Poppy found Dr. Gladwell in the ballroom, surrounded by a trio of older gentlemen who were animatedly describing their assorted maladies. He looked more than a little relieved when she approached.
“Miss Summers,” he said brightly. “A pleasure.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” she said, casting an apologetic smile at the older men. “Dr. Gladwell, I wondered if I might have a word?”
He immediately stepped away from the men and, in a hushed tone, asked, “Is everything all right?”
“It will be.” She smiled for the benefit of the curious eyes in the room. “But a couple of men down the hall require your attention. Would you mind coming with me?”
The doctor’s smooth forehead creased in concern. “Of course not. My bag is in the room next door; I’ll pick it up on our way.”
Poppy led him toward the office where she’d left Keane, Dane, and Teddy. “They’re in there,” she said, pointing to the closed door.
“Who’s in there?” asked a familiar voice.
Poppy turned toward Kitty, who was assessing the situation with her shrewd gaze.
“I’ll explain everything,” Poppy said. “When I can.”
Dr. Gladwell knocked on the door. “It’s best if you stay out here while I tend to them.”
Poppy longed to return to Keane’s side, but she trusted the doctor. “Please, let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” he called over his shoulder, then entered the office and shut the door.
“Well?” Kitty blinked at Poppy, expectant.
Poppy exhaled. “What have you heard?”
“Let’s see,” Kitty said, dramatically tapping an index finger to her lips. “There was mention of scaffolding collapsing, flames coming from a window, and—oh, yes—a man hanging from the sill.”
“I can confirm those rumors.” Now that Keane was safe, Poppy had a moment to think about what could have happened—what almost did happen—and it made her knees shake.
Kitty arched a brow. “I’ve also heard that the man in question was your duke.”
“My duke?”
“You did dance with him twice this evening,” she said, blue eyes twinkling. “I assume he’ll be all right?”
“Yes.” Poppy exhaled, reminding herself that he was, in fact, safe. “At least for tonight.”
As if Kitty sensed that Poppy was a bundle of raw emotions, she took her hand, led her to a chair, and made her sit. “I have about a dozen questions I’d like to ask you, but I shall refrain. For now,” she added with a wink.
“Thank you.”
Poppy was replaying the events of the night in her head when the door opened a crack, and Dane slipped out. His gaze flicked to Poppy, and he walked closer.
Kitty gasped at the sight of him. “Why does his jacket look like it’s been trampled by a herd of sheep?” She wrinkled her perfectly sloped nose. “And why does it smell like a bonfire?”
“Add those to your list of questions,” Poppy said with a smile.
“Miss Beckett,” Dane said, doing his best impression of a gentlemanly bow.
“Hullo, Dane,” Kitty replied.
“Could I please have a word with my sister?”
Kitty sighed in resignation. To Poppy she said, “I have a feeling you could use a drink. I’ll fetch you one.”
“Just lemonade, please,” Poppy said.
“Lemonade for you, champagne for me.” Kitty tossed her blond curls and grinned as she glided toward the ballroom.
When she and her brother were alone, Poppy asked, “How is Keane?”
“Hawking is fine. He has a plan, which I’m sure he’ll share with you—when the time is right.”
“When will he be coming out?”
“Soon. But there’s something else I need to tell you.”
Oh God. Confessions from Dane always seemed to create more work for Poppy. “What is it?” she asked warily.
He dragged both hands down his face. “I jumped the duke on his way home from the pub one night.”
“Dane! I can’t believe…” She fought back a wave of nausea. “I can’t believe you hurt him. How could you?”
“It was a stupid thing to do. Beyond stupid. I thought … Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I was dead wrong about Hawking.”
“You could have killed him, Dane,” she whispered. “You could have committed murder.”
Her brother shuddered. “I know. I’m sorry. Look, I need to go back in there. The best thing you can do is to return to the ballroom and assure the other guests that Hawking and his cousin are fine.”
“I will do as you ask, but please give the duke a message for me.”
Dane made a face and shook his head, adamant. “Please don’t ask me to relay lovesick sentiments from my own sister.”
Poppy arched a brow. “All things considered it would be the lightest of sentences. Just inform the duke that if he doesn’t come out of that room within the next half hour, I shall find a way in—even if it means I must scale the side of the building.”
With that, she stood, made her way back into the ballroom, and found both Kitty and Hazel. Poppy’s gaze flicked from the grandfather clock to the large entryway and back. Many of the guests had decided not to return to the Assembly Rooms after the harrowing incident, apparently preferring to remove themselves to the Salty Mermaid—much to Lady Rufflebum’s dismay.
“I’m gratified to hear that tragedy was avoided, of course,” the countess was saying. “However, ’tis a pity that the ball was spoiled.” She clucked her tongue. “I do my best to bring some semblance of culture and refinement to Bellehaven Bay, and this is the result.”
“On the bright side,” Poppy said, “no one is likely to forget the First Annual Regatta Ball. People will be talking about it all year, ensuring that next year’s event shall be even more of a success.” She marveled at her ability to engage in small talk when she’d just learned that her brother had tried to kill the man she loved.
“I suppose that is true,” Lady Rufflebum said, apparently mollified. “And it doesn’t hurt that the hero of the tale is a duke.”
“Quite right,” Hazel agreed, surreptitiously poking Poppy with her elbow. “A young, handsome duke to boot.”
Poppy paced the ballroom for several minutes, then paused to check the time. Again. A half hour had passed, and she refused to wait a second longer. Just as she was heading for the door, a striking group of gentlemen strolled into the room. Blade and Dr. Gladwell stood on either side of Keane’s cousin, Teddy, who seemed to require their assistance in order to remain upright.
Keane walked in behind the trio, his confident stride at odds with his disheveled appearance. His cravat was tied in a lopsided slipknot. His hair looked like he’d been at sea for days. One of his jacket sleeves appeared to have been scorched. His hand and wrist were bandaged.
And the sight of him still left her breathless.
He walked directly over and grinned at her, giving no sign of having been on the brink of death earlier that evening. “Miss Summers. Thank you for saving me—again.”
She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. But since all eyes seemed to be on them, she settled for saying, “Your Grace.”
“I am glad you are still here,” he murmured, his words like the tickle of a feather over her skin.
“I am glad you are still alive despite your apparent proclivity for flirting with Death.”
“I am still very much alive—and only interested in flirting with you.”
Her belly turned a somersault. “We need to talk.”
“Can I see you later tonight?” he whispered.
She nodded. “Come to the shelter. I’ll be waiting.”
Poppy checked that Papa was sleeping soundly, placed a few provisions in her satchel, and headed to her refuge. She couldn’t bear to take off the beautiful ball gown so soon, but she’d let down her hair and left her stockings and slippers in her loft.
There was something terribly decadent about wearing silk to the beach. The wind frolicked with her hem; the fabric caressed her skin. She ducked through the entrance, lit the lantern, and pushed aside the curtains, but the swirling ocean breeze did little to soothe her nerves. Indeed, her insides were as knotted as an old fishing net.
She’d hoped that tonight would be the night she could finally tell Keane her feelings.
Instead, she had to tell him that his attacker—the person she’d been helping him look for over the last several weeks—was her brother. The more she considered the circumstances, the more distressing she found them. In order for her to have the possibility of a future with Keane, she needed him to fully embrace her family. But considering that Dane had tried to kill Keane and almost succeeded, she wouldn’t blame him if he wanted revenge. And she certainly couldn’t ask him to trust her brother.
She and Keane had come so close to making their relationship work. They’d navigated their way through treacherous waters only to have their hopes dashed to bits by rocks along the shore.
With a tremulous sigh, she leaned back among the pillows and reached for a book, resolving to pass the time till Keane arrived. But before long, the book dropped against her chest, her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted to sleep.
“Poppy.” Keane’s voice, low and rich, filled her head, mingling with her dreams.
His fingers combed through her hair, caressing her scalp till she tingled from head to toe.
His lips brushed over hers, softly at first, before growing more insistent. He nibbled her lower lip and dipped his tongue into her mouth, kissing her as if his whole world boiled down to this one beautiful moment.
She longed to surrender to the desire that coursed through her body. Wanted nothing more than to give herself entirely to him. Forever.
But above all else, she owed him the truth.
Gradually, she slowed the kiss and pulled away. “Keane.”
“I’ve missed you,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t want to be without you anymore.”
She sat up and blinked, drinking in the sight of him. He’d changed into a fresh shirt and jacket, and his hair was damp, as if he’d gone for a swim before coming to her.
“We have much to discuss,” she said. “I want to know everything that happened tonight—why you were hanging from the window, how your jacket was burned, and why your hand is bandaged. But there’s something I must tell you first, and I fear you’re not going to like it.”
His forehead creased. “As long as you are well, nothing can trouble me.”
“You should reserve judgment until you’ve heard what I have to say. And you must let me tell you the whole of it at once. It will be easier for me that way—ripping off the entire bandage, as it were.”
He propped himself on one elbow, stretched his legs beside hers, and gazed directly into her eyes.
She swallowed, making a valiant attempt to focus. To blithely ignore the tanned patch of skin above his open collar and the muscled forearm below his rolled-up shirtsleeve.
“I know the person who tried to kill you,” she said.
He went very still. “You do?”
She nodded and opened her mouth, letting the awful words come out. “I was in the dark until the ball this evening. You must believe me about that. Not in a hundred years did it occur to me that your attacker could be…” She gulped and forced herself to continue. “… my brother. But it was Dane. He was the one who hit you on the head after you left the Salty Mermaid. I have no idea why he would commit such a heinous crime, nor will I attempt to defend his actions which are … well, indefensible.”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “All I can say is that he is my brother. My hard-headed, protective-to-a-fault, short-tempered brother. And I beg you to have mercy on him. Of course, you have every right to seek justice, but if you care for me in the slightest—and I believe that you do—please do not report him to the authorities. They would, no doubt, hang him, and I do not believe my poor Papa could survive such a thing. Honestly, I don’t think I could bear it, either. If you wish, I could persuade him to go away. To make an honest life in another town and never come back to Bellehaven Bay or London again.”
She took a shaky breath and continued. “I realize that this development changes everything between us. I will not fault you if you wish to walk away from this place. To wash your hands of me and my family … forever.”
Her voice cracked on the last word. Her chest ached. But she’d told him the horrific truth.
Oddly enough, he was still there. His green eyes glowed with compassion—and perhaps something else, too.
“Is that all you wished to tell me?” he asked huskily.
She sniffled. “My brother almost killed you. I’d say that’s quite enough, wouldn’t you?”
“I already knew about Dane,” he said with a shrug.
She shook her head, certain she must have misheard him. “What do you mean?”
“I saw your brother walking to the beach one day, and a few more details from that night suddenly came into focus. I recognized the handkerchief he wears on his wrist. I knew he was the one who knocked me out.”
“Did you confront him?” she asked, aghast.
“No.”
“Did you tell anyone else?”
“Just Diggs. But you don’t need to worry about him.”
“I know.” She frowned. “Why … why didn’t you tell me?”
Keane exhaled. “Because I know how important your family is to you. I didn’t want you to feel torn between loyalty to your brother and your feelings for me. Maybe it was wrong of me not to tell you, but I didn’t want to put you in the middle. And perhaps I was afraid.”
She blinked at him. “Afraid of what?”
He hesitated, then looked at her, solemn. “That you’d choose your family over me. Over us.”
Poppy sat up slowly, letting his words sink in. Warmth blossomed in her chest and radiated through her limbs. “A few weeks ago, before we went to Ascot, we were right here, in this shelter.”
“I remember. I remember everything about you.”
“Then you might recall something I said. I said that you might know me in your head…”
“But that I’d never understand you in my heart,” he finished for her.
She took his large, warm hand and laced her fingers through his. “I was wrong,” she said simply. “What you did, the way you tried to protect me and Dane … No one has ever been willing to sacrifice so much for me.”
“It never felt like a sacrifice, Poppy. It felt like love.” He raised her hand and pressed a slow, fervent kiss to the inside of her wrist. “You needn’t worry that I’ll go to the authorities. I don’t think Dane is a danger to me or anyone else. And he doesn’t need to go into exile either. We’ve talked, and I think we understand each other. He’s a decent bloke.”
“Thank you,” she said earnestly. “For seeing the good in him. Trust me when I say I know it isn’t always easy. If there’s anything we can do to make amends, or if there is anything I can do to repay your kindness, you must tell me.”
“No.” He frowned as if mildly insulted. “All I want is your heart and your trust.”
“You already have that,” she assured him.
“Do I?” he asked earnestly. “There is a part of you that has always been closed off to me. Like a room that you’ve locked up and forbidden me to enter.”
“If it is any comfort, it’s not just you that I keep out. It’s everyone.”
He shot her a winsome smile. “And here I thought I was special.”
“You are,” she said soberly. “And it’s time I let you in.” Even if the prospect terrified her. Her heart was beating triple-time already.
As if he knew, Keane pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why don’t we walk by the water?” he suggested. “I suspect the fresh air and the sound of the waves will do us both good.”
“An excellent idea.”