Page 25 of A Mother for the Blind Duke’s Orphans

Julia stood, and Thomas noticed the movement. He seized a length of ribbon and dragged it behind him as he marched along the wall toward his mother. Julia allowed him to wander and came to Poppy’s side instead. They stared at each other in the mirror, Poppy in her bridal white and her sister in a soft pink ballgown.

“If you regret it,” Julia whispered, “if any part of you regrets it, tell me, and I will find a way to free you from whatever promise you have made. I do not care what papers have been signed, what arrangements have been made, and what anyone expects. I will find a way.”

Poppy studied her sister. She loved Julia so intensely in that moment that it seemed almost childish. Julia made threats sound like comfort and built a life through courage and cost, yet still had enough room in herself to stand guard over her sister. She had always been the first shelter Poppy ran to.

“Aurora is just like you, Poppy,” Julia’s words came quietly, but they held.

Poppy’s last visit with the girls returned to her with painful clarity.

Aurora is so brave.

She had held herself straight even though she stuttered with the duke; it was as if she had overheard how adults valued composure. When it was time to leave, Aurora kept her emotions under control for her sister’s sake, but Poppy saw the tears gather in her eyes.

“No, Julia, Aurora is exactly like you. That is why I am doing all that I can for her and Princess.”

She had seen how the child watched every door, every expression, and every pause before an answer. She had seen distress in the tightness around Aurora’s mouth and the way she had stayed near Princess without quite touching her, as though afraid that clinging would reveal too much.

“And that is not a bad thing?” her sister jested gently.

Poppy smiled softly and nodded. “No, it is not.”

For Aurora to become the sort of sister Julia had been, to love without fear, that love would be taken as weakness. She needed guidance, steadiness, and someone near enough to protect her from anyone who would take advantage of her pure love. Poppy would do all this and more for her and Princess.

She turned from the mirror. “I have no regrets about this marriage.”

Julia searched her face.

“I mean it,” she said. “There was never really a choice.”

“There is always a choice, Poppy.”

“No, not one I could live with.”

Thomas stomped past them, ribbons trailing behind him like a banner of conquest. He had dust on one knee and triumph in his laugh. Julia’s eyes flicked toward him automatically. It was the quick, assessing glance of a mother.

Her face changed when she looked at her son. Some part of her attention remained with him always, even when she spoke to Poppy. Poppy wondered if that was what love did when it became a responsibility.

Did it divide a person and make them larger? She surely hoped so.

“It is not as though anyone was waiting to marry me,” Poppy added lightly.

Julia’s gaze snapped back. “Do not do that.”

“Do what?” she shrugged.

“Make yourself small so the sacrifice looks smaller too.” Julia frowned at her.

Poppy looked away; it was frightening how much her sister could read her. “I am being practical.”

“No, you are being… Poppy.” She pointed a finger at Thomas, who stopped in his tracks.

“Where is your nanny?” Poppy asked, trying to change the topic.

Julia sighed. “Uncle said the ceremony is private, so we left her behind.”

Poppy busied herself with the edge of her sleeve, though it needed no attention. She felt at fault once again.

“Uncle Bendon’s behavior has been unforgiving recently,” Poppy said drily.