Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right

the Service.

He’d land on his feet, she had no doubt.

“I have no solid proof Mama commissioned it,” she said, “except the receipt Nicholas and I managed to get our hands on—which he says may be fake.”

“Why would it be fake?” Eleanor asked.

Poppy drew in a deep breath. “Because my mother…” She held up another pink ribbon. “Can you guess?”

Beatrice put her hand to her throat. “Your mother worked for the government? This is getting to be a bit overwhelming.”

“Isn’t it shocking?” Poppy agreed. “But I know Mama, and I trust my own intuition. She and Revnik both might have colluded to put a message in the painting, but if she’s the mother I know, she got that idea after she’d already asked Revnik to paint the portrait as a gift for Papa.”

“We believe you,” Eleanor said.

“And we’re going to help you get it back,” said Beatrice.

Poppy was so pleased. “Here’s the other part of what I wanted to tell you. I found the man who seems perfect for me.”

Eleanor’s mouth split into a wide grin. “You have?”

“Who?” Beatrice’s eyes widened.

Poppy tried to say who it was, but his name got stuck in her throat. She was angry. And hurt. She felt the veriest stooge.

“Oh, dear.” Beatrice sighed. “It’s the Duke of Drummond, isn’t it?”

Poppy nodded. “You know he’s marrying Natasha. And even if he weren’t, I wouldn’t want him. He—he’s not to be trusted.”

“He’s an Impossible Bachelor,” Eleanor said. “You knew that from the start.”

“I never meant to fall for him,” Poppy said. “In fact, Sergei proposed.”

Both her best friends were in a tizzy.

“It’s what you wanted,” Beatrice said.

“This is—was—your dream come true.” Eleanor giggled.

“Yes, it used to be.” Poppy gave a quick shrug. “But then Eversly proposed.” She paused. “And I might accept him.”

Beatrice squeezed her arm. “But you don’t love him. A true Spinster would never marry a man she doesn’t love.”

“I know.” Poppy couldn’t help it. She felt a lump in her throat. “Remember I said this isn’t just a national security problem but a Spinsters problem?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” said Eleanor in a soothing voice. “And we never really went over that.”

“I simply assumed you meant that Spinsters stick together, even when one of us is stealing—I mean, retrieving—a painting,” Beatrice clarified.

“I did mean that,” said Poppy. “But I also meant that I’m afraid I’m calling into question our basic bylaws. I’ve informed Aunt Charlotte of my concerns.”

“Exactly what are these concerns?” Eleanor asked.

Beatrice led them to a park bench not far from their waiting carriages, and they all sat.

Poppy smoothed out her skirts. “I fell in love with the wrong person. Yet he fits every single requirement for giving up my membership. My situation reveals a basic flaw in our bylaws.”

Beatrice and Eleanor stared at her.

Beatrice bit her lip. “So you’re saying, according to our bylaws, Drummond’s your perfect match—but he’s not.”

“Exactly,” said Poppy. “How could he be, when he’s … already broken my heart?” Her voice cracked a little. “A man like Eversly wouldn’t do that. He’s too kind. And thoughtful. I’d be much better off renouncing my Spinsterhood for him.”

“I see what you mean,” said Eleanor. “If much better off means your heart is never at risk.”

Beatrice sighed. “That’s what it comes down to. You’d be safe with Eversly. But with Drummond, there’s the chance you’d be hurt.”

They sat for a moment in silence.

“Spinsters are brave,” said Eleanor eventually. “We’re not supposed to give in to fear.”

Beatrice smoothed Poppy’s hair. “If we love someone, we have to be willing to put ourselves at risk.”

“I think the bylaws stand,” Eleanor insisted. “You shouldn’t marry anyone who doesn’t meet the requirements. Drummond does, and you have to be willing to risk everything for him.”

Poppy closed her eyes. “It’s too late.”

“Has he been to the altar yet with Natasha?” Beatrice raised a brow.

“No,” Poppy said, “but he fathered her baby.”

She couldn’t bear to think of their intimacies in her father’s library and on Nicholas’s sailboat and then imagine that he’d done all that and more with that scheming witch!

Eleanor scoffed. “And you believe Natasha?”

“Over the man you love?” Beatrice eyed her disbelievingly.

“He never denied it,” Poppy said, a little embarrassed. “But he never admitted it, either. In fact, he was acting quite unlike his usual self.”

“He’s a man with secrets, isn’t he?” Eleanor waggled her brows.

“Yes,” whispered Poppy.

He was a man with secrets. And she suddenly remembered that moment when he’d said thrilled. He hadn’t looked drunk then. Perhaps he’d been trying to tell her something—and couldn’t.

Thrilled was their special word.

One might even say it was their code word.

A small flame of hope surged in her breast. She reached out and grabbed both her friends’ hands. “I knew I loved you for a reason.”

Beatrice grinned. “And we love you, too.”

“We no longer have a crisis with the Spinsters Club,” Eleanor declared. “You’re going to be shrewd about it, but you’re not going to give up on Drummond just yet. Of course, we still have that matter of the portrait to deal with.”

“We’ve no time to waste.” Beatrice stood and popped up her parasol. “Ladies?”

Poppy pulled Eleanor up by the hand.

And they formed a small huddle, their hands resting over each other’s.

“Hell will freeze over,” they recited in whispers, “before we—”

“Give up our passions,” said Beatrice.

“And give in to our parents,” murmured Poppy.

“To marry men we don’t love,” added Eleanor.

They released their hands and said as one, “The Spinsters Club? Never heard of it.” Then Beatrice twirled her parasol, Eleanor adjusted her bonnet, and Poppy yawned to cover a happy grin.

She said her good-byes and walked to her carriage, feeling so much better now that she’d spoken to her friends.

But her grin faded when she opened the door and saw a strange elderly man with a pale face and high shirtpoints waiting for her inside.

“Hello, Lady Poppy,” he said in a thin, grim voice. “Do get in. I am Mr. Groop, and I have something very important to tell you about the Duke of Drummond.”

CHAPTER 43