Page 12 of A Dash of Scot
Anise was batting her lashes prettily, and Poppy wanted to groan.
“A grand invitation, but I’m afraid I canna stay. Perhaps I could call on ye tomorrow at…” he asked.
“Of course. We’re staying with my brother, Lord Leven.”
“Until then.” Sir John bowed slightly and then left the creamery, apparently having only entered upon seeing Colonel Austen and Dougal.
Was it Poppy’s imagination, or had she picked up on some sort of rivalry?
Poppy wanted to yank Anise by the arm to somewhere private where she could ask what had gotten into her flirting with Sir John and encouraging him, but that would only draw attention to them both, which she didn’t want to do. And besides, she also could understand her sister’s motivation to act that way. They were, after all, both in need of a husband. Perhaps she should let her sister know she was willing to take on the responsibility of marrying a man she didn’t love so that Anise could fall in love.
The conversation from that point was dampened. The colonel looked deep in thought, and Dougal tried to pick up the cheer, but nothing worked. Sir John, it appeared, had waltzed into the creamery and dumped saltwater on all their sweets.
They left the creamery and climbed back into the carriage.
“I bid ye adieu,” Colonel Austen said, tipping his hat. “A pleasure meeting ye both. I shall see ye at dinner.”
“You are welcome any time. We look forward to your continued company,” Anise said, shocking Poppy.
Was Anise angling for both Colonel Austen and young Sir John? What game was she playing?
“A pleasure indeed, Miss Anise.” He took Anise’s hand and pressed a kiss to the air above her glove and then did the same to Poppy.
For Poppy, their return curricle ride to the house was filled with trepidation. Flashes of Mary’s snarls, Mother’s sad sighs, Edward’s frowns. Besides, despite the ride and the stop for iced cream, it was not nearly time yet for tea. Which meant Poppy would either need to hide in her room or deal with Mary in the drawing room. The latter of which sounded tantamount to torture.
Isolation seemed a better bet. And at least she shared a room with Anise and could ask her just what she was thinking with encouraging both men, and that it wasn’t necessary for her to do so.
Dougal helped the two of them down from the carriage, and as they walked up the path to the door, held open by the butler, he said, “I thank ye both for taking the time to accompany me. It’s always rather awkward when I go and get an iced cream by myself.”
“It was lovely, thank you,” Anise said, and then she hurried inside and up the stairs, leaving Poppy alone to bid Dougal farewell.
Poppy’s smile was tight as she tried to keep her emotions inside. “It was a pleasure, my lord. And I think I’ve found a new indulgence I’ll have to avoid.” You being the first.
“I think if ye find something ye love, why not indulge?” Though he was speaking of iced cream, she couldn’t help but think of their past together. And how much his words could have represented that moment.
She decided to answer directly regarding the sweets. “My dresses would not agree.”
Dougal chuckled. “Nothing an extra walk or ride willna accommodate.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” But she still wasn’t going to do it. Especially knowing he frequented the venue. Running into him unnecessarily would only hurt her more.
He winked. “Perhaps.”
Oh, why did he have to wink at her? The teasing, taunting deliciousness of it was too much. Her smile faltered, and she turned away from him, needing the sanctity of her room and the door that would separate her from him. As she climbed the stairs from somewhere, Mary’s shrill voice could be heard admonishing someone. Poppy doubted it was her son, as the sweet four-year-old could do no wrong. Likely a servant or even Edward, as Mary seemed to be the queen of this castle.
“Goodbye for now,” Dougal called after her.
“We shall see you at tea?” Poppy asked, glancing over her shoulder and remembering too late that Mary had said no.
“I will try to sneak in, but my sister is verra particular about who attends, and I’m no’ usually on the list.” His laughter traveled up the stairs to stroke her skin.
“A shame. I think you may have been the most interesting guest.” She shrugged, emboldened by the distance the stairs put between them to tease him back.
He grinned, and even with the length of distance between them, she saw it for how handsome it was. “I’m certainly no’, but I shall see ye at dinner.”
“Are you staying here?” The question was perhaps inappropriate, but she was curious just how much she would have to avoid him.
“I have a house just down the row.”
