Page 27 of A Mother for the Blind Duke’s Orphans

Poppy smiled despite herself. Julia returned with Thomas balanced against her hip for a moment before setting him down nearer the least dangerous corner of the room. He toddled off at once to find new ruin.

Julia brushed her hands together, then said, almost reluctantly, “In the duke’s defense⁠—”

Poppy lifted her brows. “Your contradictions are alarming.”

Julia ignored that. “I am just trying to see both sides. Anyhow, the duke did not know he had a sister.”

Poppy grew still.

“So, when he spoke of her,” Julia continued, choosing the words with care, “he was most likely referring to a half-sister. And if that is true, and he has taken responsibility now that he knows…” She glanced toward Poppy. “Then his actions may be more honorable than they first appeared.”

Poppy had not allowed herself to dwell too long on Hector’s honor. It was easier to think of the facts instead. Honor belonged to stories people told after the danger had passed. Yet Julia’s words remained with her.

Honorable.

It did not make Hector any warmer, nor did it make the proposal less abrupt or the arrangement less strange. It did not tell Poppy what kind of husband he would be, whether he would remain distant, or whether his icy control was indifference or restraint. But it placed another possibility alongside the ones she had already considered.

Perhaps he, too, had found himself standing before a door he had not chosen, knowing he could not walk away.

Poppy looked at herself once more. She looked like a bride, but she did not feel like one. She felt like a woman making a deal with a man who had the same priority as her. Her fear had not left. It sat quietly inside of her, hands folded, waiting. But beneath it was Aurora’s brave little face and Princess’s helplessness.

“I will ask you again. Are you regretting this, Poppy?” Julia spoke softly.

Poppy touched the lace of her gown, feeling the soft fabric beneath her fingers.

“No,” she said softly, and more to herself than to her sister. “I do not regret it.”

“I can do this,” Poppy whispered to herself.

The wedding was not the sort where the décor mattered. It was a modest arrangement near the front of a small church. Pale blooms gathered without extravagance, and their stems hid in a plain vessel. There were chairs set in careful rows, though most of them remained empty.

In her view, she could see the clergyman with a book held open in both hands as he spoke in a low voice. Poppy squinted and tried to see who came on the duke’s behalf, but there was not much light coming through the church windows. It was as if even the day understood it had not been invited to rejoice.

“It is awfully quiet in there.” Georgia appeared at her side, and Julia gave her a stern look.

Georgia pursed her lips.

“You will be fine, Poppy; we will be right behind you.” Julia fixed a strand of hair that had come loose under Poppy’s veil.

Poppy looked around her sister for Thomas but did not find him, and she felt more disappointed.

“Where is my nephew?” she frowned.

“He is inside with his father.”

Poppy nodded but did not look into her cousin’s or sister’s eyes as she thought about Princess and Aurora waiting for her arrival. Julia sighed and grabbed her hand.

“Are you asking about my son because you are secretly thinking about your girls?” Her sister always read her mind.

Their absence, more than anything, made the church feel unfinished. But Poppy had agreed that it would be better if the girls were not present. Better if they were spared the hush, the watchfulness, the unsettling spectacle of adults arranging a life around them while pretending the arrangement was ordinary. It would be better if their first memory of their guardian’s marriage was not a few relatives seated in a quiet venue and a bride walking toward a man who had offered her security with nothing resembling love or tenderness.

Poppy reminded herself again as she stood at the entrance and tried to peek through the church door.

“It is better this way, Julia.”

Julia squeezed her hand and let go. “It is not too late to run away, sister.”

Georgia gasped as Julia winked at her, and Poppy laughed, but felt her throat tighten with unshed tears.