Page 59 of The Perks of Loving a Wallflower

Her veins rushed with excitement at the prospect of welcoming Philippa into this jest, just like the baron identity. Having Philippa as a co-conspirator would make the farce even more fun. Tommy grinned at her in anticipation.

Philippa smiled gently. “I know you’re you. And if you would follow me down the corridor—”

“No. I mean, it’sme, Tommy.”

“T-Tommy?” Philippa stammered in obvious confusion.

It was likely difficult to reconcile dashing Baron Vanderbean with the old lady standing before her. Even though Tommy had ceased hunching and had spoken in her regular voice, the wiry white hair and the deep wrinkles and the hands covered in liver spots all painted a convincing picture.

The cosmetics could not be removed without special oils. The extravagant wig was pinned so tight, a hurricane could not have budged it. Her only hope was to convince Philippa with words.

“It’s me, Tommy,” she repeated. “Baron Vanderbean, if you prefer. I have never experienced a superior stroll in a garden to the fine afternoon at Vauxhall in which you and I—”

“Tommy?” Philippa squeaked. “Tommy?”

She did not look like a mischievous, delighted co-conspirator.

She looked furious.

“I couldn’t visit as Baron Vanderbean,” Tommy said quickly. “Your mother limited his attentions to a maximum of once per week, remember? I plan to attend the Oglethorpe ball on Saturday, but I thought—”

“You’ve been Great-Aunt Wynchester thisentire time?” Philippa backed away, her movements jerky. “You’ve been Great-Aunt Wynchester formonths?”

This was not at all going the way Tommy had expected it to.

“When I told you I wasn’t really Baron Vanderbean,” she said carefully, “you were delighted by the jest.”

“I wasinon the jest,” Philippa burst out. “I had just ‘met’ the man, and he was instantly vulnerable and honest with me. It was both charming and disarming.This, on the other hand…” She waved a hand toward Tommy’s disguise. “This!”

Tommy set Chloe’s basket on the dining table. It clearly was not an opportune moment for romantic gestures.

“I didn’t mean to deceive you,” Tommy began.

“You didn’t mean to,” Philippa repeated. “You put on wrinkles and wigs and made a weekly appearance in my parlor every Thursday afternoon…by accident?”

“That was on purpose,” Tommy admitted. “What I mean was, when I started, I didn’t plan on ever telling you the truth, so there was little chance of you being cross with me for it.”

“Cross,” Philippa said. “Oh, I’m cross, all right. I’m tempted to toss you right out of this window and throw your little basket at your head. I cannot believe that…youof all people…”

To Tommy’s horror, Philippa’s eyes were glassy with tears.

“Don’t cry.” Appalled, Tommy felt a strange pricking in her own throat. “Baron Vanderbean trusted you because heknewyou. When Great-Aunt Wynchester met you, it was for the first time.NowI know you can be trusted with a secret. Until the Duke of Faircliffe, my siblings and I had never let an outsider in.”

“I’ll cry if I want to,” Philippa snapped. “These are tears of rage, which I am perfectly entitled to, thank you very much. Everyone always tries to direct my life for me, and frankly I am sick of it.”

“We didn’t know each other then,” Tommy tried again. “You know me now—”

“DoI?” Philippa said with obvious skepticism. “If Baron Vanderbean trusted me enough to tell me the truth, why didn’t Tommy Wynchester do the same? It would have been a perfect moment to mention we’d already met, and how.”

“I see that now,” Tommy muttered. “It didn’t seem relevant at the time. We were talking about your parents’ desire to marry you off, and it wasn’t as though Great-Aunt Wynchester figured into those plans—”

“No,” Philippa agreed, crossing her arms over her bosom. “She certainly does not.”

Sometimes Tommy was so used to playing a part that she forgot the fiction was real to others. Her roles might be temporary, but her actions could leave a lasting impact.

“I’m telling you now,” she said frantically. “No matter how much I might wish I had, I cannot confess any sooner than this moment. I was Baron Vanderbean, and I was Great-Aunt Wynchester, but I was always Tommy, who admires you more than everyone else combined.”

Philippa swiped at her eyes, which had lost some of their glossiness.