Philippa adjusted the positioning of the circle of armchairs in the Duke of Faircliffe’s ballroom. No one sniffed in disapproval or scolded her that moving a chair was conduct unbefitting a future viscountess. She was free to be Philippa.
Her reading circle would arrive in half an hour. Er, that was, theDuchess of Faircliffe’sinaugural reading circle, which just happened to take place on the same day, at the same time, with the same people.
Philippa wanted everything to be perfect.
The room was empty other than the chairs and a pianoforte upon the dais. It wasn’t quite the same feel as a room filled with books, but there was plenty of space for her friends.
“Thank you,” she said to Tommy for the tenth time.
“I told you.” Tommy swaggered up to her with an exaggerated leer. “I shan’t accept words. Only kisses.”
Philippa grinned. “Even though I know better, it’s difficult to remember that you’re really Tommy and not Great-Aunt Wynchester.”
“Does that mean no torrid kisses?” Tommy quavered in her old-lady voice.
“I’ll allowone,” Philippa answered primly.
Tommy wasted no time closing the distance between them. She pressed her lips to Philippa’s. Everything else disappeared, until all that existed was Tommy’s sweet kiss. Her mouth was hot, her lips soft and yielding.
Philippa knew these kisses now, gloried in them. They made her feel like a flower coming to bloom. Tilting toward the sun and unfurling each petal, presenting her innermost self for the taking. Kissing Tommy was like opening a window on the first day of spring and breathing in the scent of nature quickening to life.
Her favorite moments were the ones in which her arms were locked about Tommy, and their mouths were lost in a kiss. It didn’t matter whether Tommy was old or young, man or woman. She felt and tasted like Tommy. Her embrace was warm and secure, her mouth sweet.
The feel of Tommy’s tongue against hers awakened Philippa’s body in ways she had once believed inaccessible. Her breasts felt larger, heavier, her nipples straining as if in search of even greater closeness. Desire pooled between Philippa’s legs. Tommy wasn’t even touching her there, and it was happening.
Every part of Philippa’s body was flickering to life.
But time was running out. Philippa’s parents would marry her off before the end of the season. She was determined to grab on to Tommy with both hands for as long as she could.
“You realize you could attend this reading circle as Miss Thomasina,” she said when at last they pulled away from each other. “My mother isn’t here, and Chloe’s door is always open to Wynchesters.”
Tommy shrugged. “If I must disguise my true self to attend either way, then what does it matter which role I choose? Great-Aunt Wynchester is more fun than Miss Thomasina.”
Philippa’s lips parted. Tommy’s ease with costumes was a good point. An excellent point. In fact…choosing the right one might matter very much.
After all, it wasn’t as though Miss Thomasina could propose. But if Philippa rejected Captain Northrup and all other offers, mayhap her parents would then consent to a courtship with a baron.
“What is that clever brain of yours ruminating about?” Tommy tilted her head. “You’re making the queerest expression.”
“I was thinking how unfair it was that only men can propose to women.”
Tommy grinned. “Who needs to be married? The ‘Ladies of Llangollen’ have lived happily together for four decades and counting. They are both mistresses of their shared home, and exemplary hostesses to fashionable and unfashionable alike. Lord Byron, the Duke of Wellington, and so on. And then there are romantic partners like the actresses who—”
Philippa understood Tommy’s point. Of course she had heard of the famous Irish lesbians who, Philippa refrained from pointing out, left their homes because they could no longer liveinsociety and were now relegated to the fringes of it. Celebrated writers and poets like Byron and Shelley and Wordsworth needn’t follow the same rules as a young lady of the ton.
The couples Tommy named needn’t worry about the censure of Patronesses. Nor did they run a reading circle whose membership contained many other young ladies whose standing in society would be jeopardized by even the hint of scandal. If Philippa was ruined, association with her could tarnish her friends’ reputations, risk their charity projects, and jeopardize Philippa’s carefully cultivated alliances with other philanthropic ladies and organizations.
It wasn’t just Philippa’s reputation hanging in the balance. The lives and well-being of children and the less fortunate were at stake as well.
As much as she might dream of being the sort of person with no ties or cares, who could just move to North Wales with her lover and not give a fig what the rest of the world thought about it, that was simply not her reality. She couldn’t behappyknowing she chose herself over her friends, her family, and the futures of those who needed her aid the most.
Philippa shook her head. “First, we need to stop Captain Northrup. Securing his public confession will be justice for Damaris, and also have the splendid secondary effect of his losing favor in the eyes of my parents.”
At that point, if Baron Vanderbean swooped in, Philippa and Tommy could do as they pleased with no one the wiser. A young man stealing a kiss from his betrothed was hardly the stuff of scandal broth.
Philippa and Tommy could just…live.
Chloe strode into the room with Tiglet in her arms. Several members of the reading circle followed close behind.
