Declan pushed himself away from the wall; one corner of his mouth lifted a little higher as he crossed to her side. The urge to pull her into his arms was so strong that he curled his hands into tight fists at his sides to control his carnal impulses. He took a final step toward her, so their bodies almost touched before leaning in, touching only his lips to hers. Slow nibbling kisses that sent shivers down her spine.
“Good Morning,” Poppy whispered back, the kiss ending before she was able to touch him. Gazing up at Declan, she once again felt hypnotized by the intensity of desire reflecting back at her. “How did you know that I would be exiting my room at this exact moment? And why are you making it a habit to startle me?” She could feel her eyes darken. She wanted to scream at him. How could he stand in front of her as if he had done nothing wrong?
He lightly ran his finger down her nose and flashed a slow, devastating smile that stole her breath. “Oh, I have my ways.” He winked, even though inside he was concerned with the look in her eyes. “I was hoping you might like to take a stroll with me before breakfast?” Threading his fingers with hers he raised her hand and pressed a moist kiss to her palm, inhaling her evocative scent deeply before tucking her hand possessively in the crook of his arm, they chatted easily as they made their way to the garden.
As soon as they exited the house, Poppy turned on him. “How can you chat with me about inconsequential subjects when you disappeared for three days without a word?” Her hands planted firmly on her hips.
Declan’s eyes fell. He paused before speaking. He needed the words that he spoke to have meaning. He needed her to understand. He needed her to realize that his absence had nothing to do with her.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He rubbed his face and grimaced.
“Hurt me?” Poppy stared at him. “Now you’re speaking in riddles.” Her forehead creased in annoyance.
“I took advantage of your innocence, Poppy.”
“I gave you permission to take advantage.” She snapped at him, straightening her back.
“It was not mine to take, no matter the permission.” His jaw locked, his lips drawn in a thin line.
“Men are such insufferable creatures,” she huffed. “You want, you take, then you regret?” Poppy stomped her foot not caring that she was acting as a child would. “How is a woman supposed to respond when you don’t even know what you truly want?”
Before Declan could respond, Poppy added. “So let me see if I understand. You lured me to the library with romance and seduction in mind. You pulled me into your arms and lifted my skirt taking what you wanted and now you wish that you could take it all back?” Her eyes flashed a midnight blue instead of the color of a summer sky that he preferred.
“I have the best of intentions.”
She stepped closer and jabbed him in the chest. “Then cease this infernal apologizing.”
He reached for her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and before she could react, his mouth fell upon hers. He’d missed kissing her. She tasted so good. It was short but possessive kiss, one she didn’t fully return yet didn’t fight.
He breathed on her lips as she stared big-eyed at him. After brushing her lower lip with his thumb, he released her.
“Don’t give up on me Poppy.”
“Quit giving me reasons,” she countered.
His mouth quirked up.
He grinned, and she felt it down deep in her bones. “Can we resume our pleasant morning walk now?”
Declan held out his arm and wrapped Poppy’s hand over the muscles bunched there.
Poppy glanced up. “You can relax, Declan.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
“What do you do at Allingham Park?” she inquired. “I get the impression that you do not sit idly by and let others do the work.” She shivered at the rough callouses that covered his fingertips.
“Why, my lady, I do nothing,” he said as he quirked his brow autocratically. “I am a gentleman of leisure.”
She snorted. “You are too restless to do nothing.” Quirking her brow back at him. “I doubt you allow your steward to do a thing. He is probably the true gentleman of leisure.”
He whispered close to Poppy’s ear, “Well, I do help a little.” He placed a finger over his lips, making a shushing sound. “Do not tell a soul. If it got out that I actually worked, my reputation would be in tatters.” He deliberately let his breath brush her ear.
Poppy returned a skeptical look.
“We have all the usual work to be done, but my specialty is sheep.” He whispered the last word, grinning as he lightly nipped her ear. “We have lots and lots of sheep, my lady.”
“Sheep?” She questioned looking up at him with a furrowed brow.
“You know the little balls of fluff that you make wool out of.” His smile teased.
“I know what sheep are.” She pinched his arm playfully. “I have always had a fondness for sheep. They are adorable and fluffy.”
She rested her cheek against his arm, feeling the reassuring rumble of his words.
“All little girls love cuddly little sheep,” he said rolling his eyes. “I assure you my intention is to not keep them fluffy for long. Do you think you would still find them so adorable without their fleece?” He laughed as she swatted at him playfully.
“I have you know my sheep make some of the finest wool in all of England.” Obvious pride reflected in his green depths.
“Mrs. Donovan told us of a place in Berkshire that has the best wool.” Poppy’s brow rose. “Was she talking of you?”
Declan laughed. “I don’t know. I guess we will have to ask her when we visit today.”
She smiled up at him. “You are going to come to the school with me today?”
“Of course,” he stated. “It is the only way to see you, while you are away.”
She blushed. “So, you’re a farmer?”
“I suppose.” One brow rose, with a smirk he asked, “Do you have a problem with me being a farmer?”
“No, I suppose not,” Poppy said. “But, you are no more a farmer than I am. I didn’t think dukes were supposed to do physical labor or any trade at all?”
“Well I guess I’m a different kind of duke then,” he murmured. “I will be a man of leisure here and when I am in London for the Season, but not at my home.”
“I’m impressed.” She tapped him playfully on the arm again, smiling up at him. Touching his hand with her finger, she looked up at him through her lashes. “So that is why you have such a deep tan.”
Declan threw his head back and laughed. “Boy, you and your aunt sure do think alike.”
Blushing, she whispered, “Did my aunt say the same thing?”
He gave her a roguish look. “Yes.”
“Oh, dear,” she murmured.
“Don’t worry, my love.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Pooh,” Poppy exclaimed. “You will have to show me your sheep one day. I absolutely insist that you do.” She looked at him through her lashes.
“Say the word, I will have my carriage brought around posthaste,” he chuckled softly.
“I’m sure Parker would have a thing or two to say about that. Absconding with the marquis’ sister?”
“I shall have to commission a shawl be made from some of Allingham Parks wool. Remember, that I am a lady of some influence with fashion. All of London will require one by the end of next Season.” Her lively eyes flashed with humor.
Spellbound by the slender column of her throat, by the roses in her cheeks, by the brilliance of her blue eyes, which the early morning sun only enhanced, Declan gritted his teeth. Sometimes being a gentleman was tedious business. He sighed audibly, laying Poppy’s hand on his arm again, resuming their innocuous stroll in the garden.
“A shawl you say?” In a rough whisper he responded, “I will see what I can do.” He smiled down at her upturned face.
***
The carriage ride to the school passed without incident. He settled aga
inst the squabs as they passed through the two miles of pretty countryside to reach the school listening intently as Lady Peregrine explained in great detail the benefits the girls received by being a part of her institution.
He felt a vague sense of restlessness when he thought of Poppy with children. He had never really thought that deeply about children before. He hadn’t really thought about being a father before. But thinking of Poppy and children caused of a lot of thoughts to swirl around in his mind. He didn’t think of himself as old, but in the eyes of the world he was probably older than he should be to start a family. He knew that he had to sire an heir. It was expected and necessary. He abruptly put a lid on his contemplations when he noted the sign attached to the top of the archway the carriage was passing through. The Ashford Lane School for Girls.
He knew Poppy was very proud of the work they did at the school. She had told him of the great sense of accomplishment she felt after each weekly visit.
Poppy hoped Declan would appreciate what she was about to show him. In her limited experience, most peers didn’t really care about helpless children. Her stomach fluttered anxiously as they made their way to the school. This was important to her. His response was important to her.
The carriage continued to travel down a very straight path lined with tall elm trees for several minutes before the school came into view.
Declan caught a glimpse of water off in the distance and well-manicured open lawns on either side of the manor. According to Poppy, a walled garden was around the back. The house was a symmetrical building of three stories, built of rendered ruble and with a slate roof. The house consisted of ten bedrooms, three parlors, a ballroom and a gallery library. It was the perfect size for a small school.
Adele was the first to speak up. “So what do you think of the school so far?” Her question asked just as the coachman opened the carriage door and set down the steps.
Declan immediately leapt to the ground and assisted Adele and Poppy with exiting before he spun around on the gravel to gain a full view of the park.
“I don’t know what I imagined, but this was not it.” Declan smiled, glancing up at the building. “It is certainly far lovelier than I imagined.”
“Indeed,” Poppy agreed reflectively. “I think it helps that it is in a house instead of some old rundown brick building in London.”
“I agree.” Declan turned at the approaching footsteps.
Poppy smiled proudly at Declan’s enthusiastic response, noting how with just one smile he won over at least one of the other patronesses.
“Your Grace,” Poppy nodded. “May I introduce Lady Juliet Warren?”
Offering her right hand, Lady Warren curtsied. “I am very happy you are here, Your Grace.”
“I’m delighted I could visit, Lady Warren.” He bowed. A genuinely happy smile spread across his face. “I’m eager to meet the students.”
“By all means, follow me.” She gestured toward the house.
Stepping into the foyer, Declan got the impression of contained chaos as soon as he passed through the door. He knew the children’s ages ranged from infants to the oldest girl being sixteen. And from what Poppy mentioned, Charlotte, the oldest student, was a practiced flirt and he should be on guard.
In the foyer, they were greeted by two more women. “Your Grace,” Lady Warren inquired. “May I present the two other patronesses of the Ashford Lane School for Girls, Mrs. Clara Donovan and Lady Eugenia Bellamy.”
“Your Grace,” They chorused, curtsying prettily.
He bowed. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies.”
“Let’s begin the tour, shall we?” Adele suggested.
Moving quickly, Lady Warren led them down the hall stopping from one room to the next. They showed him the dormitories, the dining hall, and finally pushing open a door to one of the classrooms.
Three little girls about five or six scraped their chairs back and stood at attention when the door opened. They proudly stood before their desks with slates and chalks on top. Happy smiles on their faces.
“Good afternoon,” they chorused in the high sweet tones of children.
“Good afternoon, girls,” Poppy chimed in, “The girls are taught reading, writing and basic arithmetic.” Poppy turned at the sound of footsteps waving the young teacher over.
“Hawksley, may I present Miss Spenser.”
“Your Grace.” Miss Spenser curtsied before she nervously rushed back to her classroom.
“Hawksley, Miss Penelope Spenser teaches the younger girls.”
His green gaze fixed on Poppy’s face, impressed with the bright colorful room they provided for the younger girls.
Moving to the next room, Lady Warren issued a light tap on the door before opening.
“Your Grace, may I present Miss Candice Brenham. She teaches the three oldest girls. She is one of the main reasons we have been able to place our girls so well.”
“Miss Brenham.” He inclined his head, surveying the blushing girls.
“Ladies,” he greeted, smiling his usual devilish smile, which caused the girls to sigh.
Poppy rolled her eyes humorously.
They eventually returned to the main foyer where with an inquisitive look, Poppy asked, “Do you have any questions?”
His lips curved in a captivating smile. “No.” He glanced back down the hall. “All the girls look happy and healthy. This is nothing like the homes that are in London.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “We do have our weekly meeting to attend before we are able to leave.” She looked at him for a long moment unable to read anything in his expression. “Can you occupy yourself for an hour?”
Stepping aside as little girls rushed down the front steps, Declan chuckled. “I’m sure I can remain occupied for that short amount of time.” He gestured towards the running girls. “Where are they headed?”
“It’s playtime,” Poppy responded. “We give the younger girls and hour in the afternoon to just be little girls.”
“I think I’ll step outside for some fresh air as well.”
She glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in about one hour.”
Declan watched her go. She merged with the small group of women as they made their way down the hall into a back room.
Declan wandered alone after that. Making his way outside he watched as two brightly clothed little girls ran wild across the lawn. He hadn’t been around many children. Most of his friends remained unmarried. He did have some cousins on his mother’s side but he hadn’t seen them since Gabriel’s death.
Leaning against one of the nearby pillars, Declan thrust his hands in his pockets, casually observing the girls playtime. The sounds of childhood brought to mind memories of when he was young, running footsteps, raucous voices yelling back and forth and happy laughter floating on the wind.
Glancing around, he spied a little girl sitting on a bench, her tiny legs dangling over the side. She looked to be about five or six. Her bright red hair glowed brightly in the sun. Her animated face held the biggest smile he had ever seen as she talked to the little bundle cradled in her arms.
The restlessness he felt permeated his soul. Drawn by the blissful picture the little girl made, he pushed off the pillar and walked towards her. Declan approached the child and knelt down beside her. “Hello,” he said softly.
She looked up startled, alarmed by his voice. The bright smile that covered her face vanishing quickly. He noticed how her arms wrapped more securely around the bundle.
“My name is Hawk. What’s your name?”
She glanced around for a moment before she replied, “Hawk is not a name. That’s a bird that flies in the sky.” She lifted her arm, pointing a finger upward.
“That’s true,” he said chucking. “My name is really big though, so Hawk is much easier to say.”
With her head cocked in question, “What is your big name?”
“Declan Kieran Trenowyth, the Duke of Hawksley.” He bowed elegantly.
“At your service, milady.”
Giving a gap-toothed smile, she revealed an opening where a tooth used to be. “My name is Beatrice Anne Cob.” She opened her arms to reveal her bundle. “This is Daphne Cob.”
“I’m honored to make both of your acquaintances.”
***
Pleased with the plans so far for the festival, Poppy proceeded to tidy up the paperwork on the table, pausing when she glanced out the window. Studying the scene below, a smile slowly spread across her face in surprise. A churning of compassion invaded her heart at the vision of Declan sitting on a bench next to redheaded little Beatrice with her ragdoll held snugly in the crook of his arm.
***
“Now girls, we have a special guest, I expect you to be on your best behavior.” A genuine smile crossed her features as she gazed at her students. “We are honored to have the Duke of Hawksley with us today.”
“Is the duke going to stay and watch us paint?” A simpering laugh escaped Charlotte’s lips as she batted her eyelashes flirtatiously at Declan where he stood leaning against the wall. “I’m sure he knows everything about what is fashionable in art, he is a duke.”
All he did was walk in the door and he already fascinated them. She couldn’t blame them, of course. Today he wore snug buckskins, gleaming Hessians and a well-fitted coat of blue superfine.
His eyes widened in fright. He shifted restlessly before he glanced nervously in Poppy’s direction.
She raised her brows as if to say see I told you so. Smothering a laugh at Declan’s bewildered expression. “If it would please him, he can stay.” Poppy’s pretty blue eyes danced.
Oh, God. He was in trouble; the sight of her sent a shaft of need straight through him. Her dimple peeked out as she smiled brightly at her students.
“It sounds dangerous,” he whispered, his gaze swept to her mouth.
Her gaze met his. “I thought you were all about danger?” She blushed and quickly glanced away. The sight of that blush made him want to kiss her senseless.
A devilish smile curved his lips. “I like your kind of danger.”
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