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“Only if your safety is not in jeopardy.”
“Promise, Pippa.”
“I do promise,” she said. “As long as your safety is not in question. I will not alter that.”
“My safety?” Lily laughed. “You are too much.”
“You cook for Black Heart Blakemore, so you must understand my desire to be cautious.”
Lily’s golden eyebrows drew together, and she tilted her head softly to the side. “You need to trust people, Pip.”
Pippa scoffed. “They need to earn it, first. I trust plenty in those who deserve it.”
Lily looked as though she meant to argue but changed her mind. A smile curved her lips into a wide arch, and she lowered her voice. “I believe Mr. Blakemore may hold me in high regard.”
A rock fell into the pit of Pippa’s stomach, and she did her best to cover her surprise.
Lily didn’t seem to notice. “I never thought it could be possible, that I could be the object of such a man’s affection.”
Pippa raised her finger, pointing it directly at her friend’s chest. “You are worth—”
“Yes, I know how you feel,” Lily said impatiently, pushing Pippa’s hand back down. “But the world does not see things the way you do.”
That was the truth of it. Pippa had been fortunate to grow up in a household that valued people for who they were. Her family had servants, but they cared about them. Hope had been Pippa’s nursery maid when she was a young girl, and when given the choice, had opted to move to Camden Court with them. She still resided in their house, working for them and helping to care for Mabel’s children, but she was valued and loved.
Most of England would find Hope’s relationship to their family odd, but Pippa didn’t care.
“That is hardly relevant now,” Lily said, lowering her voice and leaning closer. “Mr. Blakemore is the kindest, most handsome man I’ve ever beheld, and I think he might feel something for me.”
The rock grew heavier in Pippa’s stomach. “What has led you to think this?”
“Because of the way he speaks to me,” Lily whispered. “The way he looks at me and how his voice grows soft and kind. I wouldn’t have considered his affection to be real, but you planted that seed of potential in my heart, and now I cannot help but hope, and I think it is a glorious thing.”
“What sort of potential?”
Lily’s cheeks pinked, and she dipped her head. “I found myself wondering if someone like you could befriend me so wholly, could a man not do the same? Perhaps even love me?”
“You’ve known this man for a week.” Panic gripped Pippa’s chest and tightened. She hadn’t meant to set her friend up for false expectations. She wanted Lily to understand her own worth, but she wasn’t clueless. Pippa realized that most men wouldn’t see things the way she did.
“Eleven days,” Lily corrected airily. “But it feels more like a lifetime.”
Pippa took great care not to look too disbelieving. Fault lay like a heavy bag of bricks on her shoulders. It was because of her that Lily entertained these notions at all. “None of these things are exactly sturdy signs of his affection, though.”
“Well, they might not be, but I will not let that dissuade me yet.” Lily grinned, shaking her head. “I do not believe a proposal is imminent, Pip, but I do think something is blooming between Mr. Blakemore and myself.”
Pippa drew in a breath, squared her shoulders, and took her friend’s hand. Lily wasn’t being unreasonable. She was merely excited for a potential romance. Glancing at the crowd, Pippa found William standing between his cousin and Mac. He glanced up and looked directly at her as if he’d known where she was before she located him. He must have recently arrived there, for he hadn’t been speaking to Mac when Pippa’s wagon pulled up.
William nodded along to whatever it was Mac was saying, but his gaze was settled on Pippa. Her chest heated, her core clenching with awareness and Lily’s confession ringing freshly in her ears. He could not truly feel anything for Lily if he was going to look at Pippa in such a way, could he? Or perhaps he wasn’t looking at Pippa at all. The possibility that he could be lovingly gazing at Lily and Pippa only misinterpreted it brought reality over her like a swift bucket of seawater.
“Pippa, are you listening?”
Pippa turned toward Lily abruptly, and the basket of tarts flew off her arm, tumbling down to the straw-strewn ground. “Drat!”
“Oh, no!”
Pippa knelt and turned the basket over. Luckily she had tucked the linen tightly enough that most of the pastries had been saved. But there were two casualties, sitting in the dirt and covered in brown specks.
She rose and brushed the knees of her deep blue gown. “Most of them are safe. I better get these to the table.”
