Chapter Five Return of the Prodigal Daughter #3
Cassandra cleared her throat, pulling the attention to herself.
She leaned forward, her rouged lips forming a sly smile Poppy recognized from girlhood.
“Did you study the works of the Founder when you were in Welkland, Miss Sutherland?” she asked, leaning on the common prefix.
“I don’t recall your being so . . . educated. ”
Poppy clenched her teeth at the thinly veiled insult but forced herself to smile at Lady Cassandra. “I did. We even had a chance to see the capital and tour the places where he once lived. It was a transformative experience.”
“I daresay the whole seven years was transformative,” Lord Whitecliff said.
“Your Grace, it is no secret that I had my reservations about your decision to adopt a Virian. In fact, I recall a conversation we had where I insisted that it was impossible to change the nature one had been born with, and you would only ever find disappointment by pursuing such a path. It seems, however, that I underestimated the power of a good Welkish education. You have become a rarity, Miss Sutherland.”
“Poppy always had it in her.” Her father beamed.
“In a way, she is the perfect example of what we can achieve on the island. Every Virian has the capacity to become an educated, well-mannered, productive member of society, if only they’d let go of their uncivilized ways.
Would you believe that they used to have a barbaric system of segregation?
Everything was determined by the circumstances of their birth—the jobs one could hold, the public space one could occupy, even the people one could marry.
When we assumed control, we did away with this, naturally, and modernized the law.
“But that core belief, that one can’t rise above the caste assigned at one’s birth, is what makes the Virian people so averse to self-improvement.
It’s deeply ingrained in their psyche, this idea that no one can change.
But we know better, and it’s up to us to use the wisdom the Founder left us to make the island a better place, as Poppy just demonstrated. ”
“Thank you, Father,” Poppy said, though his praise only further stirred her guilt over her vile suggestion.
The only thing she could agree with him on was the caste system.
Every citizen should have a chance at upward mobility, regardless of the station of their birth—after all, hadn’t Poppy herself had that benefit?
If she’d been condemned to live out her life confined to the circumstances of her birth, she’d have been a street rat and a thief at best. But the duke had taken a chance by adopting her, and she hoped that he knew how much that meant.
In a rare, genuine moment, she blurted out, “I’ve worked hard to make you proud. ”
He beamed at her. “You have. You are the best heir I could have hoped for.” Poppy’s heart swelled, tripping slightly over the word heir.
“Your use of the Founder’s teachings—most men would try and come up with their own solution, but we should all strive to put the wisdom of the Founder first. Though you may be a woman, you’re a natural-born problem solver.
” His gaze swept across the room. “See how she speaks? She commands the attention of others like a true leader. If she were a man, she’d have done well as viceroy.
” He turned his expression back to Poppy, pride glinting in his eyes.
“Even as the next viceroy’s wife, she holds the potential to make great change.
Any man who weds her would be a fool to exclude her from his office. ”
By the time her father’s speech was done, Poppy didn’t know quite where to look. She had to fight the urge to duck her head. She’d never heard him extol her virtues for so long, or so publicly. Old age must have made him more generous. Either that or he’d had a touch too much wine.
As the servants cleared the dessert, her father rose. “Gentlemen, if you’d follow me to my study, we can continue our conversation there. Perhaps with a glass of port?”
Per custom, the women and men began to separate.
As Poppy rose to follow the other ladies, Richard stopped her with a hand on her arm.
Her heart jumped in her chest at the contact, but she schooled her features into a neutral expression the way the Hawk had taught her.
A lady knew when to hide how she really felt, especially in the presence of a gentleman.
“Forgive me for being so direct.” Richard clasped his hands behind his back. “I must say how much I admired your response. Your father is justified in his praise.”
Poppy concealed her satisfied smirk with a demure glance down at her feet. “I’m flattered you think so, Captain.”
“Do you envision yourself as an advisor to your future husband, when he is viceroy?” he inquired. “Most women don’t pay much mind to politics.”
Poppy considered this, unsure what response would please him. She settled for a coy reply. “I am not most women, Captain Montrose.”
He winked. “I can see that.” He drew himself to his full height, pushing his chest out. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you again, Miss Sutherland. I won’t keep you from the ladies any longer. Have a lovely evening.”
“You as well,” she said, smiling sweetly.
As soon as he left the room, she let her face drop into a scowl.
That certainly wasn’t the desired outcome.
Dinnertime niceties were an obligation, not the sign of an interested gentleman.
Poppy would have to orchestrate another encounter with Richard—and when they met again, she’d ensure he walked away wanting more.