“Pip, I want you to be happy. I want you to find love. It’s not easy to find, I can testify to that, but it is worth it. I swear to you, it’s worth it.”
I’m trying, Papa. I swear, I’m trying, it’s just sohard.
Pippa was pretty enough, but not in a particularly eye-catching way. At the moment, society loved unusual beauties, and women who stood out ethereal blondes, sleek, raven-haired ladies, women with red-gold hair like goddesses.
With brown hair and blue eyes, Pippa was not exactlyremarkable. She was of average height, with a decently featured face, and an ordinary sort of figure. Besides, there hadn’t been much Society for them now that they were plain old Miss Randall and the Dowager Viscountess. At times, it felt as though they were still in mourning, going nowhere and seeing no one.
Stop wallowing in self-pity,she scolded herself.Papa wouldn’t want it.
“Your cousin William might give us an allowance,” Bridget murmured, half to herself. “He can certainly afford it. Ideally, they might even take you out into Society for a Season. Sponsor you, you know. If so, you must resolutely apply yourself and approach the matter with due seriousness. Cast aside any fanciful notions of romance, my dear. It would be prudent to select a gentleman of considerable means and enter into matrimony for reasons of practicality rather than sentiment.”
Pippa pressed her lips together. “Papa wanted me to find love.”
“Your Papa was not practical,” Bridget shot back coldly. “If he had been, he would have left you a dowry and me a larger widow’s settlement.”
A flash of anger went through Pippa. “That’s not fair, Mama. You loved him, I know you did. You and Papa married for love.”
“Indeed, we did,” Bridget conceded. “And now I darn my own dresses.”
There was a taut silence after that. Pippa swallowed hard, trying to calm herself down. She’d found herself all but raging at her mother more times than she could count over the past two years. Living in such close quarters was always a recipe for disaster, and Bridget seemed to have become colder and sharper since the death of her husband.
She’s the only family I have left,Pippa reminded herself.We have to stick together.
She leaned forward, clearing her throat. “Mama, what will we do if Cousin William won’t see us? What if they won’t help us?”
Bridget’s face tightened, and Pippa guessed that her mother had considered this possibility many times over the past few days.
“I don’t know,” she answered bluntly. “This is our last hope.”
Pippa sat back, a shiver of fear going through her. The plain fact of the matter was that they had no home to go back to. Their rented rooms with its hired furniture would not be waiting for them back home. They could not afford to travel to Londonandpay for their rooms. Doubtless their landlord had already ushered in some hapless new family.
Not that Pippa had been reluctant to leave. The rented rooms had never felt like home, and their rapid fall had been noticed and catalogued by the town. The rector’s wife occasionally brought charity-baskets around for Pippa and her mother, and that was almost too humiliating to bear. They saw the new Viscount and his family in church, and relations between them were strained. The townsfolk made it clear that they thought the new Viscount ought to do something for Pippa and her mother, and the new Viscount had made it equally clear that he disagreed. He had become mulish and resentful under the social pressure and did not bother to hide his annoyance.
No, there was nothing for them back home. Home, as it was, had disappeared entirely.
I wish I could believe that London would be any better,Pippa thought tiredly.If only…
She did not get to finish this thought, because at that instant, there was a resoundingcrackand the carriage lurched sideways throwing Pippa and her mother hard against the door.
“What in heaven’s name…?” Bridget squawked. “Pippa, do step outside and ascertain what is amiss. Are we perhaps ensconced in a ditch? Inquire of that insufferable coachman what he believes he is about. At this pace, he shall jolt us all into a state of utter disarray.”
There was nothing to do but obey. Pippa climbed awkwardly out of the carriage and discovered that they were indeed in a ditch. The carriage stood at an angle, the front left-side axle dug into the dirt. She saw the problem at once.
“The wheel’s broken,” she said aloud.
The coachman had come down from his perch and was standing on top of the ditch, staring down at the crippled carriage in resignation. He shot her an annoyed look.
“I can see that, Miss,” he responded. “Are you hurt?”
“No, we’re not hurt. But how long will this delay us?”
The coachman sighed, glancing up at the darkening sky. “I doubt help will come anytime soon, and we won’t be setting off again until morning.”
Pippa’s heart sank. “What? You mean we have to stay in the carriage all night?”
The driver shrugged. “I’d suggest you stay in an inn. There’s one just over yonder. Unless, of course, you can walk to your destination.”
“Walk?” Bridget chipped in, climbing ungracefully out of the carriage. “We’re not walking up to my relative’s house like a couple of paupers, our bags on our backs. You’ll take us there, as we agreed.”
