Philippa’s fingernails dug into her palms, but she kept her jaw tightly shut. If choosing Lord Whiddleburr over a life of love or happiness could repair the harm done, perhaps itwasthe “right” thing to do. Shehadcaused this damage. Shedidhurt her parents.
She wasn’t the white knight after all.
Eyes blurring, Philippa turned and ran back up the stairs to her private chamber. She dropped to her knees to search beneath the mattress for Tiglet. The homing kitten was nowhere to be found. After a frantic search through her rooms, she gave up and slipped down the rear stairs to the servants’ entrance. Philippa ignored their startled gazes as she rushed out of the house and to the street to flag down a hackney.
The November wind was cold and unforgiving. Philippa’s entire body was shivering by the time she climbed inside the carriage.
This time, she wasn’t running away. She was runningtosomeone. If her remaining freedom could be counted in hours, she wanted to spend every minute of it with Tommy. They might never see each other again.
When she reached the Wynchester residence in Islington, their butler held the front door open wide the moment Philippa alighted from the hackney.
“She’s upstairs,” said the butler, as if Tommy had left standing orders that Philippa was to be admitted at any hour of any day.
“Thank you.” Philippa raced up the stairs.
She poked her head into the Planning Parlor first. It was empty except for Graham, who was reading his usual pile of newspapers. Unlike Philippa’s father, Graham tossed his broadsheets aside at once.
“Philippa! Just the person I both dreaded and hoped to see. Your parcel arrived today. And I wanted to personally—”
“Thank you,” she interrupted, accepting the brown paper package. There had been more than enough unexpected gifts for one day. “Have you seen Tommy?”
“She just returned from Battersea Park,” Graham said. “She’ll be in her dressing room, changing out of her livery. But I wanted you to know—”
Philippa didn’t need information. She needed Tommy.
35
Tommy returned her white wig to its box and yanked off her cravat. As always, today’s mission had been fun and rewarding, but she was eager to doff her uncomfortable livery and be herself again. There was a map she was excited to finish before next week’s assignment.
Most of all, she needed to see Philippa. Tiglet had arrived while Tommy was out, and the morning’s papers had not been kind. As soon as Tommy was back in her usual clothes, she planned to—
The door flew open. Tommy spun around. Philippa burst into the dressing room, dropped a brown paper parcel to the floor, and threw herself straight into Tommy’s arms.
Tommy held her tight for several long moments without saying anything at all. When Philippa let out a muffled sob, Tommy murmured, “Noneof Graham’s associates wrote a negative word about you.”
Philippa choked and pulled away.
Tommy’s stomach twisted. “Our footmen bring him the first copies of the main newspapers, but by then it was too late.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Philippa said dully. “The papers are only repeating what everyone else is saying. I received letters upbraiding me for my impudence in daring to come between a man and his undeserved glory. And my parents…”
Tommy stilled. “Are they all right?”
Philippa let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Of course you’d be more concerned about the well-being of my parents than they are about the well-being of their own daughter. Wynchesters are wonderful. My parents are unhappy with me.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Tommy said firmly. “I mean, you broke a few rules and maybe a couple of laws, but nothing you should feel bad about. Helping others is agoodthing. Damaris, Agnes, and Katherine deserved credit. And Northrup deserved to be taken down. Propositioning you in the middle of a ball, for God’s sake.”
“It doesn’t matter who deserved what,” Philippa said. “I cannot undo what I’ve done, nor would I do so if I could. But I did not mean to cause—”
Amiaowsounded from beneath a discarded frock coat. Tiglet poked his nose and whiskers out from under a lapel.
“You little scamp.” Philippa scooped up the kitten and cuddled him to her chest. “No matter how hard I try to make him happy, he keeps running away.”
“He doesn’t run away,” Tommy reminded her. “He comes home. It’s what he’s trained to do.”
“Which means it’s hopeless.” Philippa looked distraught. “There’s nothing I can do to make him feel at home with me. Tiglet and I are not meant to be together.”
“Or,” Tommy said hesitantly, “perhaps it’s a sign that youare. The Wynchester family can afford to grow.”Shehad learned to grow. “What if…what if this were your home, too?”
