Poppy found herself both startled and incredibly excited by the sudden proposition Mr. Dempsey put forth! All her life she’d been waiting, almost as if for this moment, for someone to proposition this exact sort of evening. It was a whirlwind of an adventure, entirely uncouth and incredibly frowned upon but— how splendid, even so! Of course it would be none other than the dashing, lovely Mr. Dempsey who would be the one to think of it. Smiling at him with all the eager joviality she could manage, Poppy gave the brunette’s hand a gentle squeeze. She knew better than to accept, (and she hadn’t had quite that much to drink yet), but it was exciting nonetheless. The following admission and Mr. Dempsey’s forlorn face tugged at her heartstrings then even as Poppy clocked the maneuver of his free hand running through his curls. (The gesture made her corset feel a smidge tight.) She shook her head gently at him and smiled. “Mr. Dempsey, I dare say I’ve waited all my life for someone to propose such a thing, but I must admit, I’m not quite dressed for it.” Lies, all of it. Poppy could be changed in a heartbeat, and she had no such qualms galavanting around the streets of a romantic city dressed as she was for a gala. But that was not the point. She didn’t want him to feel badly about it all. Besides, Poppy had someone here she very much wished to see at the cusp of midnight.
“How about we take a turn of the garden instead, and we can plan something quite dramatic for another evening?” A tease glimmered behind her hazel orbs even as the brunette laughed lightly. “But!” She added abruptly. “Do not ever call yourself a fool,” The stitch between her browns formed a small crease at the thought. “You are far more clever than most sir, and I shan’t have you disparaging yourself in my presence!” She almost gave a small hmph of impact at the end to mark a point.
© Fox