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Harriet looped her hand through Pippa’s.
“I implore you to consider Lord Chayton,” Harriet said with a far too appreciative sigh. “He is astonishingly handsome and not too old or stodgy. He does not need your wealth, so you would not need to worry about that deceit entering your life.”
“Who is Lord Chayton?”
Harriet discreetly lifted her chin toward a gentleman who danced with a fair lady garbed in a golden gown. They made a lovely couple, and he was indeed handsome with his sandy brown hair, decided chin, and a strong yet stubbornly slanted jawline. Lord Chayton had a ready smile for his partner and moved her with graceful confidence about the dance floor.
“You sound as if you admire him, Harriet,” Pippa said with a teasing smile.
Her friend scoffed; however, a rosy blush tinged her cheeks. “The earl is my brother’s friend and a thorn in my side. My admiration is…mere appreciation for Lord Chayton’s fine form and intellect. Nothing more, I assure you.”
Pippa cast her friend a sidelong glance, wondering if Harriet heard the echoes of longing in her voice.
“I shall see if he is suited to be added to my list.”
Silently Pippa vowed to only assess if he was kind and wonderful enough for her friend.
Harriet rolled her eyes. “I still believe it very unromantic to choose a potential suitor by hiding your wealth and making a list of qualities a gentleman must own.”
“Unromantic?” Pippa said with an unladylike snort. “I think you mean practical and smart and safe.”
“A list does not account for spontaneity and is very rigid,” Harriet retorted, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing footman. “What if you meet someone who lacks a certain requirement on your list?”
“That means he is not someone I should consider.”
“I daresay you should be impulsive with love and only seek abeauwho makes your heart sing with gladness and yearn…to just smile and dance with them,” Harriet said dreamily, taking a sip of her bubbly.
Though Pippa laughed, a hot surge of want went through her chest, and she glanced away from Harriet lest her eyes betrayed the hunger for such a marriage. When Pippa had her society come out a few years ago, her father had announced her dowry as a staggering sixty thousand pounds along with two unentailed estates. That wealth had gone before her as a beacon, and many gentlemen had flocked to her side with aimless flattery, distant eyes, and indifferent hearts. Several gentlemen had offered for her, and not one of those gentlemen had ever asked her something as simple as what she enjoyed or hoped for from life.
It had hurt her heart, and she had wept bitterly to her mother, who had tried to console her by reminding Pippa that not every marriage was a love match. However, affection would eventually come should Pippa allow it. She’d not wanted to hear those words, not when the evidence of her mother and father’s wonderful love was before her eyes daily in the secret smiles and tender touches they shared.
Pippa had then met the viscount, who had seemed charming and sweetly attentive. Except within a week of courting her, he’d informed her of his tendre for her and his hopes of marrying her. Pippa had thought surely it was too soon for the viscount to announce his intentions and had felt only uncertainty. She was very shy and had difficulty expressing her feelings and emotions. Pippa had finally told him that it was too soon in their interactions for him to speak of marriage and romantic sentiments. However, his desperation had driven him to act like a beast because he needed her inheritance. The pain and fear she’d endured that night tried to rear its ugly head, and Pippa pushed it down into that place where it would not resurface.
“Come,” Harriet said, “I see Agatha. Let’s find if she really plans to accept the dare to steal the duke’s prized stallion.”
Pippa groaned, recalling their ridiculous wagers and dares they’d written on the board at Berkeley Square only a few days ago. Rumors whispered that the Duke of Ranford claimed he preferred horses to courtship, and someone had laughingly suggested stealing the prize stallion he adored so much…only for a few hours for a ride and then return the animal. Of course, Agatha had been tipsy when she wrote ‘dare accepted.’ This was the second or third dare her friend had accepted and not yet acted on. At times Pippa wonder if Agatha was afraid of being too daring.
Almost an hour passed of mingling, and Pippa was excruciatingly aware the viscount watched her most indiscreetly. She hid her smile—one that held equal nerves and determination—in her glass of champagne and behind her laughter and facile chatter. Pippa swallowed the content in a single gulp and set the glass down by the refreshment table.
“I have a matter to attend,” she murmured to Harriet and Agatha. “I shall return in a few minutes.”
Her friends nodded, and taking a steady breath, she wended her way through the crowd and discreetly made her way outside to the terrace gardens. No one of import saw her, and she glanced over both her shoulders and into the secluded corners before she hurried down the cobbled pathway toward the maze. There were no guests near the alcove, and Pippa waited, conscious of the painful pounding of her heart. It did not take long for the viscount to appear, his steps hurried, his expression almost anxious.
He is chasing after me.
The viscount drew up short when he saw her. “Lady Phillipa,” he murmured, tugging at his cravat. “I…it is good to see you.”
She stared at him, absorbing the feelings twisting through her. The most profound of them was relief. Pippa had not been able to face him since that horrid night when he had stripped away her romantic illusions. After the viscount had injured her mouth with his bruising kisses and torn her gown with his grasping hands, he had left her in the ruin of her tears in the gardens. She had sat there like a silly fool, trembling and sobbing, believing all was lost and that she had to wait for discovery, the inevitable consequences of scandal. Only, Theodosia had rescued Pippa and saved her in so many ways.
She lifted her chin. “Lord Shuttleworth, I cannot say the same.”
A subtle wince crossed his handsome features. “There was a time you called me James.”
Pippa slipped her hands together and squeezed. “I thought we were friends then, my lord. We are not friends.”
Regret flashed in his brown eyes, and he raked his fingers through his hair before taking several steps closer. It took an inordinate amount of strength to not fidget or dart away when he drifted toward her, but Pippa held her ground. Tonight was about facing this man who had ripped the veil from her eyes and filled her heart with mistrust and guilt.
“I visited your house several times, Phillipa…I had to speak with you after what happened between us and you…you disappeared that night from the ball, and you were just gone,” he said with the most peculiar sense of earnestness. “It was only months later I learned you had gone to Bath with your mother for an extended period, and by then…by then, I had wed someone else.”
