“You did?” Philippa said in surprise.
“What good would that have done?” Mother said in exasperation. “The only man she’s ever shown any interest in is…Isthatwhat this is about? Are you eloping with Baron Vanderbean?”
“I’m afraid Baron Vanderbean was called home to Balcovia,” Tommy said. “He has not sent word on when or whether he shall return.”
Elizabeth and Marjorie raised their eyebrows at each other.
“Well, that’s something, at least,” huffed Philippa’s mother. “At least I needn’t worry you’ve taken up with a Wynchester.”
Philippa concentrated on petting Tiglet and tried very hard not to exchange glances with anyone.
“Now, darling,” Mother continued, “if you would just be reasonable. Lord Whiddleburr is likely to retract his offer if you no longer reside here in Mayfair with us.”
“There is no offer to retract,” Philippa said. “I’ve already declined it and am not open to considering any others.”
Mother wrung her hands. “Think of your father and his potential connections in the House of Lords. Think of your poor mother, and howcloseyou are to having a title. When you can rule Polite Society as a lady—”
“The only society I wish to keep are the Wynchesters and my reading circle,” Philippa said.
“Darling, you know you cannot havebothof those. Surely you prefer the reading circle over the company of—” Mother coughed delicately into her hand, seeming to recollect at the last moment that there were three Wynchesters standing in her parlor, two with their arms crossed and one with her hands atop the brass handle of a sword stick.
“Those who wish for my company may still have it,” Philippa said quietly. “But if you and Father feel you must punish me to protect your reputations…”
Her father shook his broadsheet without lowering it. “Oh, let her be a spinster in peace. She already was one. I’d as soon see our daughter’s nose in a book as stuck up in the air next to Whiddleburr.”
Philippa’s heart fluttered. “I—you—”
Mother pursed her lips. “I cannot accept such behavior. But it is also clear that I cannot stop you. I do love you, darling. I only wish you needn’t be so difficult.”
“I’m not trying to be,” Philippa said. “As unusual as this seems, life will be simpler. I’ll no longer be welcome in the beau monde, but I hope I’ll still be welcome here.”
“We won’tdisownyou,” her mother said in shock. “Our house shall always be open to our only child. Why can’t you continue living here?”
The newspaper crinkled. “Perhaps because as long as she lives here, you’ll never cease attempting to arrange every aspect of her life.”
Philippa inclined her head at her father’s words. “I have my majority and my inheritance. I’m ready for independence. I love you, Mother—I love both of you—but my happiness lies elsewhere.”
Her mother sniffed. “You cannot possibly expect us to visitIslington.”
Philippa bowed her head. “I would never.”
“Thank God,” muttered Elizabeth.
Marjorie’s skirts fluttered as if she’d kicked her sister.
“Well.” Mother harrumphed. “I suppose you’ve come for your things.”
“Our daughter shall not carry her baggage about like a tramp,” Father said from behind his newspaper. “Have the maids prepare the trunks and send the footmen over with them in the carriage.” He turned the page. “Yes, all the way to Islington.”
“Then this is goodbye. Mother, Father,” Philippa said. “I hope to see you again soon.”
Father shook his newspaper without responding.
It was the same as always, yet so different. He did not have time for her, but he cared about her more than she had ever guessed. Loved her enough to let her go.
Mother followed them to the door, but stopped Philippa before she followed the others outside. She smoothed one of Philippa’s ringlets. “I do hope you’ll find someone you can agree to marry one day.”
Philippa could not help but a smile. Her muscles felt light and free. “Breathe easy on that score, Mother. Love is definitely in my future.”
