“Charlie told us what happened,” Livy said. “We wanted to see how you were.”
Setting down her brush, Pippa ran a hand through her tangled hair. She rubbed her eyes, which were puffy from weeping. Looking down at her robe, she saw splatters of paint.
“I am surviving. I think,” she said ruefully.
Fiona held up a box tied with ribbon. “I brought cakes from Gunter’s.”
Heartbreak had dulled Pippa’s appetite. But these were Gunter’s cakes.
“Did you bring the almond ones with custard and raspberry jam?” she asked.
“Given the situation,” Fiona said, “I brought two dozen.”
It was wonderful to have friends who understood. Fortified by tea and cake, Pippa haltingly told the Angels about what had happened with Cull. All of them evinced surprise.
“That seems out of character for Mr. Cullen,” Livy said. “Thus far, he’s been steadfast and a man of his word.”
“The times I’ve seen the pair of you together, he was absolutely smitten with you,” Fi declared. “I can always tell with men.”
“Perhaps something happened?” Glory suggested. “To make him change his mind?”
“I asked him about that. And his only answer was that he is the Prince of Larks. As if I wasn’t aware of the fact.” Her chest ached with bewildered pain. “I have never, not once, asked him to be anyone but who he is. I don’t care that he has responsibilities; on the contrary, I wanted to be his partner and helpmate. To build a life together. I adore the mudlarks and thought I’d found my place…” Her throat swelled, and she was suddenly close to tears again. “I was wrong.”
“I think there is something he’s not telling you.” Livy ate a forkful of cake. “A man in love doesn’t just change his mind overnight.”
“You’re probably right. But why wouldn’t he talk to me? I deserve better.”
Anger momentarily blocked out Pippa’s despair. With a sense of irony, she realized that her time with Cull had renewed her self-confidence in time for her to be utterly livid at his treatment of her. While she was heartbroken, she also knew she deserved an explanation—deservedbetterfrom him.
“Of course you do. It is Mr. Cullen’s loss,” Glory said loyally.
“Thank you.” Pippa gave her friends a watery smile. “Talking about it makes me feel less sorry for myself.”
“Actually, we have an even better distraction to offer, if you’re up for it.” Excitement sparkled in Livy’s eyes. “We’re taking a trip to Kensal Green tonight.”
“To dig up Lady Hastings’s grave?” Pippa said in surprise. “But I thought we were waiting for Hawker to return?”
“Since time is of the essence, I convinced Hadleigh to help,” Livy said. “He’s bringing his friend Mr. Chen as well.”
Pippa had met Mr. Chen, who’d helped the Angels before. Chen operated a clinic in the East End that specialized in treating opium habits, and Livy had confided that he’d been pivotal in Hadleigh’s recovery years ago. Not only was Chen a skilled healer, but he was also a master of the fighting arts, which made him a valuable addition to any mission.
“We’ve come up with a plan to deal with the guards,” Glory added.
“And I, for once, am Brambleton-free this eve.” Fiona raised her auburn brows. “So, dear Pippa, are you in?”
“She woke up earlier,” Grier said quietly. “She was in pain, so I gave ’er the tincture the physician left. She’s going to be fine.”
With a tight nod, Cull said, “That is a relief.”
Fanny had been asleep when he’d arrived and had looked improved, thank Christ. Grier had invited him into the study, and now they were in the wingchairs by the crackling hearth. Grier took a swallow of whisky as he stared into the flames, deep lines creasing his face. Cull wished the Scot would yell at him, punch him, dosomethingto him for the pain he’d caused. But Grier didn’t. And that made Cull hate himself even more.
He set down his untouched whisky. “Grier, I…I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”
Paltry, pathetic words. Yet they were all he had to give.
Grier met Cull’s gaze. “You ain’t got anything to be sorry for, lad.”
“It’s my fault Fanny was shot. If I’d just listened to you and taken care of Squibb—”
