Page 29 of The Wallflower Takes All

“I am not livestock,” Poppy pointed out.

“No, but men often are,” Bea replied. “It is best to see how they move in a herd.”

Despite everything, Poppy laughed.

The sound surprised her. It surprised all three of them, perhaps, because for a moment they simply smiled happily at one another like the young women they had been in that retiring room months ago, when everything had seemed terrible and impossible and yet, somehow, not quite as terrible because they were together.

Then the door opened.

Lord Vanover appeared on the threshold, dark-haired, handsome, and so composed it seemed he had known precisely when he would be needed.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he said, though Poppy decided he did not require much forgiveness in his own house. “But my wife has been silent for so long I feared someone had been murdered.”

Bea turned to face him. “I am planning.”

“Ah,” Lord Vanover said gravely. “Worse.”

His gaze moved from Bea to Georgie to Poppy, taking in the letter, the expressions, the general air of female conspiracy. His face changed. “What has happened?”

Bea handed him the letter. “The new Viscount Montague means to take possession of Lady Viva’s town house in ten days.”

Lord Vanover read quickly, his expression becoming more severe with every line. “Algernon Montfort,” he said. “I know the name.”

“Of course you do,” Bea replied. “You know everyone.”

“He has not been much in London,” he said. “I met him once in the country. He was fifteen, perhaps sixteen, and wore a waistcoat embroidered with beetles to dinner, if I recall correctly.”

Poppy closed her eyes briefly. “Yes. That sounds like Algernon.”

“He also corrected a gardener on the proper arrangement of moss.”

Bea looked appalled. “Moss?”

“With confidence,” Lord Vanover added.

Georgie sighed. “Men should not be given property merely because they have reached one-and-twenty.”

Lord Vanover folded the letter and tapped it once against his palm. “Does your solicitor believe Montfort is within his rights?” he asked Poppy.

“Yes,” Poppy said. “Unless there is something in Mama’s settlement, which Mr. Ashby does not expect.”

Lord Vanover’s gaze sharpened. “What do you need?”

There was nothing sentimental in the question. It was plain, practical, and kind in a way that did not require softness. Poppy was immediately grateful for it. She answered him without hesitation. “A husband.”

Lord Vanover did not blink. “Titled?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“Solvent,” Poppy added, tapping her finger against her chin as she thought. “Kind. Or at least not cruel, if we are making requests.”

Georgie slipped an arm around her waist. “We are.”

Lord Vanover moved toward the writing desk, calm efficiency in every step. “Then we begin with a list.”

Bea looked triumphant. “Exactly.”