Page 126 of The Wallflower Takes All

Caldermere rose. “I should be delighted, if Miss Montfort is willing.”

Poppy could hardly refuse. “Certainly.”

She placed Freddie gently upon the sofa beside Mr. Loxley, who regarded the sleeping puppy with suspicion. “If he eats my next poem—” the poet began.

“It will improve his digestion,” Gabriel said.

Poppy looked at him.

His mouth curved by the smallest degree. The private tenderness of it went through her.

Then Caldermere offered his arm, and Poppy accepted.

The Montfort garden was modest, enclosed by a brick wall, and in need of more attention than anyone had given it for several years. The roses climbed where they pleased. Lavender spilled across one edge of the path. A stone bench leaned slightly beneath an overgrown lilac.

Mama had once called the garden charmingly ungovernable.

Gabriel would probably have regarded it as evidence requiring immediate correction.

The thought made Poppy smile.

“You are fond of the garden,” Caldermere said.

“I am fond of its refusal to surrender entirely.”

“A useful quality.”

They walked slowly along the path. Through the open drawing room windows, Poppy could still hear the murmur of voices. Mama laughed at something Count Bellarosa said. Mr. Loxley asked whether Freddie might be moved farther from the cake.

Caldermere looked toward the roses. “I do not intend to trifle with your time, Miss Montfort.”

Poppy’s fingers tightened slightly against his sleeve. “That is considerate.”

“I have spent years avoiding marriage because I had no wish to enter into it merely because Society found my continued bachelorhood inconvenient. But my mother is ill, and her condition worsens by the day. I am eager to ease her final months. She would see me married.”

Ah, so that explained his haste.

The candor settled between them.

Not romantic. But honest.

Poppy appreciated the courtesy. “I understand.”

“I require a wife who appreciates household duty, family name, and difficult responsibilities. Lady Vanover speaks highly of you. Your wit, your loyalty, your competence, your courage.” He paused, his gaze steady. “After meeting you, I understand why.”

Poppy felt the compliment. She could not pretend otherwise. “Bea is loyal.”

“She is also difficult to impress.”

“That too.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “I do not expect any lady to make a decision upon the strength of a single call. Nor would I ask it. But I hope you will permit me to call again tomorrow.”

Poppy’s pulse sped up with the recognition of a door opening. A door large enough to admit Mama, Freddie, every unpaid bill, and every part of the future Poppy had been trying to save.

“Yes,” she said. “I should be pleased. But?—”

Caldermere narrowed his eyes. “But what?”