Before Bridget could respond, the door opened, admitting Katherine. Timothy hovered in the doorway.
“You’re awake, and looking well,” Katherine said, relief in her voice. “The physician is coming to examine you soon, but he said that if you woke up today, it would be a very good sign.”
“I feel well,” Pippa admitted. “Aside from a faint headache. I’m rather hungry, actually.”
“Well, we’ll fetch you something to eat at once,” Katherine assured her. Hesitating, she glanced over at Timothy. “In the meantime, you have a guest. If you don’t wish to see him, I’ll tell him so at once, but he’s called several times a day while you were unconscious. Almost as often as the physician, in fact.”
Pippa sat up a little straighter. “He?”
Katherine hid a smile. “Why, yes. It’s Lord Whitmore. He says that he has something to discuss with you.”
She sucked in a breath. “I… I would like to see him.”
Katherine nodded. “I’ll send him up directly. And I shall chaperone you; you won’t even know I’m there. As for you, Aunt Bridget, why don’t you go downstairs and have something to eat?”
“I think I might, Katherine,” Bridget said, heaving herself to her feet with a sigh. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Pippa’s head. “I love you, my darling girl. I won’t get in your way ever again. Losing you was…” she paused, swallowing. “It was almost unbearable.”
Pippa closed her eyes. “You won’t lose me, Mama. I’m not going anywhere.”
She spotted her violin leaning against the window seat. The wood appeared to have been oiled and polished lately. She allowed herself a small smile.
They all filed out of the room, except for Katherine, who settled herself demurely in the corner, and took out a book.
“Mama was reading one of Timothy’s novels,” Pippa remarked.
Katherine grinned. “Oh, yes. She’s reading them all. I think she’s discovered that she rather likes novels.”
There was no time for more, because abruptly drumming feet echoed on the stairs, and Nathan burst into her room.
He came to an abrupt stop, looking rather abashed at having created such a commotion, and swallowed hard, striving to compose himself.
“Pippa,” he breathed. “You’re awake. I thought… I thought you’d never…” he bit off the end of that sentence, although she could easily guess what he’d intended to say.
She held out her hand and he came towards her, taking her hand and sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I thought you would die,” he said softly. “They said I couldn’t see you until you had woken up, which I suppose makes a great deal of sense, but at the time…” he swallowed, the sentence tapering off.
He looked rather pale and tired, as if he hadn’t slept well, his hair uncombed and his clothes rumpled. Her hand feltrightin his, their fingers locking together as if they were made for each other.
“It was just an accident,” Pippa said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep our arrangement.”
He smiled faintly.
“Don’t worry aboutmy mother. I think Mama and I have solved our differences, I’m only sorry that it took such a serious incident to do so. She won’t make me marry Lord Barwicknow, for certain. I’m free at last.”
Nathan squeezed her hand. “I rather hoped, Pippa, that you might consider marryingme.”
She met his gaze, his eyes large and hopeful. A warm feeling spread through her chest.
He loves me. I found it, Papa. I found true love, and Mama was wrong – I didn’t have to change myself for it or temper my opinions. I was simplyme, and he loves me for that.
“Yes,” she heard herself say, squeezing his hand back. “Yes, Nathan. Of course, I will marry you.”
Epilogue
Six Weeks Later
The end of the Season approaches, and so the author of this journal is writing her last article.
