Yours,
Kitten (The Chemist)
The carriage rolled up to Bennett House, the muted sun trying to peek out from behind the clouds. Things were vastly different for Pippa from that desperate night when she knocked on Chauncey’s door. She was no longer the scared woman she had been that night, but new nerves assaulted her as she stepped out of the carriage.
Clutching Newt in her arms, she greeted the small group of servants before they dispersed. Pippa’s eyes drifted to her former home, and she wanted to rush over to her aunt and her laboratory. Her fingers twitched with the need to create, to be in her own space after a fortnight away. Pippa knew who she was in the comforts of her laboratory. The familiar scents that lingered in the air were a soothing balm for her.
Pippa wearily gazed around, noting how deserted the once-vibrant street was. It was strange seeing Mayfair so empty, which was often the case after the Season was over and most of thetonreturned to their country estates. Only a scant number of nobles lingered outside in the cool late-August weather.
Turning to face her new home, she took a deep breath. The massive townhouse had sat sentry to her much-smaller home for decades. Now, she was its duchess. How strange that only weeks ago Pippa had been determined to live on her own as her own woman. Now, everything had changed.
The butler, Turner, bowed before he turned to Pippa. “Welcome, Your Grace. I am at your service.”
A swarm of butterflies danced in her abdomen at being addressed asYour Grace. Though it had happened often since Gretna Green, hearing it from the butler of Bennett House made it more official. She was the Duchess of St. Clara, now and always. “Thank you, Turner. You are most kind.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Turning to face Chauncey, the butler clasped his long fingers together.
“Have all the arrangements been made?” her husband asked, and Pippa couldn’t help but wonder what arrangements her husband was referring to.
“Yes, all have been completed as instructed.” Turner swallowed, following as Chauncey began leading Pippa toward the ominous home.
“Pippa!” Her aunt’s voice rang out through the quiet day.
Joy speared through Pippa at the site of her plump little aunt moving swiftly toward her, running the distance between their two homes. Releasing her husband, Pippa rushed to her, meeting her halfway.
She thought nothing of squeezing the motherlike figure to her, not caring if it went against society etiquette. She had seenher mother’s twin every day of her life, and never had they gone an entire fortnight without seeing each other.
“My dear girl, I’ve missed you terribly. I’ve had the servants looking out for any signs of St. Clara’s carriage. I came posthaste.” Her aunt rambled on, holding Pippa at arm’s length so she could look her over. “Come, you must tell me everything.”
Her aunt began pulling Pippa and Newt away, not sparing Chauncey a glance. Pippa looked back at her husband to find him smirking at her.
“Go visit with Lady Wayford. I will come retrieve you and Newton later.” He gave her a soft smile, nodding toward her aunt’s home.
Pippa knew there were things she still needed to discuss with her husband, words that were left unsaid in the carriage before they arrived at the orphanage. She wanted to confess, to open her heart to him and give their love a chance.
Being pulled into her old home by her aunt, she was immediately comforted by the familiar smells wafting through the air. Her aunt loved fresh flowers and made sure that the house was full of them daily. The combined smells of roses, lilies, tulips, orchids, and daffodils assaulted her, reminding her of home. Perhaps she would fill Bennett House with flowers.
Her aunt took Newt from Pippa, holding him up to rub their noses together. “My boy, how I’ve missed you. Did you behave for the duke?”
Pippa laughed, remembering St. Clara’s and Newt’s constant turmoil the entire journey. “I believe they have reached an agreement.”
Ann, a friendly maid with jet black hair and kind eyes, came bustling over to Pippa. “Miss, is it true?” Ann had worked for the family for years, ever since she was just a girl. In some regard, she and Pippa had grown up together. “You married the Duke of St. Clara?”
“Ann, you look well.” Pippa reached out, grasping the maid’s hand. “Yes, it is true.” She looked up to find that other servants had joined to greet her.
“I couldn’t believe it miss, after all these years. It’s a true love match.” Ann sighed dreamily, reminding Pippa of both Agnes and Bonnie.
Love.
Pippa had been fighting with that one word for days … love. She loved him; there was no denying it. Even as a young girl, their connection had been prominent and overwhelming, and now, she knew it was love.
A powerful, all-encompassing love.
Like Chauncey, her aunt had a small staff, one that was more like family than anything. The small crowd that had gathered congratulated her with smiles and well wishes before her aunt pulled Pippa into her parlor.
The parlor was personally decorated in soft yellow with touches of blue, her aunt’s favorite colors. Pippa preferred the much-smaller space to the large drawing room where they received guests. Her aunt’s parlor was where they spent most of their time conversing, entertaining, and reading.
Suddenly she found herself in another motherly embrace, one much longer than their brief interlude outside. Squeezing the woman tight, she breathed in her fresh and familiar scent of lavender and rose water. It was a combination her aunt had loved for years that Pippa had created by adding a splash of lemon zest. It was subtle but strong.
