Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right

CHAPTER 35

That same evening, in a small sitting room off his bedchamber, Lord Derby patted Poppy’s hand. She could feel a new beginning flower between them already, like the pretty daisies painted on Mama’s box of treasures. Together, they’d spent the last thirty minutes sorting through most of it.

Poppy had laughed, and she’d cried, examining the items her mother had valued.

She was seeing many of her mother’s things for the first time in years … her favorite brush. Her crystal atomizer with the cobalt-blue tassel. Her squashy red felt pin cushion Poppy had made as a young girl and which her mother brought out at every opportunity, especially when her friends were over.

And a miniature of Mama holding Poppy as a baby. She and her father both cried the longest over that one. But they were having a wonderful time, despite all the emotion.

“Despite your rough beginning, are you pleased with your choice of fiancé?” Papa asked her now. His voice had a whole new quality—not new, actually, but old. It sounded the way it had before Mama had died.

Poppy girded herself to pretend she wasn’t planning on leaving the Duke of Drummond behind. She couldn’t tell Papa of her plans, even with this new closeness. Not yet. It would ruin things between them.

“Of course,” she answered. “Although I worry about what will happen to you when I’m married and gone.”

And she was. If she ever met a man she wanted to marry, what would happen to Papa?

Lord Derby chuckled. “I’m flattered, but a lady’s first allegiance should be to her husband. Not to her father.”

“Oh, dear.” She felt a bit choked up again. “I don’t like to hear that.”

“But it’s the truth.” Papa’s tone was gentle. “When a woman finds the right man, she must cleave to him, putting the marriage first and all else second.”

“But—”

He hugged her close, and Poppy was happy, but she couldn’t help noticing what Papa had said.

Marry the right man.

He’d qualified his statement.

Had she misjudged him? She’d lied to all her suitors the past three years, but perhaps if she’d only explained to Papa what sort of man was the right man for her, she never would have had to go to such lengths.

She took his hand. “Papa, did you really believe Lord Eversly was the right man for me?”

He made a wry face. “I’d no idea. But it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? Perhaps I should have asked you.”

He searched her eyes, concerned.

“I should have told you,” she said simply.

“Will Drummond suit, do you think?”

She gave a small nod.

“Good.” Papa patted her hand. “I like him. I think you’ll suit very well.”

She felt a surge of emotion close her throat. She thought … nay, she knew she and Nicholas would suit very well, too. Pity that he didn’t seem to be aware of that. She tried to fend off the sense that a black cloud was forming around her, one that would bring her pain.

Papa scratched his ear, which he was wont to do when he was embarrassed. “I have a small box, too,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather go through it with you while I’m alive. I—I wish your mother had had that chance.”

“I’d love that.” Poppy grinned at him, and her heart felt lighter at his enthusiasm.

He had a pack of old playing cards that had belonged to her grandfather, and a fine cheroot he’d received the day Poppy had been born. “I received two,” he said, “and smoked one. I wanted to save it, you see. It’s not often a man is blessed with two beautiful women in his life. The first time I saw you, you looked at me with your mother’s eyes and gave a lusty cry with her same rosebud mouth.”

“Oh, Papa.” Poppy wiped away a tear again.

With slightly shaky hands, he unwrapped the final small tissue bundle.

Poppy inhaled a sharp breath. There they were, the cuff links from the portrait. They gleamed black and gold in the candlelight.

“These are my special cuff links,” he said. “I wore these the day I proposed to your mother and I wore them to our wedding. I wore them to your baptism. And I wore them to a wonderful ball we attended in St. Petersburg at the Winter Palace.” He hesitated. “Your mother had never looked so beautiful. And we had never been so much in love. We had less than a few months together after that.”

Poppy swallowed. “They’re wonderful, Papa.”

“Her death was so sudden,” he said quietly. “I believe I never got over the shock of it. I’m sorry, my dear. I should have reached out to you.”

“I did feel lonely,” she admitted. “But I’m sure for you it was even worse.”

Now that she knew what it felt like to love Nicholas, she could understand the depth of her father’s grief a little more.

He kissed her cheek. “When you gave that dinner party, you were so like your mother.”

“Was I?” That made her happy. “But—” She paused. “You didn’t like the meal. You were very quiet.”

He looked down at his hands and then up at her. “It wasn’t the meal. I was sulking. Afraid to move forward. Since your mother’s death, I haven’t been able to touch those Russian memories without flinching. And look at you, you’ve been working on that blasted needlepoint of the Winter Palace for years.” He chuckled.

She had to laugh at that, too. “I have, haven’t I?”

“You were also able to produce Russian dishes for the party,” Papa said, “and still have a smile on your face. That night I learned something. I learned my own daughter was braver than I am.”

“Oh, Papa!” She hugged him. “Don’t say that. You asked me to make English dishes and I ignored you. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. You woke me up that night. Made me see I need to … to move on. Part of that is remembering the past, but not the sad times so much as focusing on the good.”

“And we had many good times,” Poppy reminded him.

“Indeed, we did.” Lord Derby smiled. “Let’s not waste any more time on blame or regret. Just remember this. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

She clasped his hand. But their happy moment was interrupted when an urgent knock came at their front door.

“Who could that be this late?” Lord Derby stood, listening.

“I’ve no idea.” Poppy stood as well, feeling vaguely fearful. It was awfully late for a knock at the front door.

They walked down the corridor together to the top of the stairs. Poppy was surprised to see the prince and princess below. Kettle was busy taking Prince Sergei’s hat and cape. Natasha stood by his side, dogless, and when she looked up and saw Poppy, her expression was, oddly enough—

Triumphant.