The two women laughed, sides aching with merriment. The noise echoed through the space, drowning out the sound of the door opening.
“What are you two giggling about?”
Poppy sat up straight. She recognized the newcomer instantly, his face unchanged from the wedding picture Catherine had mailed her three years ago.
That black-and-white photograph had done Theodore Oakbury no justice. Now that Poppy sat before him, she had to admit he was quite possibly one of the most handsome men in society. His hair was the same sandy brown as the beaches at Cloudcliff; his eyes were the frothy green of the sea. He wore thin wire-frame glasses, which were presently perched on his freckle-dusted nose. His lips, fuller than those of most Welkish men, twisted into a boyish smile when he saw Catherine. She had also gone starry-eyed, her gaze softening on him.
“Hello, lovely,” he greeted her, then turned to Poppy. “This must be Miss Sutherland.”
“Oh, where are my manners?” Catherine fussed, remembering herself. “Poppy, may I introduce my husband, Theodore Oakbury?”
“Pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Oakbury,” Poppy said. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
“Please, Theodore is fine.” He waved his hand, plucking a sandwich from the tray before taking a seat. “How are you spending your time now that you’re back, Miss Sutherland?”
“Call me Poppy,” she insisted. “I’m devoting my time to getting reacquainted with the city. You know, making the rounds, slowly working my way back into society. I’m sure you heard about my father’s stroke?”
“It caused quite the stir,” Theodore said. “Thank the Founder, His Grace seems to be doing much better now.”
“Thank the Founder,” she agreed. “But the doctor has recommended he begin to wind down. Given the state of the colony, particularly this city, I know he won’t relax. It’s imperative to me that I lighten some of his burden. I intend to find a husband who can support my father, aid him in his official duties.”
“Well, I wish you luck in your search. Any gentleman would be lucky to have you.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?” Catherine’s blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I could make introductions if you’d like.”
Poppy recalled the way Richard had turned his back on her at dinner. “Actually...” She paused to take a breath. “Do you know if your brother is courting anyone?”
Theodore and Catherine stiffened simultaneously, exchanging a look. “Oh, Poppy,” Catherine breathed. “Surely, you don’t wish to pursueRichard?”
The dismay in her tone did not surprise Poppy. Richard had not been a gentle elder brother to Catherine?—he always had some critique about her body, her dress, her posture, her speech. Even as they’d grown into adults, Catherine had continued to write about Richard’s incessant interference with her life and her marriage, which he had vehemently opposed on the grounds that the Oakburys were one of the Second Families?—a group of untitled merchants within society who had managed to accumulate wealth equivalent to that of the nobility.
All this to say, she had not expected Catherine to endorse her brother as a life partner so easily. But she had seen the way the others had interacted with Richard last night, how they all naturally deferred to him, respecting his authority. That’s what she needed: the social immunity of the Montrose name and title. These were the tools with which she would carve her place in society. Catherine wouldn’t understand, not when she had traded privilege for love.
Poppy tried a different approach, drawing her face into a picture of hurt. “Whyever not? I thought you’d be enthusiastic at the idea of us becoming sisters.”
Catherine flushed, stung. “We are already sisters.” She took Poppy’s hand. “We don’t need to be connected by a man for this to be true.”
“Catherine, it must be Richard.” Poppy drew her hand back to count on her fingers. “He’s the heir of a First Family, which means that he will come into the title. He’s well regarded in society. And he has the skills and experience necessary to assist Father.”
“He’s a beast of a man,” Theodore said, his contempt surprising Poppy. “Oh, he’s charming when he needs to be, but a bully to those he deems beneath him. Prideful and arrogant, utterly backward. You could not do any worse than that preening peacock, I assure you.”
“Theo is right, Poppy,” Catherine said. “You deserve a man who will cherish you, and I am not confident that my brother is that man.”
Poppy shook her head. “I am not like you, Catherine, and you know it. I cannot afford to marry a man for love. I have no title, no male next of kin beyond my ailing father. My husband’s name will become my sole power in this society that barely tolerates me. You did not see, last night, how they hardly spoke to me, except to cross-question me and ply me with backhanded compliments. There are many who would be pleased if, when my father passes away, I fade away for good. Only the best match will keep me anchored here beyond a doubt.”
“I would keep you,” Catherine said. “I will not let them discard you.”
“Without a title, I will only be fit to be kept as a maid.” Poppy spread her arms, gesturing at her skin. “Look at me, Catherine. It is no secret why the Imperial Family has denied me a courtesy title, even though my father is the emperor’s cousin. The Colwick girls used to remind me every time I went to their house. My place is at the bottom of the social hierarchy?—unless I can climb to the top of the highest possible family tree.”
Catherine’s mouth thinned.
Poppy saw the opening and pressed harder. “Please, won’t you support me?”
“He’s not a good man, Poppy.” Catherine put her face in her hands. “How can you ask me to send you in harm’s way?”
“He will not harm me.” Poppy pulled her friend’s wrist down into her lap, forcing the other woman to look at her. “If I ever feel unsafe with him, even for asecond, I will drop this pursuit. I swear it.”
Theodore and Catherine exchanged a long, loaded look. Theodore’s face was hard and unrelenting, but Catherine’s shoulders softened, her resolve crumbling.
