Two months after the engagement ball, on a balmy fall day, Poppy became the fourth Duchess of Hawking.
“I would have been happy to host a traditional wedding breakfast for you,” Lady Rufflebum grumbled, using her fan to fend off a few bits of ash that had floated up to the cliffs from the roaring bonfire on the beach below.
“It was very generous of you to offer,” Poppy replied. “But Keane and I wanted a simple ceremony and a party here at home so that Papa could attend. Besides, you must admit that this is a gorgeous backdrop for the celebration.” She inhaled a lungful of salty air and sighed as the sun painted the sky orange and pink.
“It’s lovely,” the countess conceded, “and terribly unconventional. The London folk must think us heathens.”
“Perhaps,” Poppy said. “But at least they’ve been enjoying themselves.” She gazed down at the shoreline, where children waded in and out of the frothy waves and couples danced gaily in the light of the fire. All the guests had feasted at a long trestle table at the base of the cliffs, enjoying tender roast beef, savory vegetables, ripe fruits, and every sweet imaginable. Two barrels of ale kept the celebration lively.
“The ceremony was beautiful, in any event. I daresay there wasn’t a dry eye in the chapel.” The countess cast an approving glance at Poppy’s simple, pale green dress. “Now then, I believe I shall retire for the evening and leave the merry-making to you and the rest of the younger set.”
“I’m headed for my bed as well,” Papa interjected. He shuffled toward Poppy, grinning even as he stifled a yawn. “I don’t think I’ve had so much fun since my own wedding day. I swear I have enough energy to dance a jig.”
She chuckled and patted his shoulder. “I’d rather we didn’t test that theory.”
“Having you here is a gift, Poppy,” he said sincerely. “And the changes you’ve made to the cottage … It feels like a palace already.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “That was all Kitty’s doing, and we’ve only begun the modifications. Now go, and sleep well. Shall I help you walk home?”
“No need.” His cheeks turned ruddy. “Mrs. Wallaby was good enough to offer.”
“Did she, now?” Poppy raised a knowing brow as she kissed his cheek. “Good night, Papa.”
She made her way down to the beach and found Dane flirting with Lydia—a pretty young woman with a quick smile and a quick wit who worked as a barmaid at the Salty Mermaid. She and Dane had been spending quite a bit of time together of late. Dane had even begun talking about building his own cottage on the shore, not far from Papa’s.
“Felicitations, Poppy,” Lydia said kindly. “Or should I say, Your Grace?”
“Just Poppy, please. My brother, on the other hand, can address me as Duchess.”
He groaned. “I just knew you’d be insufferable.”
“I’d say you had it coming,” she teased.
Lydia cocked her head at Dane, curious. “Have I missed something?”
“That’s a story for another time,” he said smoothly. “And, fortunately, we have plenty of time.”
“I’m not accustomed to seeing this tender side of my brother,” Poppy said. “You don’t seem to miss the entertainments of London.”
“Not at all,” he said, grinning at Lydia. More seriously, he added, “I’m finished with running away, trying to outrun the past. Instead, I’m trying to make peace with it.”
“Why the change of heart?” she asked.
Dane hesitated. “I did something pretty awful once, and somebody forgave me. Gave me a second chance when I probably didn’t deserve it. I figured it was time I did the same … and let go of the hate.”
Poppy blinked back tears. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“I think I’m up to my fourth or fifth,” Dane admitted wryly.
Lydia squeezed his arm and beamed at Poppy. “Don’t worry. From here on out, I intend to keep a close eye on him.”
Poppy chuckled, feeling two stone lighter as she walked through the crowd, looking for Keane. She’d last seen him telling Blade about the parcel of land near the new school building where they hoped to begin construction of their own home soon.
Hazel and Blade had insisted that she and Keane stay with them in the meantime.
“There you are!” Kitty cried, pulling Poppy into an impulsive hug. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Always,” Poppy said, wondering how many glasses of ale Kitty had drunk.
“I am going to miss your hideaway. Whether we were reading books, stealing an afternoon nap, or simply spending time together, it felt like a little slice of paradise. I felt like it was my sanctuary, too.”
“The shelter isn’t going anywhere,” Poppy said firmly, “and you’re welcome there anytime. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop by whenever you can, just to make certain it doesn’t fall into disrepair.”
Kitty clasped her hands under her pixie chin. “Do you mean it?”
“I do.”
She threw her arms around Poppy again and squeezed. “I’m going to pay a visit now. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure no one follows me. Least of all my nemesis.”
Poppy blinked. Nemesis? “Be careful,” she called after Kitty, who was already halfway up the path.
As the sun sank into the ocean, some of the revelers began to leave. She spotted Keane chatting with different groups around the fire, and when their eyes met, she felt the same frisson of awareness that she had when she first found him on the beach.
When the last of the guests finally left, he took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Come with me,” he said.
They strolled along the shore, gazing up at the sky, where the stars seemed to sparkle just for them.
“You look especially beautiful tonight,” he said, eyes aglow with love.
“You look very handsome yourself.”
“Ah, Diggs would say that the clothes make the man, but I happen to think it’s this scar,” he teased, pointing to his temple. “You wouldn’t believe the story behind it.”
“I think I know that story, and I’m rather fond of it.”
“The tale is far from over, you know. It’s only just beginning.”
Her chest warmed. “Today was like a dream. I wish Mama could have been here, but in some ways, she is. I feel her presence in the playful ocean breeze and in the moonlight dancing on the water.”
“I know you feel her here,” he said. “And I know how special this place is to you. I’d never ask you to give it up. I will support you in any endeavor you choose.”
“I think I am ready to set aside my nets and try being a duchess.”
He chuckled softly. “You don’t need to try; you are a duchess. And you can be a duchess who fishes if that’s what you wish.”
“Perhaps I will fish now and then, but mostly for pleasure. I’m turning the business over to Dane. I want to be free to learn new things. To explore the world beyond this beach.”
Keane nodded, thoughtful. “I like the sound of that.”
“What are you looking forward to?” she asked.
“Beyond spending time with you?”
Poppy grinned. “Yes.”
Keane paused, then said, “Being the best duke I can be. Taking care of the estate, helping our tenants, and turning Hawking Manor into a place that feels like … home.”
“You’ll accomplish all of that,” she said with confidence. “I’ll be there to help you.”
He squeezed her hand and stopped in a secluded part of the cove. “I have something for you.” He walked to the cliff wall, withdrew a velvet pouch from a deep crevice, and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” She loosened the drawstring and turned the pouch over, spilling the contents into her palm. A stunning gold necklace shimmered, and a small pendant sparkled in the moonlight. “A locket?”
“Not quite.” He took the necklace, stood behind her, and fastened it at her nape. Suspended from the chain was a tiny glass vial, and she twirled it between her fingertips. “The vial contains sand from this beach,” he explained. “So that even when we’re in London, you’ll have a piece of Bellehaven with you.”
Her eyes welled. “I love it.” She took a moment to compose herself, then said, “I happen to have something for you, too.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a small jelly jar, and placed it in his hand.
He frowned and held it up to take a closer look at the smooth, colorful pieces inside—then his face split into a wide smile. “Is this…?”
“Sea glass,” she confirmed. “I’ve been collecting it ever since that night we spent on the beach. I’ve been thinking about what you said. That it takes time to smooth out the rough edges and reveal the beauty within. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather tumble through life with.”
“I can’t either.” He swallowed and held the jar reverently, as if she’d given him the most extravagant of gifts. “It’s fitting that we’re celebrating the start of our life together here—in the precise spot where we first met. You saved me, Poppy. In more ways than one.” He leaned closer, touching his forehead to hers, and their breath mingled in the space between them.
“You saved me, too. And you helped me see that you needn’t always stray far from home to seek out adventure. Sometimes, adventure comes to us.”
He captured her mouth in a slow, sensuous kiss that made her whole body thrum. “I can’t wait for our next adventure,” he murmured.
She slipped her hands inside his jacket, tracing the sinewy muscles of his back. “I suspect it’s just around the corner.”
“Do you think so?” he asked huskily.
She took a fortifying breath and looked into his eyes. “Andrew Keane, Duke of Hawking,” she said. “Are you ready for your question?”
A surprised smile lit his face, and he rolled his shoulders, as if preparing himself. “Yes.”
“How would you feel about … learning to change nappies?”
“I’ve never really thought ab—” He froze, then swallowed. “Poppy?”
“You have a little time,” she said. “About seven months, actually.”
He abruptly stepped back and searched her face, unabashedly hopeful. “Truly?”
She nodded, and he picked her up and shouted, twirling her around as the surf licked at her toes.
“We’re going to be the happiest family,” he said at last. “I would do anything for you—and for our babe.”
“I know you would,” she said soberly. “I trust you with my heart and my soul. I trust you with our future.”
“Let me tell you what our future holds,” he murmured, trailing kisses along the column of her neck. “Plenty of nappies, to be sure. But also glorious days like this. Magical nights in each other’s arms. Lazy mornings in bed where I bring you steaming hot tea—with one sugar cube and a spot of cream, in your favorite teacup.”
She leaned into him, savoring the perfect fit of their bodies. “I can scarcely wait for tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll have to think of something to pass the time until then.” The wicked promise in his words made her shiver in anticipation.
“More questions?” she teased.
“You know the rules, Your Grace,” he countered, slowly pulling the pins from her hair. “Only one question is permitted each day. But if it is any consolation, I will tell you what is in my heart right now.” His expression turned impossibly tender. “My love for you is boundless. I love you, Poppy Summers. And the day I almost died on your beach was the luckiest day of my life.”
“Mine, too,” she said, melting at the brush of his lips on her shoulder. “Mine, too.”