– she was his, now, and he could look on that face for the rest of his life if he wished.
***
The adoption papers were settled even before Nigel’s new estate was in order. Andrew had gone to great lengths to prepare the home for the couple, but as there were details to arrange around the matter of staff and tenants, it was delayed by a few days after the wedding.
In the interval, Margaret and Nigel rode to the neighbouring village and had the magistrate sign the necessary documents to officially receive Poppy into their family.
Nigel and Margaret had both talked at length about the arrangement, wanting to be certain that Poppy understood what was happening, wanting to be certain that it was what she wanted. Nigel had watched all these conversations pass with appreciation – Margaret seemed to have stepped fully into the role of guardian and had the little girl’s best interests at heart.
“I will always take care of you,” she reassured Poppy again and again. “I want you to know that. Even if you don’t want to be adopted, you will always be a part of my family.”
But Poppy had insisted in the days leading up to the wedding and afterwards, explaining again and again that she wanted a mama and a papa.
The day the adoption papers were finalised, Nigel felt as though his heart would burst with happiness. It was a few days later that they packed their bags and left the Somerville estate in pursuit of their new home. It was only a few hours travel from Lord Somerville’s, but he still seemed sad as they parted, embracing Poppy without a hint of the former animosity, and putting a hand lingeringly on Margaret’s arm.
“Take care of her,” he told Nigel before the carriage pulled away. “I know that you will, but I am her father, I must say it.”
“I will care for her with my life,” Nigel said. “And to be certain of it, you should visit as often as you can.”
He had seen the estate a few times, but Margaret had not. Nigel had mixed feelings about showing it to her. To him, it seemed the most elegant of homes. But he knew that it was much smaller than she had been used to, and he looked at it through her eyes as they crested the hill and looked down on it at last.
The manor was modest compared to the neighbouring homes, but it was neat and beautiful all the same. The exterior was brick and stone, with fine mouldings about the windows and a pretty pebbled drive in the front. It was two storeys tall, and flanked by oak trees.
The grounds were where the real beauty came in, however. They were hardly the manicured stiffness of London gardens or even the proper grounds of the Somerville estate, but they were inviting and lush. There was a small pond to one side with a little dock and a boat tied to it, a folly in the distance amid the orchard, and a rambling garden.
He turned and looked at Margaret, studying her face for any sign of disappointment, and was surprised to see tears in her eyes as she surveyed the scene. He could not bring himself to ask her what she thought or why she wept, but he needn’t have worried. She turned and looked at him.
“It is perfect,” she said. “More beautiful than I could have hoped for, and so tidy and inviting. It is precisely what we need.”
“You do not think it too small?” he asked quietly. “I know that it is not what you would have received had you married one of the Lord Waddingtons of the world.”
She turned from the house and seized his lapel gently between her fingers, tugging him nearer her. “There are a good many things I have received because I failed to marry one of the Lord Waddingtons of the world,” she said.
“I received a good man who I love desperately, and someone who will give me a life worth living.” She cocked her head to the side. “Never speak of the house in such derogatory terms again. It is ours, and that is what matters.”
Nigel smiled and looked back at the grounds, pleased with her answer. He thought of the girl he had first fallen in love with, a wild maiden more of the wind and sea than the land. She was still there in his wife but tempered by the lady he had wooed, the