Page 14 of The Spinster’s Stolen Heart (Willenshires #5)

Pippa played a wrong note. Cursing to herself, she tightened one of the violin strings, testing it carefully. She drew the bow across the strings and nodded to herself.

Much better.

The sun was going down, and although the day had been unusually warm, a chill was beginning to creep across the garden. Pippa had gone so far as to bring a lantern and a shawl out with her. She did not want to go inside just yet.

Instead of sitting on the terrace, where all could see her, Pippa had found a snug little corner around the side of the house. Fragrant flowerbeds and blooming hydrangeas clustered around a gazebo, and trees and shrubs with broad, green leaves provided a little shelter. There was a narrow bench inside the gazebo, and she made herself comfortable there to practice her violin.

It felt odd to play it inside, in a music room. Always, she had played in her father’s study, and then later, when they lived above the shop, she would have to go outside to a quiet place to play it, or risk annoying the shop-keepers downstairs.

“I thought I could hear you out here.”

She flinched at the voice, spinning around to find Katherine standing there. She looked tired, more so than recently, and her belly was larger than ever. Her time had to be getting close.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Katherine added, flashing a wry smile. “I couldn’t find you inside the house, and one of the servants mentioned they’d seen you come outside. I couldn’t spot you on the terrace, but then I heard the music. That’s a beautiful piece, by the way, but I’ve never heard it before. Which one is it?”

Pippa smiled shyly. “It’s my own composition. Just like the one I played at Cousin Henry’s garden party.”

She shuffled up on the bench, nervously gesturing for Katherine to sit beside her. Katherine did so, lowering herself with a wince.

“You are extremely talented, Pip,” Katherine said at last. “Your own composition? Eleanor told me that everybody was asking her afterwards what you’d played, and she couldn’t tell them. They would have complimented you on it, except that you were closeted with Lord Barwick, playing an endless game of chess. I believe some people tried to ask Aunt Bridget to pass on their compliments to you, but it rather seemed to irritate her.”

Pippa bit her lip and said nothing. Her mother had informed her that the violin was not really a ladylike instrument, and she should stick to tried-and-tested pieces, instead of her own ‘scrapings’.

“People are polite, Pippa,” Bridget had said curtly, “but you can never tell what they’re really thinking. Play a fashionable piece, and you’re sure to win smiles and applause. Play your own composition, and you’re taking a risk.”

She certainly hadn’t passed on any compliments.

Glancing up, Pippa found Katherine eyeing her closely, as if she could read her thoughts.

“Mama was never much taken with music,” Pippa said, softly. “Papa loved it, and so do I, but Mama only seems to care about me making a good marriage.”

“I sense that things are strained between you two at the moment. I don’t mean to pry,” she added hastily, “I only want to help. I’m not a fool, Pippa. It’s plain that you don’t much like Lord Barwick, yet Aunt Bridget insists on pushing you towards him anyway. It’s… it’s the kind of thing my own father would have done.”

Pippa pulled the violin close to her chest, almost hugging it like a doll.

“Were you close to your father?” she asked, in a rush.

Katherine’s face tightened in pain, and Pippa almost wished that she hadn’t spoken. It took a moment for her to respond.

“No,” Katherine said at last, “I wasn’t. He… he wasn’t the sort of man you could get close to. I hear that your father was very different?”

Pippa nodded. “He was the best father in the world. I miss him every day, still. He made Mama promise to take care of me, and to see that I could marry for love. I think perhaps she’s forgotten about that.”

Katherine was silent for a moment, considering. “I think Aunt Bridget is doing what she thinks is best for you. She’s lost sight of what matters most. But it’s up to you, Pippa, to stand up for yourself. If you don’t wish to marry Lord Barwick, you must say so.”

“I can’t. I haven’t a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” Katherine shot back. “You’re a grown woman, a clever one. You have family, friends, support. Of course you want to please your mother, and of course you love her, even when she’s being… being difficult. But this is your life. The wrong husband will make you miserable, and I think you know that already.”

There was a brief silence after that. A gentle breeze rushed around the gazebo, rustling greenery against the wooden roof.

“What sort of man is Lord Barwick?” Pippa heard herself say, voice low. “Is he very bad?”

Katherine let out a long sigh.

“He’s a well-known rake, Pip. He made a rather half-hearted attempt to convince people that he was reformed at the beginning of the Season, but nobody believes that. He’s in his cups far too often, gambles heavily, treats women with great disrespect – except his mother, of course, who has rather an unsettling hold over him – and there are a great many more stories that I won’t tell you. I would not be happy to see you marry him, Pippa. I can’t stop you, nor should I influence your decision, but neither should your mother.”

Pippa leaned back, closing her eyes. She had a headache, pounding away behind her eyes. She felt sick. The joy of her music had been drained away. Or perhaps it had never been there to begin with. How could it, with all of this weighing on her mind?

“It’s as if Mama is a different person to before,” she whispered. “It was different before Papa died. He… he tempered her, somehow. Now that he’s gone, there’s no stopping her. Sometimes I feel as though I’m in a runaway carriage, careering down the road, and I can’t stop or slow down.”

Katherine reached out, taking her hand.

“I know how it feels,” she said, voice quiet. “But you are in control. And you can do something, Pip. You can, and you must.”

A twig cracked outside, and both women jumped. A figure stepped into the doorway, and Pippa found herself sinking back into the seat, her heart dropping into the stomach.

“Here you are,” Bridget said coolly. “Hidden away. What are you two gossiping about, I wonder?”

***

Bridget paused outside the gazebo, holding her breath. She’d heard snippets of the conversation between her niece and her daughter, enough to know what they were talking about.

So, Katherine thinks to discourage Pippa from that match, eh? Bridget thought grimly. And no wonder. Pippa would marry a marquess, and she’d outrank Katherine herself.

Poor, foolish Pippa. She can’t possibly understand it.

Well, I understand it, and I intend to put a stop to this.

With a flinch, she heard Katherine speak again, her voice level and almost angry.

“I know how it feels. But you are in control. And you can do something, Pip. You can, and you must.”

It was too much, entirely too much. Bridget closed the distance, standing in the doorway. Both women flinched to see her. Pippa shrank back a little, and Bridget stared into Katherine’s face, waiting to see guilt there, and embarrassment at being caught.

She didn’t see either emotion, to her annoyance. It was infuriating, but then Katherine had always been stubborn.

“Mama, I didn’t know… you were looking for me,” Pippa gasped, flushing and clutching her violin to her chest. “I came out here to practise.”

Bridget pursed her lips. She didn’t particularly like violin music. She had never objected to Pippa learning, so long as she comprehended that when the moment arrived to apply herself diligently to the essential endeavour of securing a suitable husband, she would set aside her industrious crafting and musical compositions to concentrate on more decorous pursuits befitting a lady.

Of course, Bridget had counted on being able to rely on her husband to help manage Pippa, but Phillip was gone.

She tightened her jaw against this thought, which brought the usual wave of misery, and concentrated on the present.

“I have been looking for you,” Bridget said crisply, turning her attention to her daughter. “You know how I feel about night air, Pippa. Besides, Lord Barwick is taking us all out to the opera tonight, as you know. He is a remarkably generous man.”

This was aimed at Katherine, of course, but the wretched girl did not even blink.

“You had better start getting ready,” Bridget added, when Pippa only stayed where she was, quiet and still. “I’ve laid out a gown for you to wear. Hurry! And for heaven’s sake, leave that violin in the music room. I told you to practise your pianoforte, just in case you were asked to play. And have you done it? Of course not.”

Pippa got to her feet with a reluctance that Bridget did not like to see. Pippa paused, glancing at Katherine.

“Thank you, Kat. You’re… you’re kind. And you’ve been helpful. Thank you.”

Katherine inclined her head, and Pippa scurried off, slipping past her mother without looking her in the eye.

Bridget did not move. She was aware that she was blocking the entrance to the gazebo and wondered whether it was a little too threatening. They were, after all, staying in Katherine’s house, and if Katherine was displeased at them, she might put them out. She might even convince William to send them away. Their position was precarious, which made Pippa’s marriage even more necessary.

Katherine, however, did not seem intimidated, or nervous, or even surprised. She leaned back, lacing her fingers over her rounded belly.

“I take it you were eavesdropping, Aunt?” she asked coolly. Bridget’s eyebrows shot up towards her hairline.

“My daughter and I are most grateful for your hospitality, Katherine,” Bridget said, once she’d composed herself, “but this interference of yours must stop.”

Katherine pursed her lips. “And what interference is that?”

“I haven’t the energy to play these games with you. You know that I intend for her to marry Lord Barwick, and here you are, talking her out of it. She never disliked the man before you started to put ideas in her head.”

“On the contrary, Aunt. Pip has never liked Lord Barwick, not ever. He is not a likeable sort of man.”

“He does not need to be a likeable sort of man,” Bridget shot back. “And don’t call her Pip. Her name is Pippa. She does not like nicknames.”

Katherine slowly and carefully heaved herself to her feet. Annoyingly, she was on eye level with Bridget herself.

“No, Aunt Bridget, you do not like nicknames,” she said, voice soft but firm. “Pippa likes them. Can you really not tell what your daughter likes and does not like?”

Bridget’s temper flared. “Don’t you dare throw such accusations at me. You are the one who wants to prevent her marrying a marquess , just because you could not marry one.”

There. It was out. Bridget felt faintly shaky at her own daring. Should she have kept her mouth shut? Perhaps so.

Katherine, however, did not flinch. She did not seem angry or upset. In fact, her mouth tugged at the corner, and she seemed amused.

“I could have married a marquess if I wanted,” Katherine remarked dryly. “Many titled gentlemen liked me, Aunt. But I did not like them . I liked Timothy, and you can’t upset me by accusing me of bland jealousy. I am not jealous, Aunt Bridget. I am worried. Worried about Pippa .”

“Don’t speak to me about her as if you know her. You barely met her! She is my daughter, and I will decide what is best for her. Do you really think you have any say at all in the matter? Any say at all?”

Bridget was faintly aware that her voice was pitching higher, which of course was a bad idea. It was infuriating to have Katherine looking so coolly at her, as if she were the child having a temper tantrum, and not Katherine overstepping her bounds.

“Of course, I have no say,” Katherine responded, sounding a little amused. “Pippa is a grown woman, Aunt. She’s grown up and you never seemed to notice, I’m afraid. She loves you, and values your advice highly, but this is going entirely too far. She does not like Lord Barwick. What is more, he’s a rake.”

“He’s reformed. Reformed rakes make the best husbands, everybody knows that.”

“That’s a dubious proverb,” Katherine shot back. “And that’s even if they are reformed. Lord Barwick is not reformed, by any stretch of the imagination. I could tell you stories…”

“I don’t wish to hear any gossip, if you please,” Bridget interrupted, childishly glad to have an opportunity to take the moral high ground for once. “Lord Barwick is a perfectly suitable husband for my daughter. He’s wealthy, titled, and disinterested in fortune. He knows she’ll have no dowry, and he cares not. He’s marrying her for her own sake. What do you say to that ?”

Bridget took a step backwards, feeling a flare of triumph. Of course, Pippa was not in love with Lord Barwick, but what did that foolish girl know of love? Really, it was better to keep the heart out of the matter. Bridget had married for love, losing her head and her heart at once, and look at the mess that had gotten her into. Why could Pippa not marry a suitable man, and let love develop after ? Phillip would understand that, if he were here.

But he’s not here. I’m here, and this is my responsibility.

“Have you considered, Aunt, that Lord Barwick believes that William will give something to Pip?” Katherine said, choosing her words with care. “It’s a fair assumption. The Willenshires are an ancient and powerful family, and we all have a great deal of money. He might assume that William will settle his debts and provide a dowry.”

“Why should he assume that?” Bridget demanded, piqued.

Katherine sighed. Suddenly, she looked tired. The sun was almost gone, casting long shadows and throwing the inside of the gazebo into gloom.

“Because that is what families do, Aunt. And men like Lord Barwick know it.”

For a moment, Bridget wavered a little. Could she have miscalculated?

No, no, of course not. It’s jealousy. No doubt Katherine has her own candidate for Pippa and is upset that Pippa is more likely to obey me rather than her own cousin.

She took a step forward, meeting Katherine’s eye squarely.

“I’ll say this once, and only once, niece. We are grateful for your help, but we are family, after all. I am Pippa’s mother, and she is my daughter, and your relationship with her cannot and will not come between us. Her duty is to me. Her obedience belongs to me. I am her mother, and I know what is best for her. And what is best for her, quite simply, is a man like Lord Barwick. A marquess. If I could get her a duke, I would. And you, Katherine, are not to come between us. I will not tolerate that, do you understand? You don’t contradict my instructions or fill Pippa’s head with nonsense when my back is turned. I know what I am doing. Do you understand, Katherine?”

Katherine met her gaze but said nothing.

“I shall take that as a yes,” Bridget muttered. Turning on her heel, she strode back towards the house. She didn’t look around, not even once.

I know what I’m doing.