Page 157 of The Wallflower Takes All

“Does it?” Mama asked, touching a hand to her throat. “How very energetic of delay.”

Algernon ignored her. He took a generous pinch of snuff and lifted it toward his nose.

For one suspended second, nothing happened.

Then he sneezed. Violently. Once. Twice. A third time so forceful that Freddie leapt backward and began barking with conviction.

Algernon’s eyes watered. He fumbled in his coat pocket for a handkerchief.

Mama watched with interest. “Darling, perhaps inhale less of it.”

“I know how to take snuff,” Algernon insisted.

Freddie barked again.

“The dog appears unconvinced,” Poppy said.

From behind her, a familiar voice said, “A reasonable position.”

Poppy turned.

Gabriel stood in the doorway, hat in hand, his dark coat immaculate, his expression grave. Publicly, he was Mr. Ashby again. Correct, composed, necessary. Privately, the distance between them felt almost unbearable.

“Mr. Ashby,” she said as relief swept through her in a quiet rush. Thank heavens he was here. She would not have to face her awful cousin alone.

“Mr. Ashby?” Algernon said, turning.

Gabriel bowed. “Lord Montague.”

“The solicitor?”

“Yes.”

“I am perfectly capable of taking possession of my own property,” Algernon informed him.

“No doubt. I am merely here to ensure the transfer is orderly and that Lady Montague’s personal effects are not included in it by mistake.”

Algernon stiffened. “I know what belongs to me.”

“Then my presence should prove no inconvenience,” Gabriel replied steadily.

Poppy looked down before Algernon saw the smile threatening at the corner of her mouth.

Algernon snapped his snuffbox closed. “Where is the cabinet?”

“In the hall beyond the stairs,” Jenkins said.

“The walnut one?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Near the light?”

“As your instructions required,” Jenkins replied.

“Not direct light.”

“No, my lord.”