Poppy had tried to go back to drawing, but her heart wasn't in it after Siobhan visited her studio, so she packed her supplies, grabbed a snack, and headed to the folly. Perhaps some time in the fresh air would inspire her. One thing was for sure, she was going to add a hag to her story, and it was going to look a lot like Siobhan.

She placed a blanket on the forest floor and settled against the fallen log on which she had sat the last time she had visited when she had met Isaac for the first time. It was late August, so the weather was lovely, but she was a bit chilly in the shade of the dense tree growth, so she threw on a sweatshirt over her T-shirt to keep warm.

She reached for an apple and bit into it while her hand flew across the page, drawing the hag. She started to grin as the evil ugly face took shape under her pencil. Had Isaac honestly considered marrying Siobhan? What would his life be like if he had?

After a few minutes, she leaned back and looked at the folly as she considered that she didn't feel any different as a married woman and wondered if Isaac felt different as a married man. Should she feel different, or should he? Maybe if they were married in the true sense of the word, they would?

"A penny for them?" Isaac's voice said from behind her, startling her.

His sudden appearance made her jump.

"What, no ATV this time?" Poppy asked, moving over so he could join her on the blanket.

"No, I was working in my office in the stable block when I noticed you leaving. I had my suspicion that you were coming here. I thought you might still be upset about what happened with Siobhan."

Poppy shrugged and showed him the drawing. "I feel better now."

"Wow, if you drew her that way, I'm scared to ask how you drew me?"

"You are a goblin king," Poppy said as she flipped back in the book and found his drawing, showing it to him without fear.

"Huh, at least I'm a king," he ran his hand through his beard as he studied the drawing, and the movement caught Poppy's attention. What would those hands feel like on her skin?

He handed back the book and looked at the decrepit folly. "What are you going to do with it? I don't think it will be standing for much longer." He stretched his long legs before him and leaned back on the log as he looked at it.

How far they had come. He was no longer angry or hostile towards her and even admitted to being worried about her. It probably would have been easier if he had been angry with her. As it stood now, she fell a little bit more in love with him every day.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, I guess. Do you know its history?" Poppy handed him an apple, which he took, brushing her hand with his.

"No, Boyd might, though." He bit into the apple, and they crunched away silently for a few minutes.

"Tell me about yourself, Isaac. As your wife, I should know a little about you." Her shoulder brushed his as she readjusted herself.

"My parents died when I was twelve, and Boyd took me and my sister Molly in and raised us here. It was a fun place to grow up. I joined the military when my schooling was complete, spent some time overseas, and then came home. I realized I had a talent for emergency management and search and rescue in the military when our orders called for us to step in for natural and man-made disasters, so I started my own business."

"Did you go to college?" Poppy asked.

"No, never found the time, you?"

"Yes, I have an undergraduate degree in art from the Royal College of Art and a graduate degree in Literature from Oxford."

"Both English schools," he mused.

"Yes, all of the children in my family have dual citizenship," she explained.

"Really," he looked at her curiously.

"Yes, my grandfather was English, and my grandmother was American. She was from Texas. I grew up in between the two countries." Poppy threw her apple core into the woods and licked the sticky off her fingers without thinking, missing Isaac's eyes following the motion as she did it.

He cleared her throat. "What is Texas like?"

"Lovely, especially in the spring when the Blue Bonnets bloom and cover the hills in fields of blue. My family has a ranch there." Poppy picked up her sketchbook and started to draw an image of the view from the back porch of the ranch's house.

"Do you know horses?" He watched, fascinated, as her hands flew across the page, turning lines into order.

"Yes. I did barrel racing as a girl. I can rope, ride, shoot, and cut a calf. My uncles used to participate in the rodeo, but unlike me, none of the grandkids had any interest in it." Poppy was lost in her memories as she drew the Texas hill country. Eventually, she reached for the colored pencils and started on the blue.

"Who taught you to draw?" he asked, his eyes moving from her hands to her profile and lips as they smiled. She missed it all as she drew.

"My Aunt Norah." Poppy smiled as she thought of her aunt.

Isaac looked at the image on the page, seeing the beauty she had been talking about appearing as they talked.

Poppy could feel his mood change from light to heavy as she drew. "What's wrong?" she asked without looking up.

"What makes you think something is wrong?" he asked.

Poppy stopped drawing and looked at him. "Were you really concerned for me? Is that why you followed me out here?" Their eyes met, and once again, she was caught in them. Issac broke eye contact first as he looked back at the folly.

"The catering staff told Siobhan of our marriage," he said bluntly, not answering her question.

Funny, Poppy hadn't thought of how Siobhan had learned the news. She had assumed that Isaac had told her, and she had to admit she was hurt that he hadn't.

"I was going to tell her before she left. We usually meet after every tour so she can tell me how the tour went and what problems occurred, but the catering staff told her first." He seemed anxious.

"You mentioned that part already," Poppy pointed out, returning to her drawing.

"I was worried you would return late, so I followed you. I wanted to let you know that the Glenns are on their way to visit, and I didn't want you to be caught off guard when you return in case they beat you." Isaac started to stand.

Poppy's heart broke a little. She had believed him when he said he had come to find her to make sure she was all right because he was worried about her, and maybe he was in some vague sense. Perhaps he wasn't warming up to her as she had thought.

"Thanks for the warning." Poppy's voice sounded as unconcerned as possible about the prospect of their sudden visit, and she wasn't concerned, but she was hurt.

"Dinner will be in the dining room, and we'll dress." He watched her. She could feel his eyes on her.

"Sure," she said. "What about the sleeping arrangements?" Poppy asked.

"What about them?" He frowned.

"As in love, newlyweds, wouldn't they expect us to share a room?" Won't it be noticed if we sleep in different rooms? Is Siobhan staying? If she is, I don't doubt that our sleeping in the same bed will be on her mind. That's kind of how jealousy works." Poppy knew that if the situation were reversed, it would be the number one thing on her mind.

"We'll worry about that later," he shook his head, delaying the inevitable. "Do you have something to wear tonight?"

"Yes, Scarlet O'Hara, I have something to wear tonight," she drawled. "I even know which fork to use." She ripped out the drawing and handed it up to him. "Here, this is for you."

He took it and studied it. "Is this Texas?"

"Yes, it's the view from our back porch." Poppy threw her sketchbook down on the blanket and hugged her knees to her chest as she shivered a little.

"You had better go. You have to have your after-tour meeting with Siobhan." Poppy stared at the folly, refusing to look at him. She couldn't hide the hurt from his admission.

"Spending time with my new wife alone in the forest for a few hours sets the right tone. I'm not worried about being late for the meeting." Isaac assured her.

Poppy didn't respond. There was nothing she could think of saying, and if she did respond, he might hear the hurt in her voice because she was very close to tears.

Why, oh why, did she have to go and fall in love with the man? She didn't even like him!

"Don't be too late back," he said after tense silence between them.

Poppy remained silent as he walked away.

What had made her think marrying Isaac Harrison would work? All she was going to get for her trouble was heartache.