Page 53 of The Perks of Loving a Wallflower

A path beckoned between the trees in front of them.

“Gosh,” Marjorie exclaimed. “Have we arrived at the Dark Walk already?”

“By Jove, we have!” Elizabeth exclaimed with far too theatrical a look of surprise. “Why, itdoeslook like a splendid spot to conduct a torrid affair.”

“Elizabeth…” Tommy said in warning.

Her sisters were already backing away.

“My stars, will you look at that?” Marjorie pulled absolutely nothing out of an imaginary pocket. “The current time is ‘leave-Tommy-and-Philippa-unchaperoned o’clock.’”

“Don’t come after us.” Elizabeth waved her sword stick in their direction. “If you don’t take this fine opportunity to make all manner of mischief, you’ll both deserve my wrath.”

Then they turned and ran off, cackling as loud as a flock of crows.

“Do they always meddle?” Philippa asked.

“Always,” Tommy said.

“What do they expect us to do now?”

Tommy paused. “Was it unclear?”

“They cannot really expect something like that.” Philippa laughed, then looked startled. “Can they?”

“They’re probably watching us to see what we’ll do, the minxes.” Tommy held out her elbow. “Shall we promenade in a staid, un-ravish-like manner?”

Philippa looped her arm through Tommy’s. “That’ll show them.”

It would not, actually, show them. It wouldn’t show anybody anything. Elizabeth and Marjorie were hoping Tommy would take this opportunity to give Philippa incontrovertible, empirical proof of Tommy’s interest.

“Did I tell you how lovely you look today?” she asked.

“Baron Vanderbean did,” Philippa replied. “Multiple times.”

“Baron Vanderbean has the unfortunate habit of blurting out the first thing that comes to his mind.”

“Am I the first thing that comes to his mind?”

“Yes.” Tommy swallowed. “Every minute of every day. Should he tell you about it less?”

“No,” Philippa said softly. “I find I like it.”

Tommy’s heart stuttered. “I’ll let him know.”

A breeze rustled the tall trees flanking them on both sides. The shade lent the illusion that they had walked into a tunnel. Long and cool, with no other souls about. Just enough dappled sunlight filtered through the restless leaves to light the shady path.

Philippa bit her lip. “Did I tell you how dashing you look today?”

“Me, or Baron Vanderbean?”

“Both,” Philippa answered. “But mostly you.”

Mostly you.

Philippa looked at her with her breeches and frock coat and short hair and sawTommy. Tommy’s throat went dry. “You did a fine job with the list and the drawing.”

A smile flitted across Philippa’s lips. “Are you going to tell me I’d make a good Wynchester, too?”