While the Duke Was Sleeping (The Rogue Files #1)(39)

“Yes, and they want to see you, Poppy! They wait in the parlor.”

“They?” Bryony demanded, stopping her hopping to swing her gaze to Poppy. “They who?”

“A duchess! I confess after I was told her title I heard nothing beyond that, although there was a string of names.”

“Poppy!” Bryony clapped her hands in a frenzy. “There’s a duchess calling on you!”

Poppy nodded absently at her sister’s stupefied expression. “Yes, I heard that.” She didn’t need to be told the string of names to follow the duchess’s title. She knew who it was. Currently, there was only one duchess in her life. Poppy pressed her hands together and twisted her fingers. “I, uh, shall go downstairs, then.”

Both her sister and Mrs. Gibbons nodded eagerly. “Yes, do hurry! Don’t keep her waiting.”

She smoothed her hands over her dress and walked with far more composure than she felt down the stairs and into the parlor. Mrs. Gibbons and her sister refrained from following and she knew that must have been a true feat for the both of them.

Indeed, the duchess was there, waiting in the parlor. As well as her daughter and stepdaughter. All three were elegantly attired for traveling, their hands delicately folded in their laps.

“Your Grace. Ladies.” Poppy executed what she hoped was an adequate curtsey.

“Ah, there you are, dearest!” Her Grace rose from Mrs. Gibbons’s shabby sofa and crossed the room to embrace her, the sensation of her slim, beringed fingers patting her back still strange and bewildering.

Poppy closed her eyes in a long blink and patted the lady’s back in turn, still marveling over how she ended up in this situation.

“Poppy?”

She pulled back and turned quickly at her sister’s arrival in the parlor. Her stomach sank. So much for her staying put.

“Bryony,” she returned. “This is the Duchess of Autenberry and her daughter and stepdaughter, the Ladies Clara and Enid.”

Bryony, never at a loss for words, was speechless. She could only gawk, her head bobbing up and down as she assessed the three ladies in all their finery and elegant coiffures. They were resplendent in colorful dresses, the drab background of Mrs. Gibbons’s parlor all the more dreary as it framed them.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” the young duchess exclaimed, stepping forward to assess Bryony with keen, interested eyes.

Bryony pressed a little closer to Poppy’s side, for once appearing almost shy. “I didn’t know you had a duchess,” she whispered for Poppy’s ears alone as she in turn assessed the ebony-haired beauty.

The Dowager Duchess of Autenberry stopped directly in front of Bryony, her dark eyes softly reprimanding as they settled on Poppy. “How remiss of you. What a stunning creature! How old are you, dear?”

“Fifteen, ma’am, I mean, my lady,” she stammered, and performed a clumsy curtsey.

Poppy leaned toward her ear. “Your Grace,” she corrected.

“Your Grace,” Bryony chirped, color suffusing her face. “I mean, Your Grace.”

The dowager clapped her hands together and held her palms pressed together. “Charming,” she pronounced in her heavy accent. “You’re near the same age as my own sweet daughter.” She motioned to Clara. “I am certain you will be fast friends.”

The girl stepped forward and nodded in greeting at Bryony. Bryony’s wide eyes traveled over the girl in her stylish pink-and-blue striped muslin trimmed with matching fur.

“How delightful,” Poppy murmured.

“It will be nice to have two girls of like age in the family.”

“Yes,” Lady Enid chimed in drolly. “Perhaps I won’t be the only one to endure the little magpie now.”

“Oh, posh! Your life would be a dreadful bore without me, Enid. You love me,” Clara insisted with easy conviction, flashing a dimple as she grinned.

“They shall have a grand time together,” the dowager continued with certainty, nodding as she looked between her daughter and Bryony. “It shall put some joy into the season. All things considered, we could use a bit of joy.”

Bryony swung her gaze to Poppy. Accusation gleamed brightly in the blue depths along with the sudden realization that her sister possessed a life apart from her—a life of which Bryony knew very little.

Bryony shook her head slightly and sent each of their guests a confusing look. “Forgive me, I don’t understand.”

Of course she didn’t understand what was happening. Poppy could scarcely understand it herself.

“Poppy!” The dowager tsked and shook her head “Don’t tell me you haven’t told your sister? Why have you kept such a thing secret? She should share in your happiness and good fortune.”

“Told me what?” Bryony demanded.

Suddenly, Poppy found it difficult to breathe. Had the parlor become overly hot? She tugged at her modest collar.

From the corner of her eye, Poppy glimpsed Mrs. Gibbons hovering near the parlor doors. Naturally, she would want the gossip to impart later. The entire neighborhood would be told of the dowager duchess’s visit. No detail would be left out of her report.

Poppy shrugged lamely. “I wanted to surprise her.”

She had not thought her lie would ever reach her sister. She didn’t imagine it would affect Bryony, but now here she stood facing the duke’s family with her sister at her side. Her lie had caught up with her . . . had collided directly into the reality of her world. She wanted to flee upstairs and hide under the covers of her bed.