“I understand your point, Millie,” Poppy said with a smile.
“But just to think!” Millie went on, apparently not quite ready to follow her own advice. “If he’d bought the place, we’d all be working for him and his wife and daughter!” Millie shuddered at the notion.
“That’s right,” Poppy said. “I remember Mr. Towers saying that Mr. Ainsworth also wanted to buy the place.”
“Much better than Mr. Towers did…even if they did insist on the silly name for the house. No real harm in that, I suppose.”
While Millie styled Poppy’s hair, she sat quietly, musing about what the maid had said. Was it just a coincidence that Ainsworth wanted Pencliff Towers? Or did the network of caves have something to do with his interest?
At dinner that evening, she did her best to sit idly and not attract any undue attention.
“How was your ramble today, Poppy?” Mr. Towers asked.
“Oh, quite lovely,” she said. “The view along the headland was well worth it.”
“It seems so lonely, with just the rock and sky,” Blanche commented. “But then, I suppose you must get used to being alone, Miss St George.”
Poppy’s eyes narrowed. “Because no one cares to hike on St. Mark's Head?” she asked innocently, refusing to acknowledge Blanche’s hint.
“Because…” Blanche began. Then she looked to the door and smiled. “Why, dear Carlos! We wondered where you had been all day!”
“Just gone to town on a small matter,” Carlos said carelessly. “That young coachman, Peran Kellow, drove me back.”
Naturally, he was pressed, clean, and handsome—a far cry from his appearance when they left the caves. Carlos took the empty seat next to Blanche. He gave a quick, secret smile to Poppy, but otherwise behaved as if nothing happened between them. “I have to say, I am so
glad I’m in Cornwall this summer, after all.”
Blanche smiled triumphantly, assuming she was the reason for the statement.
After dinner ended, Poppy quickly abandoned the others in the drawing room, where most guests gathered to while away the rest of the evening. She didn’t have the strength to put up with the Ainsworths’s stares. Blanche had gone up early, complaining of a headache. Then Elowen had left to give her sister her nightly dose of tonic, leaving Poppy bereft of a steady female companion to talk to.
She drifted down the hall, and then, without knowing why, left through the side door to the lawn again. The moon had risen, less than half-full but still bright on the water.
“Poppy?” a low voice asked.
She turned to see Carlos standing close by. “Is it wise to follow me out here, considering the lengths we both went to to pretend we didn’t spend hours together earlier?”
“I wanted to talk to you without being overheard,” he said.
“Are you going to berate me for getting involved again?”
“No,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I truly am sorry.”
“For what? I chose to get involved. Perhaps it wasn’t the most intelligent choice, but I am so sick of sitting to the side of the room, watching everything and waiting for the next chapter of my life to begin.”
“You don’t seem as if you wait for anything.”
“Does it look like that to you?” she asked. “Then you really don’t know how little choice I have. Will another lady want me for a companion the way Rose did? Doubtful. Will I marry some gentleman who will overlook my reduced status and shopgirl habits? Unlikely. What will happen is that I’ll work for my living, and with luck take over the management of my stepfather’s business…unless he finds a man to do it.”
“Is that what you want?”
She shrugged, uncertain of how to answer. She used to know what she wanted…or perhaps she never really thought about it before. In fact, Poppy spent most of her life being helpful to other people. People she loved, to be sure. But years as companion to Rose, and then the shift to helping her mother and stepfather with the business meant that Poppy never got the chance to truly consider what she would want if the chance was offered.
“Poppy,” Carlos said, stepping closer. “This might be the first time I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words.”
She looked up into his eyes. All of a sudden, her heart was beating wildly.
He bent his head and kissed her. When her lips parted, she felt the touch of his tongue on her lower lip, making her whole body terribly alert, as if he’d somehow exposed her skin to the night air…in a wonderful way.
