Page 22 of The Spinster’s Stolen Heart (Willenshires #5)

There was no conversation during the carriage ride home, on account of Katherine and Timothy sharing the carriage with them. The taut atmosphere had made itself known, and they stayed in uneasy silence, glancing at each other.

“Your performance was a success, cousin,” Katherine said, about halfway into the journey. “Everybody said so.”

Pippa smiled faintly. She had been bombarded with compliments but couldn’t enjoy any of them.

Lord Whitmore had left at the end of the musicale, leaving his mother behind. He had business, apparently. They had stayed another hour or two before Bridget complained of a megrim, whereupon they all piled into the carriage and headed home.

Bridget had not spoken to her, not a single word. Nerves fluttered in Pippa’s stomach, making her feel sick.

She had done wrong, of course. That was clear. Spending time along with a man on a balcony was bad enough, but almost allowing him to kiss her? Laying her hand on his hand so boldly? Pippa had no idea what had come over her.

Yet, even now, the memory of it made her chest tighten, in a good way. Lord Whitmore made her feel all sorts of things when they were together, some she couldn’t even identify.

Lord Barwick, on the other hand, only ever made her feel annoyed.

What is Lord Whitmore’s name? I’ve heard it said before. Nathan , that’s it. His name is Nathan.

A tiny smile crept over Pippa’s face. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced up and saw Bridget looking at her. Her face was tight with anger, and Pippa’s smile vanished at once.

This isn’t over, not by a long shot.

On account of Bridget’s ‘megrim’, she retired upstairs immediately, summoning Pippa with her. They went to their private parlour, which was cold from not having a fire lit, and smelled faintly musty from disuse.

Bridget lit the candles, closed the door, and stood in front of it, facing her daughter. The silence was absolute.

“Well,” she said at last, voice tight. “What excuses do you have for me?”

Pippa swallowed. “I should not have been on the balcony with Lord Whitmore, Mama. And things… things went too far. It was wrong of me, I know. But nobody knows besides you, and so my reputation will be quite safe.”

She gave a bark of laughter. “What a foolish little girl you are. There were a horde of people in that ballroom. If I noticed you sneaking out and Lord Whitmore sneaking after you, why should others not have noticed? You have no idea what has been seen.”

This had not occurred to Pippa, and a cold shiver went through her.

“If my reputation is compromised,” she said, the words coming out before she had time to think about them, “then Lord Whitmore will marry me, I can vouch for it. He’s a good man.”

In a trice, Bridget had crossed the room, coming almost nose to nose with her daughter.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” she hissed. “You flirted with Lord Whitmore to get out of marrying Lord Barwick.”

“Mama, no!” Pippa blustered, swallowing thickly. “I would never do such a thing, I swear it. But you know that I care for Lord Whitmore, and I believe he cares for me. And I do not care for Lord Barwick.”

“We have been through this time and time again. Oh, Pippa, I am too tired to argue with you.” Bridget turned away, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I think I am getting a megrim after all,” she muttered.

“Mama, I didn’t mean…” Pippa began, but she was interrupted.

“Yes, indeed, you never meant for any of this to happen. I’m sure you didn’t, but it has, and now I must deal with it,” Bridget snapped. “Here is what we will do. Our aim must be to hide this incident from Lord Barwick or his wretchedly eagle-eyed mother. I do not think anybody noticed, but we must be vigilant. Lord Whitmore, I think, will not speak of it, and of course you will not. You must avoid him like the plague from now on. I won’t have Lord Barwick having any reason to retreat from an engagement.”

Pippa stood still, stunned. She felt almost as if she were in a dream.

Am I merely tilting at windmills? Why does she not listen to me? Does she not hear, or does she simply dismiss my concerns?

“I have thought long and hard about all this, Mama,” Pippa said, her voice quavering. “I cannot marry Lord Barwick. I am sorry that I cannot make you happy. If you choose to act as though I am dead, I cannot stop you, but I know that the consequences for myself will be much worse if I force myself to accept a betrothal and go through with a marriage to a man that I do not love and cannot respect.”

There was a long silence after this. Bridget turned slowly, her expression icy. Swallowing, Pippa spoke again.

“Please, Mama, don’t let this make a breach between us. We were so close, once.”

“Hear this, my girl, and listen carefully,” Bridget said, her voice calm. “If you do not oblige me in this and follow my instructions, I shall go straight to Katherine and tell her that you were kissing a gentleman on the balcony at her own brother’s soiree.”

“Katherine will….”

“Hear me out, Pippa, please. You believe that I am your enemy, I know that. You think that your cousins are your friends. They are pleasant enough, to be sure, but let me tell you this. The Willenshires have a great reputation to uphold. William is a duke, a new one, with a new duchess, and he will be treading on difficult paths for years trying to establish himself. Even the highest members of the ton live and die on public opinion, their reputations as fragile as glass. Imagine what would happen if William was known to have brought a cousin into his family with the most lax and shocking morals, creating scandal wherever she went?”

“I… I do not have lax morals ,” Pippa stammered. “Mama, I…”

“Quiet! I’ve heard enough of you and your excuses,” Bridget snapped. “You made a mistake, Pippa. We are all of us human, but there is no room in Society for mistakes. That almost-kiss on the balcony was just as damaging as if you had spent the night in a man’s house, unchaperoned. Believe me, it is. Your entire world will crumble. Nobody will have you in their houses for fear of being tainted. No young woman will be permitted to befriend you, and no man would ever dream of courting you for fear of the shame. And your cousins, of whom you are so fond? They’ll turn their backs on you, too. Nobody’s reputation is too strong to withstand contact with a fallen woman.”

There was a silence. Pippa felt as if she were falling in more ways than one.

A fallen woman. The lowest of the low. An unlucky woman who failed to measure up to the austere standards and had the misfortune to fall from her perch. There’s no getting up once one has fallen.

Bridget came forward, taking Pippa’s hands. She gave a tentative smile, looking straight into her daughter’s eyes.

“A small mistake ought not to ruin your life, Pippa. And I intend to see to it that it does not. Lord Barwick will save us, you may count on it. You must abandon hope of Lord Whitmore, do you understand?”

Pippa swallowed. “But… but why?”

Bridget sighed. “Lord Whitmore does not care for you, Pippa. I daresay he is opportunistic, and you have been obvious enough in your affection for him.”

“I think he does care for me,” Pippa pressed, and Bridget’s gaze hardened.

“He does not. If he cared for you, he would never have put you in such a position, would he?”

This was a point that Pippa could not refute. She jerked back, thinking it over, and found that there wasn’t a reply. At least, none she could think off. A headache was pounding behind her eyes, and she was feeling more and more nauseous.

“You see, my poor girl?” Bridget asked, sounding faintly pleading. “I am your only ally. Believe me, if a breach opens up between us, Katherine will throw you out in an instant. If any scandal is attached to either of us, William will send us away, and then what will we do? You must see how vulnerable we are.”

Pippa closed her eyes. She had been thinking the same thing about what would happen if a breach appeared between her and her mother. Could it be that she’d misjudged the situation? Her cousins were kind and friendly, to be sure, but how well did she really know them?

One thing was clear, however.

I’ve made the most terrible mistake. And now I must accept the consequences.

“Perhaps… perhaps you are right,” she managed at last, her voice faintly strangled.

Bridget smiled, relief creeping over her face. “Of course, I’m right, darling. I know you and I haven’t seen eye to eye on many things, but I am still your mother, and I still love you. It’ll all work out, you’ll see.”

Pippa tried to summon a smile, but it would not come.

“Now,” Bridget said, her tone turning brisk, “it’s time for you to retire, I think. You may go.”

Pippa walked out of the parlour, feeling somewhat dizzy, and stood in the hall for a moment or two, staring into space.

“Pippa? There you are.”

She flinched at Katherine’s voice, spinning around to face her.

Katherine waddled along, one hand on her swollen belly, looking concerned.

“Oh, hello, Katherine,” Pippa managed. “I am so sorry we had to come home early, but Mama was so unwell.”

“It’s quite all right,” Katherine said, smiling. “I hope she recovers. But it was you I wanted to see, Pippa. You haven’t been yourself lately, and tonight you just seemed… well, odd . And after you had such a success with your violin playing, too!”

Pippa managed a faint smile. “Thank you, cousin.”

Katherine frowned. “You are not in your usual spirits . Did something happen with Lord Whitmore?”

Pippa’s head snapped up. “What? Why him?”

Katherine chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not a fool, you know. It’s clear that you’re in love with the man. And I quite approve, you know.”

She swallowed. “It’s… it’s apparent that I love him? Do you mean that everybody knows?”

The smile dropped from her cousin’s face. “Not exactly. I only meant that since I know you rather well, I could tell that you liked him. I never saw the two of you interact tonight, though.”

“We didn’t,” Pippa responded, a little more sharply than was fair. “Excuse me, Katherine, but I really should go to bed. I’m quite tired.”

Katherine nodded slowly, and Pippa turned and began to head up the hallway. She stopped dead in her tracks when Katherine spoke again.

“If there’s something weighing on your mind, Pip, you can always talk to me about it. I give fairly good advice, and I can always be trusted to keep a confidence.”

Can you?

Oh, Pippa wanted to believe it. She wanted nothing more than to unburden herself, to tell Katherine everything, to weep on her shoulder and mourn the tattered remnants of her life.

But it was too risky, entirely too risky. Who was to know what would happen if she told Katherine the truth? And words, once spoken aloud, could never be taken back.

So, Pippa forced a smile that she did not feel and met Katherine’s eye squarely.

“There’s nothing weighing on my mind,” she said, as lightly as possible. “I’m worried about Mama’s megrim, of course, and I’m rather tired. I have the normal concerns of a woman of my age, I think. Nothing to worry yourself about, cousin. You should be resting and preparing for the baby.”

Katherine did not smile back. It was fairly clear that she was not convinced. Pippa’s cheeks ached from smiling.

“I see,” she murmured. “Well, just let me know if you would like to arrange any sort of party, and we can always invite Lord Whitmore and his mother – she’s quite delightful, you know. I would be happy to oblige you. I care about you, Pip. I want you to be happy.”

Happiness? Pippa thought, with a flare of anger. Why, that was never a choice. I was a fool to think that it was.

“Thank you,” she said aloud, quite mechanically. “That’s kind of you, but it won’t be necessary. We have a ball only tomorrow night, remember? Goodnight, Katherine.”

She turned on her heel and walked firmly along the hallway, leaving her cousin behind. Pippa’s throat burned from holding back tears. She knew that once she got back to her room, she would start to sob.

This time, Katherine did not call out after her.