The Gift of the Marquess

by Darcy Burke

  Hands clasped firmly in her lap, Mrs. Armstrong shook her head. “And it wasn’t for our lack of trying.” She winked at Poppy. “Sometimes, however, we are meant to do other things. We were meant to open our home to women, including those with children, in need. Through that endeavor, we fostered a few children ourselves, including Judith.”

  “I didn’t realize she was your foster child.”

  “She and her mother came to us when Judith was four. Her mother passed a few years later, and Judith remained. While we aren’t an orphanage, in some instances, when the child had nowhere else to go, Mr. Armstrong and I kept them here. With Judith, I was just so attached to her, as she became attached to us when her mother was ill.”

  “I’m so glad you were there for her. Judith is a lovely young woman.”

  “She is,” Mrs. Armstrong noted with pride. The pride of a mother. In that moment, Poppy glimpsed a future in which she didn’t feel sad or…less. She wanted that future to start right now.

  “I tell you this,” Mrs. Armstrong continued, “because there are so many children who need a home and security. They need a family.”

  “I was just thinking that,” Poppy said softly. “Thank you. Gabriel and I have discussed fostering a child.” Or children. Why would they stop at just one?

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Mrs. Armstrong’s blue gaze turned hesitant. “Dare I ask if that’s why he took Dinah in?”

  “Partly. He also just wanted to help—her and you. We know you are out of empty beds at present.”

  “We are, and the condition of the house is becoming a problem. I fear we need some big repairs.” She looked as though she was going to say more but then snapped her mouth closed.

  Poppy knew what was on her tongue. The same thing was in her mind. “Things have become more difficult since my brother withdrew the support of the dukedom after he inherited.” She clenched her jaw as she thought of how he’d ceased giving the money their father had given to Mrs. Armstrong for Hartwell House. He’d said he needed to review the ledgers to determine if such charity could truly be afforded. As far as she knew, he hadn’t made a final decision. “I will press him on the matter. In the meantime, we will pledge more support.” Gabriel wasn’t as wealthy as Calder, but he was committed to helping those less fortunate.

  Mrs. Armstrong shook her head. “You both already give so much—money and time. Now, back to Dinah. Is she going to let you raise the baby?”

  The blunt question took Poppy slightly off guard, but why shouldn’t Mrs. Armstrong speak plainly? “I don’t think so. I’ve been working to convince her to keep the child.”

  “You have?” Mrs. Armstrong asked with surprise.

  “As someone who seeks and values motherhood, I worried she would regret not keeping the child.”

  “She didn’t strike me as particularly motherly, but then Judith’s missives have painted a picture of a young woman who fell victim to unfortunate circumstance.”

  “Judith has been writing to you about Dinah?”

  “Yes. It sounds as though Dinah has perfected quite a bravado.” Mrs. Armstrong cocked her head to the side. “Do you share that sentiment?”

  “I can certainly see it. She hides her true self quite deep, I think. She’s read A Midsummer Night’s Dream several times.”

  Mrs. Armstrong laughed softly. “Judith mentioned that.”

  “She’s good at sums too,” Poppy said. “I wonder if she might fulfill the role of schoolteacher here at Hartwell House.”

  Mrs. Armstrong stroked her cheek in thought. “Oh, to finally have a school… Do you think she could?”

  Poppy lifted a shoulder. “It’s worth trying.”

  “It certainly is.” But Mrs. Armstrong’s expression dimmed. “I just don’t know where we would house the school or her—and her child. We are fair to bursting at the seams.”

  “Let me discuss it with Gabriel.” And Bianca—she would likely think of something. While Gabriel had noted she didn’t have all the ideas, she did conjure a great many of them.

  “Mrs. Armstrong!” A boy ran into the sitting room, his face pale. “There’s a fire!”

  Mrs. Armstrong leapt to her feet as the color drained from her face. Poppy rose, legs trembling and heart pounding.

  “We need to get everyone out,” Mrs. Armstrong said, sounding dazed.

  “Not here,” the boy, who was perhaps eight or nine, said. “It’s over at Shield’s End. Lord Darlington just left to go help. He told me to come tell you.”

  Shield’s End was a house—and former farm—that belonged to Ash. It had been his family home before he’d become Earl of Buckleigh. “At least no one is living there right now,” Poppy said with relief. Still, it was horrible.

  Mrs. Armstrong laid her hand against her chest and closed her eyes briefly. “You gave me a fright, Michael. Round up the boys, and we’ll go to see how we can help.”

  He nodded, then dashed out of the sitting room.

  “I’ll take them,” Poppy offered. Since Gabriel had gone, she wanted to go too.

  Lowering her arm to her side, Mrs. Armstrong gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  Despite the effort it took to herd the half dozen boys who joined her to walk over to Shield’s End, they arrived fairly quickly. Smoke was visible from Hartwell House, which sat a half mile away, but now, as they walked up the lane to the house, she could see flames licking up from the structure. Her heart ached at the sight. Ash would be devastated.

  Poppy cautioned the boys to stay close behind her and not go near the house. She led them to the back, where a line of villagers were passing buckets from the well to try to put the fire out. It seemed a losing battle.

  Then she caught sight of her sister standing with Ash as they watched the house burn. Though she wanted to go to them immediately, Poppy took the boys to the water line and put them into service first.

  After ensuring they were well organized, she hurried across the grass. “Bianca!”

  Bianca pivoted. Her eyes lit, and she threw her arms around Poppy. In her haste, she knocked into Ash. The hug didn’t last long as Bianca turned back to Ash and clutched his arm. “Sorry, are you all right?”

  He gave her a wry look. “I’m fine. You can hug your sister. I should go see how things are progressing. I fear it’s going to be completely ruined.” He nodded toward Poppy. “Lady Darlington.”

  “Lord Buckleigh, I’m so sorry,” Poppy murmured.

  He ducked his chin, his eyes sad, then took himself off.

  Bianca frowned after him. “I hope he doesn’t overtax himself. He already rescued those who were inside.”

  Poppy gasped. “I didn’t think anyone was living there.”

  “They aren’t, but—” Bianca groaned. “It’s a long story that I shall tell you later. Suffice it to say that Thornaby and his pack of rascals are responsible for this disaster in the name of a prank.”

  Poppy gasped again, this time, lifting her hand to her chest in much the same way Mrs. Armstrong had. “Despicable.”

  “Indeed,” Bianca said darkly.

  A dozen questions ran through Poppy’s head. She chose what seemed the most pressing. “Whatever are you doing here?”

  “Ash and I happened to be passing by.” She opened her mouth to continue, but Poppy cut her off.

  “You and Ash. Happened to be passing by. How?” She put her hand on her hip. “Why?”

  “We’re betrothed!” Bianca’s bright blue eyes gleamed with excitement despite the disaster happening a short distance away.

  “You’re what?” Poppy was surprised and yet she wasn’t. “That was fast.”

  “Faster than you and Gabriel, yes, but as I think you told me at the time, when you know it’s right, why wait?”

  She had said that. Or something like it. Joy coursed through her, and she hugged her sister again, this time for longer as happiness flowed between them. When they parted, Poppy caressed her younger sister’s cheek. “I’m so thrilled for you. I want to hea
r everything. How you ‘happened’ to be passing by with Ash, how he proposed, all of it.” She glanced toward the burning house and then at the water line where Gabriel stood with Ash surveying the fire. “But perhaps later.”

  “Yes,” Bianca said somberly. “Definitely later.”

  Poppy looked around again. “Why isn’t Calder here? Or any of his retainers? Surely they can see the smoke from Hartwell.”

  “Maybe. The clouds have thickened since we arrived. We didn’t see the smoke until we were close to the village.” Bianca snorted. “I am not excusing him, by the way.”

  “Me neither.” Poppy gritted her teeth. “Later, after you tell me all your good news, we need to discuss him.”

  “We do.” Bianca’s tone held a note of foreboding—for Calder. Poppy might have felt sorry for their brother if he hadn’t become a complete and utter blackguard. “I’m afraid he was quite horrible today, and I was actually on my way to stay with you until the wedding. If that’s all right.”

  “Of course it is.” Poppy didn’t know what Calder had done now, but was certain he deserved a good shaking.

  Bianca turned her attention from the house and looked to Poppy. “Let us go and speak to the men and try to soothe them.”

  “Bianca, I am truly sorry for Ash’s loss.”

  “I am too, but I am just grateful he is fine. The loss of timber and furniture is nothing when compared to the loss of a loved one.”

  Hearing her sister speak of her love for Ash and seeing the emotion evidenced in Bianca’s eyes made Poppy smile. “Well said, sister. Well said.”

  Chapter 7

  “It’s good that it starting raining,” Gabriel said, thinking of the largely burned Shield’s End as he joined Poppy in bed that night. “What a day.”

  She snuggled up beside him, laying her hand on his chest, as he sat against the headboard. “It felt like a week.”

  Gabriel stroked his wife’s shoulder and back. “Bianca is all settled?”

  “Yes, though I wonder if she will actually sleep. She’s rather worked up.”

  “The fire or the wedding?”

  “Both. I told her to focus on the latter. I don’t think that will be a trial.”

  Gabriel smiled through his weariness. “They seem very happy.”

  “They do.”

  “It happened rather quickly, didn’t it?”

  Poppy chuckled, her body vibrating against his. “That’s what I told her. She reminded me of something I told her after we became betrothed. Something to the effect of when it’s right, it’s right.”

  He gazed down at the top of her dark head. Her curls were tamed into a plait for sleeping, but he knew from experience that he could unwind it in a trice. Perhaps he would if he wasn’t so bloody exhausted… “Is that how it was for us?”

  She looked up at him, her lips curling into a heart-stopping smile. “Yes. Don’t you agree?”

  “Right doesn’t adequately describe how I felt. To me, it was destiny.” Perhaps he wasn’t as exhausted as he thought.

  She pressed a kiss to his chest, and though he wore a nightshirt, he felt the connection as if his flesh were bare to her. Sighing, she lowered her head to his chest. “Is Shield’s End completely destroyed then? It looked as though the newer wing survived.”

  The addition made in the last century to the medieval-aged manor still stood, but Gabriel had to think it was greatly weakened. “I’m not sure it can remain without the support of the rest of the structure, particularly with the winter ahead of us.”

  “I hope he’ll be able to rebuild soon. I’m glad Thornaby is paying for it.”

  Gabriel snorted. “That’s the least he can do.” Upon learning the fire had been caused by a goat, which Thornaby and his friends had brought into the house as a prank on Buckleigh, Gabriel had wanted to force the man to make restitution. That he apparently didn’t have to be made to do the right thing was a small victory.

  “Yes, after putting goats in the house. Bianca said they did that to Ash at Oxford and thought it would be amusing to repeat the prank.”

  “Makes me glad I went to Cambridge.”

  She glanced up at him. “No one stooped to such idiocy at Cambridge?”

  Gabriel let out a sharp laugh. “Not that specifically. Perhaps I should have gone to Oxford. I would have stood up for Buckleigh if I’d been there.”

  “Of course you would have. You’re the most thoughtful man I know.” She tipped her head back to look him in the eye once more. “Thank you for agreeing to stand up with Ash at the wedding.”

  “It’s my honor. I’m just sorry your brother is being such a miserable pig.” He flinched. “Forgive my description.”

  She patted his chest once. “In this case, I’ll allow it. I may even call him that myself since he refuses to approve of Bianca’s marriage.” Bianca and Ash had gone to tell Calder of their betrothal, but he’d refused to grant permission for her to wed him. Legally, Bianca didn’t need it, but she did if she wanted the settlement their father had left for her. “He’s still denying support to Hartwell House. When did he become such a cold, unfeeling blackguard?”

  Gabriel didn’t have an answer. As long as he’d known Calder Stafford, he’d always been heartless. “Please don’t think poorly of me, but I’m beyond caring about him when so many are affected by his cruelty.”

  “I can’t disagree with you, but I do plan to talk with him about Hartwell House. It’s unconscionable that the building is in need of repairs, there isn’t enough room for everyone who needs shelter, and it’s past time we founded the school.”

  Hearing her speak so passionately warmed Gabriel’s heart. It seemed she truly was breaking free of her melancholy, and for that he was exceptionally grateful. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You can talk to him, but I daresay it won’t matter.”

  “I have to try. The fact that he refuses to host St. Stephen’s Day is bad enough.” She sniffed. “Bianca and I will do our best to ensure the celebration at Thornhill meets everyone’s expectations, despite it being so far away.”

  It was only five miles, but for many of the villagers, it might as well have been London. Thornaby had apparently offered to transport people, and Gabriel planned to do the same. If Darlington Abbey weren’t even farther from the village, he would have insisted on holding the party here.

  “I’m glad that’s sorted, at least,” Gabriel said. “As for Hartwell House, I will do my best to complete the necessary repairs. Some help would not come amiss.” He could use both hands and financial support. He already donated a noteworthy sum to Mrs. Armstrong annually.

  “I was thinking we should raise funds at the Yuletide Assembly. Bianca and I can surely persuade people to donate. We should squeeze Thornaby until nothing comes out.”

  Gabriel laughed. “You’re vicious when you’re on a mission. And that’s a splendid idea—raising funds at the assembly, I mean.”

  She rotated her body so that her breasts were pressed against his chest and side and looked up at him with a saucy smile. “You don’t agree with us bleeding Thornaby dry?”

  “I’d actually pay money to see that.”

  Her eyes sparked. “Another way to raise funds!”

  He laughed again. “Yes, though none of this solves the issue of providing additional room for Dinah and anyone else who comes along, nor does it address the school.”

  Her mouth tipped into a half frown. “I know. Watching Shield’s End burn, I was thinking it could have made a marvelous extension of Hartwell House.”

  “Indeed it would have.” He lightly massaged her neck.

  “You’re assuming Dinah wants to stay,” she said softly, laying her head back on his chest.

  He assumed nothing. He hoped she wouldn’t, actually, that she would give her baby to them to raise. But he didn’t voice that. “You’ve done your best to convince her.”

  Poppy ran her fingertip along the neck of his nightshirt. “You sound a bit disappointed.”

/>   Damn. “I’m not.” Yet. “We should invite her to reside in the cottage for as long as she needs, though I’m sure Mrs. Armstrong would like to have Judith back at some point.”

  Sliding up his body a few inches, Poppy pressed a kiss against his collarbone. Exhausted or not, his cock didn’t care as it stirred to attention. “You’re the sweetest man. I’ll let her know tomorrow. I plan to visit in the morning because I don’t know how much time I can spend there over the next few days. There’s much to do to prepare for Bianca’s wedding.”

  Gabriel worked to ignore the desire swirling through him. They were both tired. “Mmm.”

  “I wanted to tell you what Mrs. Armstrong said to me today,” she said softly, stirring him from his preoccupied haze.

  “What’s that?”

  She pushed up to a sitting position beside him, her body angled to his. “She encouraged us to foster a child—or children. That’s what she and Mr. Armstrong did. I didn’t realize Judith has been with her since she was four.”

  “I didn’t realize it was that long either,” Gabriel said.

  “She believes we’ll have a family when it’s meant to be.” Poppy’s entire face beamed with warmth—and love. “I believe that too.”

  He clasped her waist and pulled her atop him so she straddled his hips. “I believe I married the most spectacular woman who will undoubtedly make all my dreams come true.”

  Her eyes narrowed provocatively as she pressed her pelvis down against his. “And what is your dream right now?”

  He held her tight and moved her over his rigid erection. “I think you can probably tell.”

  She curled her arms around his neck and gave him a smoldering smile. “Good, because that’s mine too.”

  Bianca’s wedding the day before had been lovely and wonderful, even without the presence of their brother. Or maybe because of it. Poppy thrust him from her mind. Thinking of him only made her angry, and she was determined to be positive and pleasant. It was, after all, Christmastime.

  Today was St. Nicholas Day, and already Darlington Abbey was adorned in greenery. Poppy made sure mistletoe was hung in key places, including Gabriel’s study and the doorway between their sitting room and bedchamber. Plus at least a half dozen other places Gabriel would least expect. She’d done the same last year, and it had led to a rather memorable afternoon in the orangery.