Page 25 of A Dash of Scot
The one she’d rather hoped might forget he’d wanted to call. Poppy let out a disappointed sigh.
“And this one.”
The butler handed her another card, this one from Colonel Austen. While his card was welcome, it was Dougal’s she had been hoping to see.
“Are there any others?” Though she tried not to seem sad about it, she was certain she sounded pitiful.
“I’m afraid no’, miss.” The butler shook his head, looking as disheartened as she felt.
She nodded, swallowing her disappointment, shoving away all her questions and frustration with Dougal, not wanting to think about whether she’d ever get the chance to voice them.
“Should I send a reply to your inquiries?”
Poppy nodded. “For this morning, please, if they can make it, so we might say goodbye before we are thrust into an uncertain future. I do believe Lady Leven will have our carriage around as soon as she wakes for us to depart. We’ve got a long journey.”
Days, really. Maybe even a week on the road, even with their horse and carriage going full speed, which wouldn’t be possible in the Highlands.
The butler, stoic at all times, flinched now. “I would go with ye if they’d allow it,” he said softly. “Pardon my being so forward.”
“I wish you could.”
“I’ll have Cook pack the lot of ye something extra fine for your journey.”
“Thank you, Grant. I appreciate that, as I’m sure my mother and Anise will as well.”
Poppy returned upstairs to where the servants were still packing their things. Anise was sobbing at her dressing table while Mama brushed her hair.
“We have two gentleman callers coming this morning before we depart,” Poppy said. “So, dry your eyes. No need for them to see you puffy.”
“Who is it?” Anise asked, the very picture of sadness as she stared up watery eyed at Poppy through the looking glass.
“Colonel Austen and Sir John.”
Anise perked up at the latter name. She swiped at the tears with a handkerchief and managed a smile. “Oh, how wonderful. Perhaps we can ask them to visit us in the Highlands?”
“I don’t think it would hurt to suggest they call if they are in the area, but we must do so carefully,” their mother said, showing more energy than she had in months.
“I will follow your lead, Mama,” Anise said.
Poppy sat down on the chaise longue, watching her mother and sister prepare for their visitors, feeling sorry for herself, for the one person she wanted to see wasn’t coming and had apparently lied to her. Perhaps about more than one thing. He’d certainly toyed with her affections.
“What is it, Pop?” Anise asked, coming to sit beside her and pulling her hands onto her lap.
Poppy didn’t know whether she should say it aloud. Doing so made it seem more real, which was the last thing she wanted. Giving credence to Mary’s venom felt like a betrayal to her own self. But then again, if they were all going to be sad about one thing or another, they should know that there was no hope for her and the man she’d hoped to marry one day. “Dougal is engaged.”
“Engaged?” Her mother turned around, her expression as shocked as Poppy felt. “To whom?”
“Lucia Steventon.”
“Since when?” Anise gaped.
“I don’t know.” This part was true. Yes, Mary had said for several years, but who knew whether that was an exaggeration or not? The truth was she had no facts other than what her sister-in-law had spewed.
“I thought…” Anise trailed off, not voicing the hopes that Poppy had cherished until Mary incinerated them last night.
That there was a future somewhere over the crest of the next hill for her and Dougal. That they just needed more time together for him to get down on one knee and offer her a lifetime. But those were silly notions of a naïve girl. A stupid, idiot debutante who’d let a flirtation get too carried away for her own good and ended up kissing a man she’d thought loved her.
There’d been no declarations. Nothing but champagne and heat and desire all wrapped up into one swirling, delicious disaster. And now she had the broken heart to prove what a fool she’d been.
