Page 10 of The Spinster’s Stolen Heart (Willenshires #5)

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, close the curtains!” Bridget moaned, dramatically swinging her forearm over her eyes. “I feel as though my head is splitting in two.”

Pippa stood at the bottom of her mother’s bed, faintly baffled. Bridget never complained of headaches, and was not prone to megrims, certainly not anything as debilitating as this one seemed to be. At first, Pippa had thought that the anxiety of their travels and reintroduction into Society might be the cause. She had also considered that perhaps her mother had drunk a little too much champagne the night before.

Neither option seemed particularly likely.

“You never have megrims, Mama,” Pippa spoke up, hurrying to close the tiny gap in the bedroom curtains. “I shall ask Cousin Kat to summon the physician.”

“Certainly not,” Bridget snapped, sounding a little more like her old self. “I’ll just rest today, that’s all. What a pity. I was so looking forward to a morning with Katherine.”

Pippa carefully said nothing. It was plain during their stay at Katherine and Timothy’s house that Bridget did not much care for her niece and certainly disapproved of Katherine’s choice of husband. Such sentiments could not be shared, of course, but Pippa lived in fear of her mother saying something inappropriate. It was as if she saw herself as a rich viscountess once more, or even a duke’s daughter, free to say and do as she liked.

Bridget was clever enough to understand this too and had therefore kept her mouth closed until now. Perhaps that was where the invention of the megrim had come from.

“You always told me that a headache or a megrim or a little trifling cold ought not to stop me from doing anything,” Pippa found herself saying, unable to control her mischief.

Bridget sniffed. “I don’t recall saying that.”

“I recall it, Mama. You said, the day of Lord Everington’s ball, that I was going whether I liked it or not, headache or no headache. In fact, you said that megrims were the plague of a weak-willed woman.”

Bridget shifted in bed, adjusting her head against the pillow.

“I have no memory of such a conversation, and even if I had, this is an entirely different situation. Now, are you going to make my apologies to Katherine or not?”

Biting back a smile, Pippa bobbed a neat curtsey. Bridget watched her through narrowed eyes.

“Of course, Mama. I shall go at once.”

***

Lavinia and Katherine were already in the downstairs parlour, with tea-things laid out on a low table. They glanced up at Pippa as she entered, smiling.

“There you are, Pip,” Katherine remarked. “Here’s some tea for you, and you must try these cakes. I must say, I am disappointed that Aunt Bridget cannot join us. I had no clue she was so prone to megrims.”

Nor did I, Pippa thought, taking her seat and accepting the cup of tea. Katherine had taken to calling her Pip , as a nickname, and Pippa secretly liked it very much. Bridget, of course, disliked the nickname and thought it common.

“She sends her regrets,” she answered, although Bridget had not actually done anything of the sort. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“One’s health must come first,” Katherine affirmed, leaning back in her seat, hand drifting over her rounded belly. “Or so Timothy reminds me every day. He’s quite nervous about the birth of this baby, poor thing. More nervous than I am, I think.”

Lavinia chuckled. “I do worry about the state William will find himself in when I am with child. You know how he worries, Kat.”

Katherine snorted. “You do not have to remind me. Pippa, you are lucky indeed to be an only child. Siblings are nothing but a headache.”

Pippa couldn’t quite make herself smile at that.

“Perhaps,” she conceded, “but I always wished for a brother or sister. Just one, you know. Besides, if I had had a brother, our lives would have been much different.”

There was a brief silence at that, and Pippa wished she hadn’t spoken. Perhaps it was vulgar to allude to how low she and her mother had fallen. Perhaps it was simply not the custom to articulate the obvious: that had Pippa been a boy or possessed a brother, he would presently hold the title of Viscount, and their destinies would have diverged entirely.

At the very least, debts or no debts, they would not have been turned out of their home so unceremoniously.

She cleared her throat, setting down the teacup.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Pippa murmured. “I’m so little used to Society, I’m forever saying the wrong thing.”

Lavinia and Katherine exchanged glances. Lavinia leaned forward, taking Pippa’s hand.

“Do not apologise for honesty,” she told her firmly. “Society would have us all demur and bluff and dance around the truth to our heart’s content, making liars out of us all. You should be proud of your frankness.”

“Lavinia is right,” Katherine confirmed. “Besides – and I didn’t want to tell you this, in case you got a little too vain – but you are being talked about a good deal in Society at the moment.”

Pippa gulped. “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

The women laughed.

“It is both,” Katherine conceded. “But you are generally well-liked, Pip. Your manners are good, honest and forthright, with no coyness or affectation. You are pretty, you are pleasant, intelligent, and rather charming. Of course, you have no fortune, which is a mark against you, but really, that only serves to deter the less eligible gentlemen. You don’t want to be sought after by fortune-hunters, do you?”

Pippa paled. “ Fortune-hunters ?”

Lavinia nodded seriously. “That is why – against your mother’s wishes – we have put about that you have no dowry and no fortune, and are not likely to get anything from William or I. Sometimes, fortune-hunters marry women who are not as rich as they thought. It never ends well.”

She found herself envisioning marriage to a man who was one of these fortune-hunters , a man who had imagined her to be a rich woman. She imagined his rage and fury against her once he discovered the truth and shuddered.

Katherine shot Lavinia a reproving look and laid a hand on Pippa’s shoulder.

“Don’t scare her, Lavinia! Pip, you must not fret. We won’t let you marry a man like that. Men of good quality generally have fortunes of their own. So long as you don’t have your eye on a duke or something like that, I imagine you can make quite a good match.”

Pippa smiled faintly. “I see. Thank you, Kat. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“You don’t,” Lavinia said firmly. “And don’t worry so much about ingratitude.”

Katherine leaned back again, eyeing Pippa narrowly.

“You do want to be married, don’t you, Pip?”

“Of course. Naturally, I want a husband.”

“There is nothing natural about it,” Katherine said firmly. “Not all women are inclined towards marriage, just like not all men are. If you don’t wish to marry, Pip, now is the time to tell us.”

“I am not opposed to the idea,” Pippa answered carefully, “Although I did always rather want to marry for love. I know that isn’t practical, but…”

“Not practical?” Lavinia laughed. “ I married for love, and I have secured a duke.”

Katherine chuckled, elbowing her sister-in-law.

“Careful, Lavinia. That’s my brother you’re talking about, there. However, she is right, Pip. I married for love, too. All three of my brothers did, as well.”

Pippa cleared her throat. “I’m happy for you, really. But I just don’t believe I am lucky enough, or pretty enough, or rich enough, to have those choices.”

“I was not rich,” Lavinia remarked quietly.

“Nor was Timothy, but I loved him all the same,” Katherine added. “The thing is, Pip, marrying for love is not really a matter of luck, or beauty, or wealth. It is about integrity , about knowing what you are searching for and not resting until you find it. And integrity is something I believe that you have in abundance.” She paused, tilting her head to one side. “Mayhap a little luck won’t hurt, though.”

Pippa had to laugh at that. The conversation drifted away from men and marriage to more mundane matters. She sat back in her seat, sipping tea, and letting her thoughts drift.

They made it sound so easy – marrying for love and no other reason. It couldn’t possibly be so simple.

Certainly not with Mama around, Pippa thought, barely suppressing a sigh.

For the first time, though, she felt as though she had someone else to discuss the matter with. Before, there was of course only Mama. Others would listen politely if she insisted on speaking of such matters, quietly praying for her to stop talking and likely resolving to speak to Bridget about it all.

But Lavinia and Katherine were different. They were family . They cared.

It felt right .

I’m glad we came here, Pippa thought. I feel almost safe here.

A tap on the door jerked them out of their conversation. The door opened, admitting the butler.

“A Lord Barwick has called for Miss Randall,” the butler said, addressing himself to Katherine but glancing briefly over at Pippa. “Shall I tell him you are not at home?”

Pippa swallowed thickly. The infamous excuse – the family is not at home . She and Bridget had heard it over and over again in the weeks following the viscount’s funeral, when they most needed help from their friends.

It turned out that they had fewer friends than they thought.

Katherine and Lavinia exchanged surprised looks. Katherine glanced over at Pippa.

“Well, Pip, do you want to see him?”

She hesitated. The simple answer, of course, was no . She did not. But word would undoubtedly get back to her mother that the marquess had visited, and been subsequently turned away, and then she would fly into a rage. It was not really worth it, then.

“Of course,” Pippa managed, not able to sound too convincing. “But you won’t leave me alone with him, will you?”

Lavinia snorted. “Certainly not .”

“Show him in, then,” Katherine said, addressing the butler. The man bowed and withdrew, leaving an uneasy silence behind.

“He’s paying her calls, then,” Lavinia murmured, glancing over at Pippa. “He is making his interest known.”

“A marquess is not a terrible match,” Katherine sighed, shooting quick little looks at Pippa. “If she likes him, that is.”

It wasn’t a question, and so Pippa did not bother to answer.

A few minutes reprieve was all they got. Footsteps echoed along the hall, and the butler reappeared, followed by a familiar, smiling figure.

“Ladies, Your Grace, good day to you,” Lord Barwick remarked, his quick gaze flicking through the room. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see Lavinia in there, or even Katherine.

It’s her house, Pippa thought, with a sudden flare of anger. She swallowed it down, however, getting to her feet and exchanging pleasantries.

“What a surprise, Lord Barwick,” Katherine said smoothly. “I’ll ring for more tea. Please, sit.”

“I hope my unannounced visit is not too much of a disruption,” Lord Barwick answered, taking a seat and stretching out his legs complacently. “But I simply had to call on Miss Randall here. Tell me, is your dear mother around, Miss Randall?”

Pippa cleared her throat, shifting a little. It had not occurred to her just how much of an imposition Lord Barwick’s visit was . It was not visiting hours, he was not a close family friend or family member, and he was unannounced.

In short, he should not have come. She glanced over at Katherine and Lavinia, whose cool, serene faces revealed nothing.

“She has a megrim,” Pippa managed. She knew then that her mother had not known about Lord Barwick’s visit. If she had, she would never have stayed upstairs with a megrim or a headache.

So, his visit truly was unexpected then. Pippa shifted again, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

I wish Mama was here, she thought, and then, Goodness. I don’t think I’ve wished that in a very long time.

“I understand I shall see you at Lord Henry’s garden party tomorrow,” Lord Barwick said, looking around. “Generally, I find outdoor parties something of a bore, but I shall be sure to attend.”

Pippa blushed at his bluntness, not daring to glance over at Katherine. This was her brother he was talking about! Lord Barwick didn’t seem to notice, or to care.

“I’m sure it will be a fine event,” she heard herself saying. “I am quite excited.”

He threw her a good-humoured smile. “What an open-hearted little thing you are, Miss Randall. Tell me, do you play the pianoforte?”

“I… Yes, I do. I believe your mother asked me this question recently,” Pippa said, finding herself floundering. “You were there. Don’t you recall?”

Lord Barwick blinked, momentarily taken aback. “I cannot recall. But no matter. You must play for me sometime, Miss Randall.”

It was not a question, but rather a statement. Pippa was beginning to feel truly embarrassed. Katherine and Lavinia had not said anything, and she could almost feel the waves of disapproval headed towards Lord Barwick. He had not noticed, and she had a feeling that if he did notice, he would not care.

“I don’t play the pianoforte much, and never in public,” Pippa found herself saying, meeting his eye squarely. “I learned it because ladies are meant to, you see, but I prefer the violin.”

Lord Barwick lifted his eyebrows. “But you’ll play to oblige me, I’m sure?”

“I’m afraid I must respectfully decline your request, Lord Barwick.”

There was a brief silence after that. Lord Barwick blinked, as if struggling to get his head round it all. Out of the corner of her eye, Pippa saw Lavinia hide a smile behind her hand.

“I see,” he said at last, voice more clipped than before. “What a disappointment, to be sure.”

“Will you be staying for luncheon, Lord Barwick?” Katherine asked smoothly, and this time there was ice in her voice. He looked at her properly for the first time and pursed his lips.

“No,” he answered at last, perhaps finally understanding that he was not as welcome as he had assumed. “In fact, I think I should be getting along.”

Lord Barwick left rather quickly after that, leaving a silence behind him. Katherine cleared her throat and spoke first.

“I don’t like him,” she said, addressing herself to nobody in particular. “It is not my concern, of course, but I do not like him, Pip.”

Pippa swallowed, nodding silently. “My mother likes him as a match for me.”

Katherine said nothing to that. Really, there was nothing to say.”

I don’t like him either, Pippa thought. But what am I to do?

You must do something , chimed in a little voice at the back of her mind. Do something soon, or else you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.