Page 69 of The Best Marquess

Once settled in the hackney next to Natalie, Pippa tried to halt the trickle of moisture down her cheeks, but naturally her eyes stubbornly refused to cooperate, and she was forced to retrieve a handkerchief from her reticule as she sobbed like a ninny.

What was even wrong with her? Why was she being such a watering pot?

My husband, my best friend, the man who said he loved me, has been lying to me for years. Finn, the one person I thought I could trust without question.

How could someone who had coaxed her through so many bad times, who had held her when she’d been at her weakest, now be the cause of such pain? It was unfathomable. Like she’d woken up in a horrid world where everything was inside out and back to front.

Abruptly her hand was wrapped in the warmth of another, and Natalie stared at her with such compassion that it made her cry all over again. But eventually she managed to control the flow to a few rogue teardrops.

“Thank you,” Pippa croaked.

“What are you going to do?”

She shuddered. “I don’t know. I can’t even think right now. But I can hardly complain, because what would I say? My husband has a mistress? Nearly every gentleman in London has one. They’ll think I’m a damned henwit. Especially as it seems I’m the only person who didn’t know.”

Natalie winced as the hackney bounced over a rut in the road. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know either. I mean, he’s so popular with the ladies, I thought he didn’t want an official mistress. That he didn’t need one. But also, the way he looked at you. When my aunt came home from that soiree at Kingsford House, she spoke of nothing else but Lord Knighton charging through the crowd to claim you. I thought it sounded like the most romantic act in the world. Like what Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice would do…well, after several bottles of brandy, he was rather reserved.”

A watery laugh escaped. “Perhaps I need to stop reading romance novels. My expectations are too high.”

“No,” said Natalie fiercely. “Now is the time we must believe more than ever that there will be a happy ending. I know it is nearly impossible, but we must. That is all we have to cling to when days are at their darkest. Hope.”

Pippa lifted her spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose with one finger. As per usual, she could feel the slight groove in her skin where her spectacles rested. Normally it did not bother her in the least. But today…today was different. Today it felt like a war wound rather than a badge of honor.

Finn’s mistress probably had perfect bloody vision to go with her perfect curves. The experience to match his. Not a silly wife who learned all she knew about bedding from romance novels.

Gah. She was going to start crying again and have an even blotchier face if she didn’t buck up and show some mettle.

Taking several deep breaths, Pippa wiped her face with the handkerchief then blew her nose. “Tomorrow will be better.”

“Yes. Yes, it will,” said Natalie, nodding frantically as the hackney pulled up in front of her aunt and uncle’s townhouse. “Send me a note if you need anything. But go to bed and get some rest. If anyone protests, tell them to go eat feathers. And don’t give up hope, Pippa. This will all work out for the best.”

After Natalie had jumped down, waved, and dashed inside, Pippa directed the hackney driver to take her back to Pinehurst House. The man sent her several concerned glances, but thankfully held his peace, for she didn’t have anything left inside for conversation.

Yet minutes later when they were back in Hanover Square, everything about it reminded her of Finn and their long history. And what an utter fool she’d been. What kind of twit thought, even for a moment, that he didn’t have a mistress? Of course, he did. How else would he be so skilled in providing orgasms? He pleasured women all the time. For heaven’s sake, she’d often teased him about his Regiment. He was never without them, even in a drawing room with a shrouded dead body nearby.

Except he loves this one. The mother of his daughter.

His wife will always be second best.

Pippa shuddered as she paid the hackney driver with a generous coin. “Thank you for your patience today.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “You take care now, lassie. Eat some caramels. They always help a body feel better.”

Oh God. He would say caramels.

Now truly on the verge of hysterics, Pippa babbled a farewell and slid down onto the footpath, before hurrying into the townhouse. The kitchens. She needed food, something she could rely on. Her best choice was to uplift an entire loaf of toasted bread and jar of honey from the kitchens, go straight to their bedchamber and barricade the door, then plant herself in front of the fire with a nice, no-nonsense Latin textbook.

The only sensible response in a crisis of the heart.

Chapter 14

It was dusk when Finn finally returned home, and all his muscles ached, but not only did he have a tidy inventing room, he’d also solved the issue of the double dildo belt. It had taken him a lot longer than anticipated to cut the leather sample to precisely the right size, and ensure it could be fastened with a buckle, but he was certain Pippa would be thrilled with the result when his chosen tanner delivered the leather strips.

After he entered the townhouse, an odd, discordant sound made him pause. Was that…a pianoforte?

Finn turned and walked to the music room. After the previous two weeks, a specter now haunting the house seemed fitting; when he entered the candlelit yet rather chilly space to see his mother seated at the instrument, absently tapping the keys, it was almost disappointing.

“Good evening,” he said softly.