Page 113 of The Perks of Loving a Wallflower

Philippa lay her cheek against the kitten’s calico fur. “I wish it were. Thank you for asking. But we both know I’m not a Wynchester.”

“Because you’re a York?” Tommy scoffed. “I was something else before I was a Wynchester, too. All of us were. Besides, you know I’m not talking about changing your name. I’m talking about changing your address.”

“My parents already have a plan to change both. It’s underway as we speak.” Philippa twisted her lips. “I’m to be a wife. That is what proper young misses grow up to do.”

“You don’t have to be a ‘proper miss’ or ‘wallflower’ or ‘wife’ or any other such label. You’re Philippa.” Tommy touched her arm. “It’s fine to play a role, but never forget that itisa role. It’s always better to be you.”

“I’ll be the me that’s married to Lord Whiddleburr,” Philippa mumbled. “Marchioness to an old roué I barely even know. But I cannot defy my parents again.”

“Good Lord. You cannot possibly want Whiddleburr.” Tommy shuddered and stepped back. The future was clear. “Nor shall you defy your parents.”

Philippa looked up in shock. “You think I should marry him?”

“No. I cannot agree with your assumption that they can control your life. You’re three and twenty. Two years past the age of majority. Disappointing your parents is not the same as defying them. They’re the ones disappointingyou.”

Philippa clutched Tiglet to her chest and closed her eyes.

“If they’re sorry they raised a wonderful daughter with a mind of her own, then they are the ones with the problem.” Tommy stepped forward and brushed the pad of her thumb across Philippa’s cheek. “The decision must be somethingyoucan live with.”

“I cannot live with ruining my parents’ lives,” Philippa said in a small voice. “I longed to make them proud. Instead…It’s not just them. My reading circle is in danger, too. Our charity work. The women and children who were counting on us. Even the laws my father is trying to pass in Parliament. That’s not what…I was trying to put wrongs to right, not cause new ones.”

“And you did both at once. Actions have consequences.”

“I want different consequences.” Philippa swallowed. “A different life. If I’m to be a wife, a baroness would be splendid. I realize you cannotreallymarry me…Unless you can? I’d much rather be with you than Lord Whiddleburr.”

“No,” said Tommy. “You’d rather have Baron Vanderbean.”

This was not the proposal of her dreams.

Philippadidwant her…but only disguised as someone else. Tommy’s shoulders curved, her exquisite gold-and-blue livery awkward and heavy.

She had been so looking forward to taking her regalia off and being herself again. Then here came the woman she loved, pleading for Tommy to put a disguise back on.

Tommy hadaskedPhilippa to stay. To make this her home, just as Tommy and her siblings had. To be herself.Philippa.Not any label society or her parents tried to place upon her.

That wasn’t good enough.Tommywasn’t good enough. The baron identity was the dressing that made their relationship palatable. Her stomach churned with acid.

Philippa wanted her only if Tommy could be someone else.

“You want me to put on my tail coat and go and beg your father for your hand?”

Philippa’s brow furrowed. “It would take some begging. Lord Whiddleburr outranks you. Outranks Baron Vanderbean, I mean. And you’re not in Parliament. But at least the baron is near my age and not a fortune hunter.”

He wasn’t anything. He wasn’treal.

“That’s all I would have to do?”

“Well, obviously you would need tokeepbeing the baron,” Philippa said. “He cannot disappear the moment we’re betrothed. The ruse will only work if people believe it. You’d have to be the baron in public and anywhere he would reasonably be expected to be present.”

“Obviously,” Tommy repeated, her voice dull and empty.

Her skin prickled beneath her livery. Was it worth it? Was getting to keep Philippa worth giving up herself? Being forced to answer to her father’s name forevermore?

It wasn’t Happy Ever After if only one person was happy with who they were ever after. She didn’t want to be the lesser evil in the choice between Lord Whiddleburr and Baron Vanderbean.

If Tommy wasn’t chosen for herself…then she wasn’t being chosen at all.

“No,” she said quietly. “I’mnotBaron Vanderbean. I’m Tommy. I asked you to stay withme.”