
The lady’s maid behind Annabelle stopped suddenly when Princess’s name was uttered. Poppy completely forgot that no one knew the baby’s pet name.
“They are not far from your chamber. I can show you on your way to breakfast.” Annabelle spoke as the lady’s maid behind her took out a pale-yellow dress and hung it before she disappeared into the adjoining room to prepare the bath.
“That would be great, thank you, Annabelle.” They beamed at each other. “When did you arrive here?”
“The day after the duke adopted the girls.” Annabelle began to shift around the room; she was at ease in the house already, and Poppy was grateful that she had a friend nearby to help her.
“That is great, Annie. I am so glad you are.” Poppy sat heavily on her bed and pressed her palms to her eyes.
“Are you all right, Poppy?” her friend dropped beside her and caressed her hair.
Poppy sighed.
“I will be all right; I am just taking it all in.” She motioned around the chamber with a flick of her hand.
She was not sure that she could speak about how much she disliked how His Grace spoke about Aurora’s defect and how little patience he seemed to have for raising children. But most especially she disliked the way she had been feeling around him.
Aurora and Princess, she reminded herself, are precisely why I am here.
Still, her mind returned to the day before and that reckless touch. Her fingertips on his forehead felt too instinctive and too intimate.
What was I thinking?
She knew better. She had been raised to know better. A lady did not reach for a gentleman as if his nearness gave her rights. But then again, he was her husband…
“Poppy?” Annabelle was staring at her curiously.
“I apologize; this is all so new to me, and my mind is spiraling trying to accept these changes.”
Annabelle nodded. “I understand.” Annabelle placed a comforting hand on her shoulder just as the lady’s maid appeared again.
Poppy cleared her throat and addressed her. “I will take an afternoon bath instead. I find myself eager to see my girls.”
“All right, Your Grace.” The lady’s maid seemed relieved as she made her way to prepare Poppy’s dress.
She hoped that time with the girls would distract her from thinking about the duke.
It was not that she merely touched him; it was the contradiction of him.
She had thought foolishly he was made of ice, and then she had touched him and found heat that burnt her fingertips and stayed with her.
The sensation kept her up the whole night.
Tossing, turning, and trying to shake the feeling of him off.
It was most inconvenient.
Poppy rose before the thought could become anything softer.
She dressed quickly; the lady’s maid fastened what needed fastening as Annabelle waited for her.
Her dark blonde hair was made presentable, if not artful, and she glanced once at her reflection and saw a duchess who, to her own annoyance, seemed as if she had not slept enough.
“It is all the icy duke’s fault,” she muttered.
“Pardon, Your Grace?” the lady’s maid cocked her head.
“Oh, I said this dress is absolutely flawless. Thank you. You may just direct me to the breakfast room. I shall go with Miss Annabelle.”
The lady’s maid smiled politely. “It is down the staircase to your right, Your Grace. I believe that Mrs. Patterson will give both of you a tour today.”
“Yes, thank you.” Poppy tried to hide her nerves behind a tight smile.
Poppy had only met Mrs. Patterson the night before, and it was for a brief moment, but the woman seemed kind in a stern and motherly way. She wondered if she might ask the housekeeper questions about His Grace or if she would take offense.
Only time will tell.
Poppy inhaled deeply and gave one last look in the mirror before they went to find the girls.
She asked first in the nursery corridor and found Mrs. Patterson before she found either child. The housekeeper came toward her with brisk purpose, her expression gentle and attentive.
“Good morning, my lady.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Patterson. Have you seen the girls?”
“The baby is still asleep,” Mrs. Patterson said.
“Her name is Princess,” Poppy corrected her automatically.
Mrs. Patterson’s mouth curved. “Princess is still asleep.”
Poppy felt a small easing in her chest. “And Aurora?”
“Awake before the nanny, as she always is.” Mrs. Patterson glanced down the corridor. “Though I have not seen her in the last quarter hour.”
Poppy’s ease vanished.
“She has been wandering?” she asked.
“Yes, she has been exploring for the last six days,” Mrs. Patterson replied with the tact of a woman long practiced in making trouble sound less troublesome. “She is a spirited child.”
“She is only four, and this house is huge. What if she gets lost? Or stuck somewhere?” Poppy did not mean to raise her voice, but as her pulse rose, so did her tone.
“I will send a search team right away, Your Grace.” Mrs. Patterson looked troubled as she curtsied.
“I will help,” Annabelle said, and they parted ways.
Poppy felt guilty for startling a staff member in the household, but she could not help herself. Aurora and Princess were like her own children, and hearing that they were left alone to do as they pleased was troubling.
Poppy turned and continued down the hall, though she had no idea where she was going.
“Aurora!” Poppy’s voice echoed in the uneasy silence, and she grew more concerned when she heard no response.
She searched in all the sensible places first. The nursery, the sitting room nearest it, and a chamber whose coverlet had been disturbed, though whether by child or maid she could not tell.
Then she began opening doors with less ceremony.
The house seemed determined to prove that it contained enough spaces for a child to vanish in without leaving the building.
“Aurora?” she called again, softly at first.
No answer.
She moved through another hallway, then another. Her irritation with the duke shifted into anger.
“He wanted order?” she laughed without humor but stopped when she heard a faint knocking sound from behind her.
Poppy entered a room that seemed to be a study or a library. Next to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf was a large closet where another soft knock resounded.
“Aurora?” Poppy called again, keeping fear from her voice. “It is only I.”
Silence. Then, a whisper came.
“O…o…over here.”
Poppy walked toward the closet and turned the handle, opening it only a crack. Inside, in the dimness, Aurora crouched among hanging coats, and a faint smell of dust and wool hung in the air.
“There you are,” Poppy breathed.
Aurora lifted a finger to her lips. “You must come in.”
“Must I?” she pouted.
“Yes.” Aurora nodded her head with urgency.
Poppy looked at the narrow space and surrendered with no dignity at all.
She opened the door only enough to slip inside, gathering her skirts as best she could.
The closet was larger than some, but still not designed to accommodate a grown woman in morning dress.
She had to angle herself between the wall and the hanging garments, then draw her knees in slightly when Aurora tugged the door closed and darkness folded over them.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Until Aurora flung herself at Poppy.
“Oh!” The force of that small body nearly knocked her back against the closet.
She wrapped her arms around the girl at once, holding her tight and breathing in the familiar scent of her. It had only been six days, but for Aurora, six days could become abandonment, or exile, or an age in which love might be questioned.
“I missed you, Poppy,” Aurora whispered into her shoulder.
“I missed you too, my darling.” She planted a small kiss on her curls.
“It was a century!” Aurora let go and widened her arms to show Poppy how long it had been.
“That is a very long time, indeed,” Poppy agreed.
Aurora’s arms wrapped and tightened around her waist again.
In three months, they had never gone so long without seeing one another. Poppy had not realized how much she depended on the daily visits until Aurora and Princess had been taken from her.
After a while, Poppy shifted carefully so she could look at Aurora, though in the closet’s dimness she was more outline than detail.
“Why are you hiding in here?”
Aurora drew back just enough to sit against the opposite end of the closet. “I am not hiding. I am being a secret.”
“Ah. That is a very important thing to be.”
“Yes.” She nodded her small head.
Poppy sighed, thought for a second, then asked, “Is your uncle the reason you are being a secret?” Aurora said nothing, and Poppy’s stomach tightened. “Has he been unkind to you, Aurora?”
“Yes,” Aurora said at once.
The answer was so swift that Poppy’s temper stirred before judgment could restrain it. “What did he do?”
Aurora’s indignation gathered itself. “He frowns all the time!”
Poppy silently agreed to that and waited for more.
“And he makes me eat vegetables.” Aurora stuck her tongue out in disgust as if remembering the taste of the vegetables.
“Hmm, that is a grave offense.” Poppy tutted.
“And he never smiles.”