Page 103 of The Perks of Loving a Wallflower

“Yours is undoubtedly the cleverest.” Tommy tilted her head. “Come along, you knavish bluestocking wench. Show me where you will absolutely not be meeting that despicable blackguard later.”

Philippa’s legs wobbled with relief. Tonight,shewould be a heroine. An active participant in the adventure. Even if such a moment never repeated, she would always remember with pride the time she brought justice to Damaris and public recognition to Agnes and Katherine.

She hurried out into the corridor. “Come along, Aunt. Tut-tut.”

“I’m notyouraunt,” Tommy muttered, but hobbled quickly for an arthritic old lady with poor vision. She pulled a folded parchment from a hidden pocket and handed it to Philippa. “This map is based on Damaris’s recollection.”

Philippa looked at the sketch. The style was like the other loose maps she’d seen at Tommy’s residence. The difference being, she must have scouted those herself. Philippa hoped Damaris’s memory was as keen as her cryptography.

She considered the map. “We need only go to the end of this corridor, make a left, and the library will be the third door on the right.”

Tommy pulled out her pocket watch. “We must hurry. Half-hour sets are only an approximation, and we’ve already used five of our minutes.”

“Northrup might not miss his key all night,” Philippa said. “Then again, when he finishes this set, he might notice my absence and wonder if I’m awaiting him in his chamber.”

“You won’t be anywhere near there,” Tommy said firmly. “But you’re right. It’s another reason to hurry. Chloe will do her best to distract him for as long as—”

A quartet of footmen bearing heavy trays piled high with refreshments strode around the very corner Philippa and Tommy were walking toward. Philippa stopped in her tracks.

“Ladies,” said the youngest of the footmen. “The ballroom is—”

Tommy pointed at his chest.

“He was here,” she quavered, her entire manner bewildered. “My husband was standing right there until you walked straight into him.”

“I…” The young man exchanged baffled glances with the other footmen.

“He’s a ghost,” Philippa stage-whispered. “Mr. Wynchester has been gone for thirty years.” She waved for them to continue. “Carry on. I’ll bring her back as soon as she’s convinced his spirit has been frightened from the building.”

The footmen hesitated, but the trays of food and libations expected in the ballroom won out. They hurried on without another word.

Tommy continued peering at the wall in confusion until the corridor cleared. Then she turned and grinned at Philippa. “We make excellent partners.”

Philippa flushed. She folded the map and hid it in her reticule.

“I’ll follow your lead,” she whispered.

Tommy stuck her spectacles in her wig at an even more topsy-turvy angle, hunched her back and shoulders, and tottered off down the corridor.

Philippa tried to stop her lips from curving, but her whole body felt like smiling every time she looked at Tommy. Being in her presence was always a treat, but being by herside, being her equal, her partner…It felt like something more important than a team. Something bigger. Something better.

Something she wished could last forever.

“Here’s our left,” Tommy whispered. “If something goes wrong, blame it on Great-Aunt Wynchester.”

Philippa nodded her understanding. And, she thought, perhaps shedidunderstand Tommy a little better than before.

Tommy didn’t charge off headfirst into adventures because she wished to leave Philippa behind, or because Philippa hadn’t entered into her mind. The opposite. Tommy constantly thought of Philippa. She was willing to take any risk that gave a greater chance of Philippa’s future happiness.

Unlike Philippa’s parents, who wanted the best for their daughter only insofar as it benefitted them. The man Philippa would be forced to share her body with for the rest of her life was a cog in the machinery of her father’s political ambitions, one more stepping-stone for her mother’s social climbing. If her parents hadn’t rejected commoners in hope of personal gain, Philippa might have married years ago.

She also would never have met Tommy.

“Third door,” Tommy said. She pressed her ear to the smooth pine. “I don’t hear anyone inside.”

Philippa stepped forward. “I’ll peek through the keyhole.”

Who knew her mother’s trick would come in handy?