Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“Thank you, Annabelle.” The lady’s maid placed Princess gently into Poppy’s arms; her little head lolled to the side as she slept peacefully.
Poppy leaned closer to her friend and whispered so only she would hear. “You may leave us.”
“Enjoy, Your Grace,” Annabelle whispered back.
She offered Poppy a knowing smile and squeezed her hand for luck before she disappeared down the corridor. Aurora had already entered the room, overly ecstatic that she would have guests, and she got to show off her newest addition.
Poppy had delayed the reveal of Aurora’s room to Hector long enough.
At first, she told herself that Aurora needed time to grow accustomed to the new arrangement.
Then that Princess must have one more peaceful night before any disruptions.
Then that Hector was occupied, or tired, or in one of those silent moods that made the air around him seem colder than the rest of the house.
None of it was false, but none of it was the full truth either.
The truth was that she did not know what to expect from Hector when he saw the changes she had made to help the girls settle down.
One of those changes was placing Princess in the same room as Aurora, which she was about to reveal to him as well.
“Poppy,” Hector’s voice echoed around her, and she felt the familiar shiver run up her spine whenever he was near.
She did not understand how he made her forget her senses just by calling her name and giving a mere look in her direction.
Poppy watched him approach her with an unreadable expression, and she could not predict whether he would soften or retreat in just a few minutes, but she had noticed that lately, he was not as cold as he used to be, and she hoped that it would remain that way.
Poppy held her breath when he finally reached her.
He towered over her, and his scent made her lightheaded.
“What is it that you wanted to show me?” he asked gruffly.
She gulped. “Firstly, you must promise not to get upset, and you have to understand the reason why I did this,” she spoke nervously.
Hector raised a dark brow and waited for her to continue.
“Princess has not been sleeping well alone. Aurora either. We tried leaving the doors open, and then moving the cradle to Aurora’s chamber, and then—”
“Poppy,” he said with surprising gentleness.
She stopped speaking at once.
Hector turned his head slightly toward her. His eyes settled on her face and stayed there until she felt the familiar heat rise within her.
“You do not need to defend something I have not seen yet.” His calm tone reassured her.
“I was not defending it; I am merely nervous, and I was preparing you.” She spoke too fast.
Hector’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “That sounds ominous. What are you and the children hiding in there?”
Poppy exhaled as she patted Princess’s little back. “Shall we proceed?”
“After you.”
Poppy entered the girl’s chamber, and at the door, Mrs. Patterson shifted and took Princess from her arms. Princess stirred, made a soft protest, and settled deeper against the housekeeper’s chest.
“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson.”
The elderly woman nodded politely before heading toward the cot. Hector was quiet, and Poppy was nervous to look his way. At first glance, the room might look ordinary, especially in the dim light.
When Poppy first saw it, she thought it was too large for a little girl, and the air held a faint, unfamiliar trace of luxury that Aurora and Princess were not used to.
She knew that Aurora was too afraid to even play on the Persian carpeted floors.
Her large bed stood with its coverlet barely disturbed, and its pillows were arranged with an order no child respected for long.
A casual observer might have thought the room fit for the duke’s nieces, except for one little obstruction.
Poppy finally found the courage to look back at him, and she knew from his expression that he had spotted the material contraption.
“Well…” Hector began, but Aurora emerged from within the blankets and pillows.
Aurora’s eyes darted to Poppy, then to Hector, and back. Poppy gave her a small nod of approval. Aurora swallowed, then pointed nervously toward the fortress.
It was made of pillows and blankets, which were draped over chair backs and secured to the corners of the bedposts.
Mrs. Patterson and the staff found as many pillows as possible and formed a lopsided wall with a low opening left at the front, like the mouth of a cave.
Within the dimness there were books, toys, and all the small treasures Aurora believed would save her and her sister from the world.
Hector did not speak, and Poppy watched him too closely. She noticed how the line of his shoulders tensed, and his fingers clenched and released on the handle of his cane. He gave so little away that every restraint began to seem like judgment.
Aurora took one step toward the entrance of her fortress, then stopped. Her eyes were wide with wonder.
Poppy lowered her voice. “Aurora, darling, perhaps you might be a good hostess and show your uncle what you have made.”
Aurora’s courage wavered. “H—he m…m…may not fit.”
That, unexpectedly, earned a low, grumbling laugh from Hector.
“I have been told that before,” he said gently.
Poppy looked at him and adored his efforts. He had been trying so hard, and it was working out for him with the girls and her. She was starting to learn more about her husband and thinking more about him too. The thought felt intimate and made her blush even more.
Aurora considered him solemnly. “Y…y…you are v—very tall.”
He gave her a coy smile. “It is a lifelong inconvenience.”
“B…but …you can come in if you crawl.” Poppy expected him to refuse.
A refusal would only have been reasonable since the Duke of Sterling did not belong on his hands and knees at the entrance of a blanket fortress, his cane awkward at his side and his dignity imperiled by nursery pillows.
Instead, he asked, “May I bring my cane?”
Aurora looked at his cane, then back up at him with the biggest and most expectant smile. “Into the fortress?”
“Yes, but only if you allow it.”
Aurora hesitated, then nodded. “A…all right, f…f…follow me.”
Poppy glanced at Princess in the cot one last time and tucked a pillow safely near her side before she crouched at the entrance to help lift one of the lower blankets. Aurora ducked inside with the solemnity of a cathedral guide, and Hector followed after more slowly.
He angled his shoulders, folded his long body down, and kept one hand on the cane while the other found the edge of a pillow wall.
Poppy saw his jaw tighten when his knee pressed into the floor.
She saw, too, how carefully he avoided disturbing the structure, and that gentleness caught her off guard.
“Are you coming as well?” he asked before he entered.
She snapped out of her thoughts. “Yes.”
Poppy ran forward and kneeled beside him; their arms touched briefly and left a warm imprint.
Hector gave her some space to enter first and then followed after her.
She figured that he needed the guidance as the light was dim inside.
The fortress smelled faintly of wool, warmed fabric, and the papery dust of books.
The filtered light made it feel safe and cozy.
Poppy settled beside Aurora as they waited for Hector.
“T…T…This,” Aurora said when he finally arrived and sat heavily next to Poppy, “is where the b…books are.”
Hector turned his head toward the pile she indicated. “That is an impressive library.”
“It only has s…six books.” She pouted.
“Ah, we would have to fix that.” Hector rubbed his chin as if he were deep in thought.
The movement caused his elbow to graze against Poppy’s forearm. Her pulse picked up, and she prayed he would not notice the effect he had on her.
Aurora gave him a doubtful look, then decided to accept it and move on. “This one has a h…h…horse. This one has a m…moon. This book is for Princess, b…b…but she tried to eat it.”
“She is a harsh critic,” he muttered under his breath.
Poppy pressed her lips together so that she would not laugh.
Aurora glanced at Hector, uncertain whether that was a joke because his expression remained grave. But she smiled regardless of her lack of knowledge.
“And t—these are the t…t…toys,” she continued, a little more confidently and loudly now. “This doll belongs here, but that one does.” She pointed at a rag doll. “That one d…d…does not, but Princess likes it. And those are our t…t…treasures.”
Poppy and Hector looked at the shells, stones and pieces of torn fabric lying in a heap.
“Why is that your treasure?” Hector asked curiously.
Aurora’s face went quiet and grave.
“It is m…my treasure because it would m…m…make me sad if it was gone,” she said simply.
Poppy stopped breathing for the length of a heartbeat while Hector said nothing.
Aurora, unaware of how her words impacted them, leaned forward and began showing him their treasures with increasing confidence.
A toy was pressed into his hand, then taken back, followed by a book.
A small keepsake of hers was described with elaborate seriousness.
“She arrived at the orphanage with those,” she whispered to Hector, who was still looking at the pile of what seemed to be junk.
Poppy remembered the day as if it were yesterday. The two girls were wrapped in flimsy material, and Aurora’s little fist had to be pried open only to find some stones, shells, and a piece of material.
Hector cleared his throat. “How long did it take you to build this fortress, Aurora?”
“It t…t…took me, Poppy, and Mrs. Patterson years to b…build it,” she announced proudly.
“Years?” Hector repeated impressively.
Poppy leaned close enough for only him to hear. “It took two days.”
His mouth twitched. “I figured. I also figured that she had some help.”
“You did?” She feigned her surprise, and Hector let out a small laugh.