Page 100 of The Wallflower Takes All

Then he had kissed her beside the Serpentine.

Then she had asked him for more, and he had given it to her.

Poppy had known kisses could be pleasant. She had imagined they might be thrilling. She had not anticipated that a kiss could shift the ground beneath her and leave her with an urgent desire to disarrange a man’s cravat.

His cravat had remained infuriatingly orderly.

Almost everything else about him had not.

The memory returned in pieces as she climbed the steps to Archer House to visit Bea—his hand at her cheek, the low sound in his throat, the astonishing heat of his restraint when it finally broke. It was indecent how vividly a woman could remember being kissed while still wearing all her clothing.

Poppy had changed only her shoes and retied the ribbons of her bonnet, leaving the same white muslin gown and pale blue pelisse to bear silent witness against her. If either garment betrayed that she had been kissed beside the Serpentine by a man who had then announced he must remove himself from her affairs, Bea would notice at once.

Especially since that was precisely what had happened.

A footman admitted her and conducted her upstairs. Bea and Georgie were already in the pale green drawing room, seated near the windows with a tea tray between them. They had the air of women expecting news and prepared to extract it by force if required.

Bea rose first. “There you are.”

Georgie crossed to Poppy and took both her hands. “How are you?”

That was far too gentle a beginning.

Poppy looked from one friend to the other. “I am not certain.”

Bea’s expression sharpened. “What happened?”

“Several things.”

“Begin with Lord Ketterham,” Bea said. “He was meant to call upon you this morning.”

“He did not.”

Georgie’s face fell. “Oh, Poppy.”

“There’s more.”

Bea gestured toward the sofa. “Sit. Tell us.”

Poppy sat because standing required more composure than she had brought with her. Georgie settled beside her. Bea remained upright for another moment, as if sitting might delay judgment, then took the chair opposite.

“Lord Ketterham called upon Gabriel first,” Poppy said.

Both of her friends went still.

“Gabriel,” Bea repeated, her brows shooting up.

Poppy closed her eyes briefly. “Mr. Ashby.”

“No,” Georgie said, with deliberate softness. “You said Gabriel.”

“I was arriving at that part later.”

“Then arrive more quickly,” Bea said, rolling her hand in the air.

Poppy accepted a cup of tea and did not drink it. “Lord Ketterham went to Gabriel’s office to ask whether the rumors about Mama’s household were exaggerated.”

Georgie’s hand tightened around hers. “Oh, dear.”