Page 77 of All is Fair in Love
With a sigh, Poppy stepped back, clearing the way for Francis to enter the warehouse. She followed as he made his way toward the private apartment on the ground floor. There was a definite familiarity about the way he moved in the space. A comfort in his easy gait. It spoke of a man determined to have his say and for her to listen.
They both came to a halt beside the fireplace. As his gaze lingered on the rug, Poppy imagined Francis recalling their encounter. Of her on her knees before him. Her memories were ones of regret mixed with a deep desire to offer to pleasure him once more with her mouth.
He took the wooden box from her hands and placed it on a nearby table, then turned to her. “I should have stayed and talked things over with you, Poppy. I didn’t make love to you last night because I wanted to protect you. I told myself it was to allow you the opportunity to say no. But I was wrong. It was selfish of me to touch you and then to make you feel an obligation to do what you did. A man has no right to take the liberties I took with you—not unless he is prepared to offer more.”
She ran her fingers over the ring on her right hand, avoiding his gaze. “You didn’t take anything that I wasn’t prepared to give. There should be no sense of obligation on your part. We were two consenting adults. We are friends, and I hope for us to remain that way.”
The sigh of relief she had hoped to hear never came. Instead, a low growl of anger came from the clearly frustrated Francis. “Why won’t you look at me, Poppy? Do I repulse you that much? I thought we were building a connection. The path to something more. Whatever I have done to push you away, please tell me what I can do to fix it.”
She was holding back. And considering her luck with unreliable men, Francis could understand Poppy’s position. First her father, and then Jonathan had abandoned her. But he wasn’t either of them.
“I know we got off on the wrong foot. I lashed out at you because in my mind, I had already taken over this warehouse. It took a little time to accept the truth but believe me when I say I am over all that. All I want now is you.”
“You don’t even know me. And I barely know you. We have shared the occasional morning coffee, and you came to my home for supper. That’s not exactly the sort of thing one risks their whole future over,” she replied.
Francis placed a finger under Poppy’s chin and gently lifted her face. “You are forgetting that I have seen you naked, and you came twice last night—once on my tongue, and the second time as I stroked you with my fingers. Let us not forget what you did to me with your mouth. I know a little more about you, Poppy Basden, than one would in a usual relationship between mere acquaintances.”
She held his gaze. Quiet defiance shone in her hazel eyes. “That was just sex. And I would thank you not to raise the subject of last night again.”
Ah. Now he understood. She was afraid that their connection was something sordid. A bond that had to be kept secret.
Francis wasn’t having any of that. Poppy might well be thinking nothing would come of their encounter, but his mind was already made up.
“You cannot expect me to forget what happened between us. It was magnificent, and I fully intend that we shall engage in such activities again very soon. But yes, I think we should address the issue of learning more about one another. You have met my father. Now I want you to meet the other members of my family who are still in town. Will you please come to supper with me tonight at Will and Hattie’s home in Newport Street?” If he’d had a glove, he would have tossed it to the floor in front of her. The challenge had been thrown down. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”
Why hadn’t he thought of this before? The only experience she had of him was at the London Docks. If she met some other members of his family, people he genuinely cared about, Poppy might come to view him as less of an ogre. And more husband material.
An evening spent at a private residence could be just the thing he needed in order to set their relationship, their future, on a steadier path. If things went well tonight, then he would raise the subject of the spice contract and also his wish for them to marry.
“This is not a good idea. I do not know how to behave in polite society. I have never been to a ball or a formal dinner. Francis, I haven’t the foggiest notion as to how to conduct myself,” she replied, throwing up her hands.
Francis caught a hold of Poppy’s raised hands. Her protests gave him comfort. She wasn’t saying no; she was just unsure what to do. Her life might have been spent on the high sea, but his had been lived exclusively within the haute ton. He would make sure she was able to navigate her way safely through society.
“Just be yourself. This will be a supper with only the four of us. Hattie works with the poor and disadvantaged at a church in the slum of St. Giles. My sister-in-law doesn’t stand on ceremony—in fact, she positively hates it. Like you, Hattie is a practical woman, so I think the two of you will get along well.”
When her brows knitted together tightly, a hopeful Francis reached down, rubbed his thumb over the worry line, and said, “I promise I will keep you safe. Please, come and have supper with my family. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, you just have to say you have an urgent business matter to attend to and we can leave.”
Her shoulders sagged as she let out a resigned sigh. “Alright. But just as long as you understand that I don’t own any fine gowns, nor do I have much capacity for small talk. If anyone starts to talk about needlework or the latest Paris fashions, I won’t have a clue what to say.”
He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I promise we will steer the conversation firmly away from delicate feminine subjects. I am sure you have plenty of interesting stories which you can share. All of them will be far more riveting than needlework. I shall come for you at eight o’clock tonight.”
His heart danced a happy beat as he took in her hazel eyes, and she grinned up at him. “Are you ever going to take no from me, Mister Saunders?”
“No. Now, come. I want you to open your present.”
The sooner Poppy did that, the quicker Francis could send word to Will and Hattie that they were having guests for supper this evening.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The encounter with Francis had been a mistake. A glorious one. But still an error of judgment on her part.
After a good day of chastising herself, Poppy had come to the decision that keeping her distance from the white-haired god of temptation was the wisest course of action. With only a week or so left before the winner of the spice tender was announced, that shouldn’t be too difficult a task. They were both busy, and she had a ship on which she could hide.
All her plans to avoid him now lay in tatters. She was going to supper with members of his family.
What expectations will that create in their minds?
Poppy couldn’t imagine that Francis regularly invited young women to dine with him, let alone meet his family.
