Page 19 of Snowed In with the Jilted Duke

Supper was festive, even with the news of “Philippa’s” illness. The older children were allowed to eat at the table if they behaved themselves, and were very conscious of the honor granted to them ahead of Christmas Day. The snow was the subject of much speculation, with the children happily discussing their plans for snow forts and snowball battles once the storm had ended.

Seated at Oliver’s right as Penny had been the night before, Pippa watched the buzzing excitement with a more jaded eye. Tonight, Cousin Yardley had been seated next to her in Lord Hugo’s stead, though he did not seem conscious of the fact that she was not Penny. Clothes did very much make the man—or the woman, in this case.

“How is your sister feeling this evening, Miss Penelope?” Yardley asked.

Pippa tried to hide her start by reaching for her wine glass. “Er… rather poorly, but no worse than yesterday. She should be well enough to rejoin the company within a few days, we hope.” With any luck, Penny would return as quietly as she had slipped away and no one would be the wiser.

“Quite ironic that your sister should be the one to fall ill when you have had such trials with your own illness. We missed both of you at our last two Christmases.”

“Thank you.” Pippa was surprised to hear it. But, then, she had always felt more awkward around the various Dalstons than Penny had. After all, Penny was their future matriarch, while Pippa was a mere hanger-on.

Except… not tonight. Tonight she was Penny. Bright, flirtatious, affable Penny.

She turned a little to face Yardley more fully and gathered some of Penny’s charm into a smile. “Have you found enough entertainment so far?”

To her surprise, he relaxed a little and smiled back. “There’s only so much one can do at a family party but, yes. No cards of course, but we have begun a billiards tournament for the men and boys.”

“How interesting!” Pippa said in Penny’s most fascinated voice. “Tell me all about it. Who is in the lead so far?”

As Yardley spoke with increasing enthusiasm, Pippa glanced to Oliver, only then realizing he had been watching her. With a smile and faint nod of approval, he returned his attention to the aunt sitting on his left. His obvious trust in her ability to carry off the masquerade heartened her more than it ought to have.

The whole meal became more enjoyable as Pippa relaxed into her role, trading quips across the table with other cousins and answering what seemed to be quite sincere inquiries about both her health and “Philippa’s.”

The Dalstons actually seemed to… like her. Both her and Penny.

It was a surprising revelation to Pippa. She had always assumed she and Penny were only there on sufferance, perhaps even disliked by the family. Herself even more than Penny, who at least was meant to become the duchess.

Perhaps she would not need to shore up Penny’s reputation or playact as much as she had thought. Perhaps she could simply... be who the family expected her to be.

“Miss Penelope!” one of the younger female cousins called from further down the table, and Pippa turned to her with a smile. “Will we be making garlands this year?”

A little flustered, Pippa turned to look at Oliver, who gave her a small nod. She turned back to the girl with a smile.

“Of course we shall,” Pippa said. “It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

A pleased buzz arose around the table, and Oliver leaned in close to murmur, “Grandmama has been unable to supervise the making of the garlands the last two years. Your assistance with organizing them would be very helpful.”

Pippa swallowed hard against the warmth that rose in her throat at the way he was regarding her. “I would be happy to.”

“Splendid. I knew we could rely on you.” His smile was brief, but it made her stomach go in loops.

When he looked at her like that, she almost believed she could fulfill the role of his future duchess.

Only until Penny returned, of course.

At the end of dinner, Oliver and Pippa once again led the procession to the drawing room, leaving behind several of the older men to talk and drink at the dining table out of the earshot of their ladies. Oliver knew he would need to join them as their host on at least one of the evenings of the party, but not tonight. Not when Pippa needed his support.

Oliver settled Pippa onto the sofa closest to the roaring fireplace. Before he could sit down, Beatrice darted over to stand on the opposite side of the mantel, waiting with clear impatience for the rest of the family to settle themselves.

At last, Beatrice clapped her hands. “Attention! Attention, if you please. Since we are snowed in and excursions are not to be had, Cousin Kendal has agreed we shall put on a play.”

A general groan rose around the room. Everyone knew of Beatrice’s passion for amateur theatricals, and her frequent desire to make herself the center of the show.

“And in honor of the wedding, I know the perfect play. We shall put on Romeo and Juliet.”

There was a long pause, and Pippa felt the whole room’s eyes on her.

“I don’t—” Oliver began, but Beatrice interrupted him.