My One and Only Earl (Forever Yours #12) - Stacy Reid Page 0,9

cornflower blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her face was also flawlessly designed with a small, elegant nose, gently rounded cheeks, and sensual lips.

“I will require an advance,” Poppy said. “At least two hundred pounds. I cannot…I cannot go about in society as a companion with my current wardrobe.”

“I have some gowns from last season you could wear,” Lavinia said with a careless wave of her hand. “You’ve lost enough weight since…”

Poppy’s stomach clenched. Since Richard died. No longer were their barbs accusing her of being overly plump needed. It had taken months after her brother’s death to regain an appetite and a determination to live happily. “If you will excuse me,” Poppy politely said, turned around, opened the door, and escaped into the hallway.

She inhaled, then exhaled, long and slow. It was not in her to be spiteful and insist she would continue job-seeking, knowing it might affect her younger sister’s chances at a good match. But it was most certainly in her to be compensated for her duty. Pushing aside the annoying guilt, she hurried up the stairs and to the charming bedchamber assigned to her.

Poppy hugged her arms around herself tightly. It was just a few more months under the roof of her sibling and parent. Poppy would ignore all their barbs and cutting comments. She would not even mind being asked to stay in her room when Lavinia and her baron had company over for dinner. No, Poppy would only direct her energies into planning for her future, for no one else would.

Her gaze went to the small treasure chest on her vanity. Going over to it, she opened the lid and lifted a packet of a dozen letters. She untied the ribbon and selected the letter she had received last from Mr. Delaney.

Just thinking his name sent a flutter of warm sensation through her heart and an odd feeling to settle low in her belly. Though she had been broken with grief the one time they had met, she recalled the stunning beauty of his dark indigo eyes, the comfort found in the breadth of his powerful shoulders, the way his presence had sucked away the pain and replaced the emptiness with wonderful heat.

Poppy thought of Mr. Delaney often over the years. When she had felt so hollow and broken, his kindness had filled the hole of darkness she thought would swallow her under. There had been a few times she had taken out his greatcoat and slept with it cuddled in her arms. All the emptiness would then flee, and for that night, her sleep was peaceful.

The very memory had her cheeks heating and a wry chuckle slipping from her.

Her stepmother and sisters had recovered from their grief quickly, and even Lavinia had bemoaned wearing mourning garb.

With trembling fingers, Poppy unfolded the letter.

Dear Poppy,

Thank you for letting me know you will be traveling to London soon and that you greatly enjoyed the gift I sent for your birthday.

She smiled, recalling the music sheets and the candied pineapples he had sent for her. Somehow, he had appointed himself a guardian of sorts. He sent the rare and wonderful gifts that she hoarded and did not reveal to anyone. Poppy, however, treasured the letters they exchanged more than the gifts.

I still do not think my suggestion outrageous. I would like to purchase you a grand pianoforte. It is not an expensive or inappropriate gift amongst friends at all. When you speak of playing, I feel the passion in your words. I daresay I would like to hear you play one day. Should you arrive in Town soon after this letter, please send me a note at my townhouse in Grosvenor Square. I will enclose the full address for you. Perhaps finally we shall meet again.

Your friend,

James Delaney.

Poppy had been in London three weeks now, and she had not sent him any more letters or even a note to Grosvenor Square. There was a nervousness inside her at the thought of meeting him face to face once more. She did not understand it, for nothing untoward had happened at their first meeting.

The memory of being snuggled in his lap, her face buried in the crook of his neck rose sharply in her thoughts, and a breathless sensation swept through her body. She had too much common sense to think a man so well connected and popular as Mr. Delaney might form a tendre for her. It was only a kindness that he had kept up their correspondence