They had just agreed—wordlessly but definitively—to spend the morning exactly where they were when Gregory's hand encountered something that definitely should not be in their bed.
Paper.
He pulled back, frowning. "What is?—"
Anthea felt it too now. Something stiff and folded, tucked between the pillows where she had not noticed it in last night's... distraction.
A letter.
Gregory reached over and retrieved it, his frown deepening as he examined the sealed envelope.
"It is addressed to you," he said, handing it over.
Anthea recognized Poppy's handwriting immediately. Her stomach dropped.
Why would Poppy leave a letter on her bed? Why not simply speak to her directly?
Unless—
No. She was being paranoid. There was surely a reasonable explanation.
She broke the seal with fingers that trembled slightly and began to read.
My dearest Anthea,
I am writing this because I am a coward. Because I know if I tried to speak to you in person, you would talk me out of what I am about to do. Or worse, you would understand and support me, and then I would feel even more guilty for what I am putting you through.
By the time you read this, Henry and I will be on our way to Gretna Green.
The words swam before Anthea's eyes. She read them again, certain she had misunderstood. But the letters remained stubbornly unchanged.
Gretna Green.
Elopement.
No.
"Anthea?" Gregory's voice seemed to come from very far away. "What is it? What does it say?"
She could not answer. Could barely breathe. She continued reading, her hands shaking so badly the paper rustled.
I know what you must be thinking. That I have lost my mind. That I am throwing away everything you worked so hard tobuild for me. But please, please understand—this was the only way.
After Veronica's wedding, after watching Mother try to destroy her happiness even at the altar, I realized she would do the same to me. Worse, actually, because Henry's situation gives her ammunition.
So we are going to Gretna Green. By the time you read this, we will likely be married already. And yes, I know this will create a scandal. I know people will talk. But at least the scandal will be about us choosing each other, not about Mother's manipulations or Henry's father's mistakes.
I am so sorry for doing this at Veronica's wedding. For missing the ceremony—I was there, but I could not bear to say goodbye knowing what I was about to do. For putting you in this position. For failing to trust that you could protect us from Mother's scheming.
But I love him, Anthea. I love him the way you love Gregory, the way Veronica loves Mr. Hartley. And I will not let Mother destroy that.
Please do not follow us. Please do not try to stop this. It is already done.
I love you. I am so grateful for everything you have given me—safety, opportunity, the chance to choose my own future. I hope someday you will forgive me for choosing it this way.
Your loving sister,Poppy
The letter slipped from Anthea's nerveless fingers.
