“Do you not fear him?” Pippa asked, lowering her voice as the governesses and children drew nearer.
She pondered that. “I do not fear he would do me physical harm. I do, however, worry over what might happen if he carries out his threat. Lord Edwin would be eager for any means by which he could seize the title. There is much at stake.”
“There is also your happiness and your heart, dear friend.” Pippa was frowning at her. “What do you want? You are an independent woman of means, and you have known your freedom for scarcely any time.”
Whatdidshe want?
In the maelstrom which had swirled around her following the sudden appearance of Mr. Adrian Hastings in her ballroom, she had not stopped to so much as contemplate it. But her friend was ever the voice of reason. Tilly was heartily glad Pippa had paid her a call today.
“I do not know what I want,” she said. “If he had not lied to me, I would have no question. I would marry him. I would have married him yesterday.”
“You are still in love with him.”
“Very much so. I have to believe some part of the man I fell in love with remains. I cannot believe that everything we shared was a sham.”
The confession was an easy one. Her initial shock and confusion had given way to some clarity. She could not simply change her heart within the span of days. She could not shake the feeling there was so much more to the story. There was no denying he had suffered in prison. The shock of realizing what had happened to him had yet to flee her. She was not sure it ever would.
“Oh, Tilly. What shall you do?”
“He is expecting my answer this evening.” And she was still not certain what she would tell him.
Yes? No?
Yessaid her heart.
Nocried her mind.
“I do not like to think of how this man deceived you,” Pippa said, sipping at her tea. “Nor do I like how he is pressuring you to make a lifelong decision with such haste, particularly given how much he has to gain and how much you stand to lose.”
“I think of that,” she conceded. “I think of how terrible my marriage with Longleigh was, how hopeless and loveless. I do not wish to revisit such misery upon myself.”
“Nor should you.” The angles of her friend’s face were drawn taut with concern. “And I very much fear you shall find yourself in the same place once more, should you give in to the demands of Mr. Hastings.”
Mr. Hastings.Still so strange to think of him by that name. She would require time, she knew, to become adjusted to the notion of his true identity. To this new man, this stranger, who had invaded her life much as he had the day he had arrived at Coddington Hall.
“If the man I knew still remains within him, then I want him to be a part of Robby’s life,” she said, staring down into her half-empty cup of tea as if it would provide her all the answers of the future. “I want my son to know his father. And Robin—Mr. Hastings—lost a child before, with his previous wife. How can I justify keeping Robby from him now?”
“You must ask him for more time to make your decision.” Pippa shook her head, the brunette curls framing her face bobbing in her agitation. “It has been but a matter of days.”
“I am not certain he will bend.” And that bothered her, too. There was a palpable difference in him, beyond the name, which she could not deny. “Prison has changed him. From what little he described, it sounded hellish, Pippa. I do not see how a man can be imprisoned in such conditions without becoming cold.”
She could not fathom what had happened.
He still did not believe that she had not been a part of what had happened to him, that she had not colluded with Longleigh. She was not certain if she could ever change his mind. Whether or not he would ever be able to forgive what he perceived as her culpability.
A small bird flew overhead, chirping as it flew, much to the delight of Robby and Charlotte, who clapped their hands and giggled. The innocence of that laughter, their sweet smiles, filled her heart with love and…hope.
Poor Charlotte’s father was forever lost to her. Pippa’s husband had contracted an illness, and it had claimed him swiftly. Pippa had been left shattered and heartbroken.
But Robby’s father was here in London. Very much alive. How could she keep them apart?
“You want your son to have his father,” Pippa said, as if she had heard Tilly’s thoughts. “I cannot find fault with you for that. If I were in your place, and it was George who had returned to me, I would not be capable of denying him. When he died, my heart went with him.”
Tilly’s own heart gave a pang at her dear friend’s pain and grief. “I am so sorry, Pippa. You must think me the most fortunate woman in the world. The man I love has been restored to me as if by magic. And yet…”
“And yet, he is not the man he once was, and you do not dare trust the man he has become,” Pippa guessed.
Correctly.
