Do you remember when you received the mysterious gift of a ballgown, and there was no name attached to the package? I am now in a position to fully appreciate how you felt. For the past several days, gifts have begun to arrive at the house every morning, and as they are unsigned, Mama has no satisfactory way to return them to the suspected sender. The first day it was chocolates, then freshly cut roses (don’t worry, I couldn’t accidentally be hurt by a thorn—they’d all been removed). Mama regarded them with horror and ordered Alice to throw them out on the dust heap. Luckily, Poppy intervened, pointing out that the roses would only last a few days, and it was a shame to not enjoy them, particularly as they could have been from anybody. What if we accidentally discarded a gift from the Prince Regent himself? How embarrassing would that be? (Not that it is likely, as I’ve never met him.)
On the next day, a boy delivered a box for me, again with no name attached. Alice asked who had ordered them, but the boy just shrugged and ran off. Well! The box proved to hold candied ginger, which you know I adore. So does Mama, and she allowed me to keep the gift, after sampling a portion. What will arrive next? Who can say?
“Excuse me, misses, but you have visitors,” Alice said from behind them.
Surprised by this announcement, Poppy turned in her seat, looking back at the maid. It was a few days after Rose’s carriage debacle, and the girls had gone out to the garden in the back of the house to enjoy the spring warmth (as it was made clear neither of them should leave the property this day). Seated at the iron table near the house, Poppy decided it would be good to read and answer letters while they had the leisure. Rose had been dictating while Poppy wrote.
Poppy put down the pen and asked Alice, “Is it visiting hours already?” Had she lost track of time?
“No, miss. The gentlemen apologize, but say they would very much like to speak with you briefly. Both of you.”
“More suitors for Rose?” Poppy asked wearily. “Give me their cards, and I’ll decide if we even know them.”
“It’s Lord Norbury and a friend of his.”
Rose, who’d been listening silently until now, looked suddenly interested. “Show them out here, Alice,” she instructed before her cousin could object.
“Auntie would not like it,” Poppy whispered.
“She’s not here,” Rose said. “And I’m curious why his lordship brought a companion. Perhaps he also needs a chaperone.”
Poppy laughed at that, and capped the inkwell, then put a paperweight on the half-done letter.
Alice returned, followed by two men. Viscount Norbury was dressed as perfectly as ever, Poppy noted with the approval of one who knew. With a stepfather in the business of fabric imports, she’d seen very wealthy people try to purchase cut-rate fabrics, hoping to save money. The result was invariably sad, since not even the finest seamstress could work actual magic. Clothing made from poor fabric looked good at first, but didn’t hold up to time and wear. However, Norbury didn’t skimp on any part of his wardrobe. The wool of the pant legs was richly dyed, and the linen shirt snowy white under the brocade jacket.
Then her gaze drifted to the other man, and held there. She couldn’t say what he was wearing, because she didn’t notice. Norbury’s companion was a little shorter than he, but possibly even more attractive. He had dark, alert eyes and a tiny smile on his lips. And he was looking directly at Poppy.
Norbury bowed, saying, “Good morning, ladies. We are scandalously early for calling, I know.”
“Yet another way you flout convention, my lord,” Poppy replied, wresting her attention from the other man…but not for long.
“Have I permission to introduce my friend to you both?” Adrian asked formally, which amused Poppy, considering that Adrian hadn’t exactly followed protocol when they first met him.
Rose answered, “Certainly.”
“Excellent. This is my very good friend, the inestimable Captain Carlos de la Guerra. Mr. de la Guerra, this is Miss Rosalind Blake and her cousin and companion, Miss Poppy St. George.”
“Enchanted,” de la Guerra said, bowing to each.
Poppy wasn’t sure she was enchanted, but she decided to be polite for Rose’s sake. Her cousin had already stood up and taken a step toward Norbury, and the viscount was quick to hold out his hands to guide her. Without even really announcing it, the two of them strolled in the direction of the heavily scented cut flower garden, leaving Poppy with de la Guerra.
As they were already in the gardens, it seemed logical to accept the newcomer’s offer of a turn around them. Poppy wasn’t a fool—she recognized instantly that the sole purpose of bringing a companion along was to occupy Poppy’s attention while Norbury got to speak to Rose alone. But since Poppy could see her cousin in the yard, albeit at a distance, she accepted the subterfuge.
So she walked along the gravel path with her new companion, wondering how he got roped into this escapade, thinking it would be rude to ask directly.
“How long have you known Lord Norbury?” she asked instead.
“Years,” he said. “We met at Eton when we both started in the same form.”
“Lord Norbury introduced you as Captain de la Guerra, and then as Mister.”
“Yes. No title, I’m afraid.”
She said, “I wasn’t concerned about that. But shouldn’t it be Señor de la Guerra?” She didn’t know Spanish at all, but she was quite sure that the language didn’t use “Mister.”
“Usually, but when in Rome…” he replied with a shrug. “Or London, in this case.”
“Are you from Spain?”
