“Good,” Poppy leaned forward, glancing at the door. “But be careful. I overheard St. Ives order the servants to inform him of your whereabouts at all times.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “And you are only telling me this now?”
“I’ve had other things on my mind, you know.”
“I cannot believe I have become a prisoner in my own home.”
“It sounds rather thrilling to me.” Poppy gave her a devilish smile.
“Of course it would. You are just as bad as Holly!”
Poppy shrugged. “Since you are quite decided on the matter, why not have a bit of fun with it?”
Willow sent her a bemused look. “Do you know the duke does not even know my name?”
“No,” Poppy drew out, this time real shock on her face. “Are you serious?”
“Yes! And when he attempted to guess, he guessed wrong.”
“How shocking! A husband that doesn’t know his wife’s name.” Poppy’s eyes glazed with unspent laughter. “I wonder if he recalls mine.”
“I very much doubt it. But slow-witted or not, his guard is up. He may suspect I might sneak out.”
“Then you must wait until the duke falls asleep,” Poppy suggested.
“And what if he falls asleep next to me?” Willow said in a low voice. Nowthatseemed a thrilling prospect and she turned away before her sister could see her blush.
“I suppose crawling over him won’t help?”
Willow spun around. “Do not say such things!” Because then she’d imagine them. In fact, she already was. The vision of the duke naked and her crawling over his powerful chest was slowly burning into her mind. Her face flamed.
“You are probably right. He would wake to you wriggling all over him.”
Crawl. Wriggle. The idea of simply touching her husband, no matter what way, caused her heart to accelerate at a rapid pace.
This was a severe complication.
“No matter, I shall come up with a plan,” Willow said resolutely. Shewouldmeet her sister tonight. “So, you do not believe me impossibly selfish for my decision?”
“Of course not,” Poppy said. “There is no shame in seizing an opportunity when it presents itself.Carpe diem, correct? And you saved our family from ruin.”
“I believe the correct phrasing iscarpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.”
“I never can remember the last part,” Poppy said with a grimace. “It burns my ears just to hear it.”
“Yes, well, it’s not about just seizing the day because tomorrow may never come; it’s about trusting in the future.” Willow needed to believe that more than ever.
“If memory serves,” Poppy corrected, “The last part means something along the lines of trusting as little as possible in the future.”
Not where Willow was going with that . . .
“Whatever shall I do now that you are married and Holly has gone into retreat?” Poppy continued. “And probably having the time of her life.”
“I am sure you will find a pot of trouble to stir,” Willow said with wry amusement.
“If only that were true,” Poppy said, eyes sparkling.
It was certainly true in Willow’s case. She had stirred a great big pot. She didn’t know where to start to become the wife she wished to be. Because from the second she had dressed in her sister’s wedding gown, one thought had frozen her mind. A question, really, that had lodged itself right in the center of her heart.
Was this the beginning of a grand life, or the end of one?
