Alone, Pippa waited to regain her equilibrium before going to the balustrade and peering over the edge. She watched as Cull exited the tower with his sister. He looked up; even though she couldn’t see his expression, shefelthis smile. She tingled from head to toe, and this time it wasn’t because she was afraid of falling.
5
Present
The following afternoon, Pippa arrived at the appointed time at Lady Charlotte Fayne’s gracious Mayfair residence. She looked the part of the grieving widow in her black bombazine dress with a fitted bodice and narrow sleeves, the plain skirts draped over layers of petticoats. An autumn breeze stirred her black veil as she climbed the steps, an echo of her inner tempest.
How is Charlie going to react to my actions last evening?she thought with gnawing worry.How am I going to explain Timothy Cullen’s reappearance in my life?
Pippa set aside her fretting to return the greeting of Hawker, Charlie’s butler and one of the Angels’ instructors. He was a big man with an even bigger heart, hidden beneath a gruff and rather piratical exterior. He directed her to the private chamber adjacent to Charlie’s study, where Pippa’s fellow Angels were waiting.
Lady Olivia Wodehouse, Miss Fiona Garrity, and Lady Glory Cavendish greeted her with cheery hellos. Pippa joined the ladies on the divan in the sitting area, where they were taking refreshment. Chairs were lined up along the wall that separated this chamber from Charlie’s study; through discreet viewing holes, the Angels would be able to observe Charlie at work when she brought in the next client, Lady Hastings.
A wealthy widow, Charlie maintained a spotless reputation. The world believed that her Society of Angels was a genteel charity. Only a select few knew the truth: Charlie ran an investigative agency to help women whose interests had not been served by the male establishment. For these clients, the Angels were their last hope; Pippa knew this because that was howshehad felt when she’d hired Charlie to uncover Edwin’s secret.
At the time, Pippa hadn’t known that Livy, Glory, and Fi were the inaugural members of Charlie’s covert team. Charlie simply told her clients that she had “contacts” who could find information; no one suspected that those contacts were three well-bred young ladies, which was the beauty of Charlie’s plan. Her detectives were hiding in plain sight and had access to society’s highest echelons.
Pippa had only discovered the truth when Livy found Edwin’s body. Having known Livy, Glory, and Fi for ages—the girls’ parents and Pippa’s were close friends—Pippa had been astounded by the younger women’s audacity. Her shock had gradually turned into curiosity.
Couldladies become investigators? What skills were necessary to carry out clandestine surveillance? How did one keep up the subterfuge of being a lady by day and an agent by night?
Those questions had led Pippa back to Lady Charlotte. Charlie had revealed her own story: she, herself, had once sought help from male investigators who either did not take her seriously or tried to take advantage of her. Thus, she had taken it upon herself to learn the trade of detection, and the Society of Angels represented her desire to empower future generations of ladies with her hard-won knowledge. To teach these members of the “weaker sex” to hone their physical and mental strengths...and to enable them to determine their own destinies.
Having lost her own husband at a young age, Charlie had come straight to the point with Pippa.
“Loss can either destroy one or make one stronger,”she’d said.“Which will it be for you?”
The choice had been easy. The work had given Pippa purpose and the company of friends who understood her situation in ways her other genteel acquaintances could not. Knowing what they did of the dark business that had killed Edwin—which Pippa kept under wraps to preserve his honor—Livy, Glory, and Fi had offered Pippa their unconditional support. They’d even made her an honorary member of the club they’d started back in finishing school: the “Willflowers” aptly described the ladies’ unconventional and spirited approach to life. One that Pippa now embraced.
She and the Angels helped themselves from a cart of refreshments, chatting as they awaited Charlie and Lady Hastings’s arrival.
“I cannot believe you jumped off a bridge and onto the Prince of Larks’s barge,” Livy said as she poured out the tea.
A petite brunette whose jade-green frock matched her eyes, Livy possessed an inquisitive and determined nature. Last year, she had wed her longtime crush, the Duke of Hadleigh, and two months ago, had given birth to a baby girl named Esmerelda (Esme for short). Being a new mama didn’t seem to hamper Livy’s natural exuberance; if anything, she was evenmoreenergetic. Pippa fretted about her friend overdoing things.
Luckily, Livy’s husband was as protective as he was doting. The duke supported Livy’s independent spirit, including her work with the Angels; at the same time, he kept a close eye on her. The loving acceptance between Livy and her husband filled Pippa with admiration…and regret. If her own marriage had been as intimate and free of secrets, then perhaps Edwin might be alive today.
“As I said last night, the Prince of Larks left me no choice.” Accepting the tea from Livy, Pippa took a sip of the fortifying brew. “He intruded upon my surveillance of Hastings.”
“Butwhydid he do so?” Livy pressed.
Pippa chose her words with care. “I met him briefly fourteen years ago when he recuperated from an injury at my parents’ home. His real name is Timothy Cullen, and his sister Maisie was a pupil at the Hunt Academy. After Cullen recovered, he left.” She made her shrug nonchalant. “I haven’t the faintest idea why he showed up last night and chose to make an inconvenience of himself.”
“Perhaps Mr. Cullen feels he owes your family for helping him,” Glory suggested as she helped herself to an egg and watercress sandwich.
Glory was a sporty girl with russet-brown hair, hazel eyes, and a dusting of freckles on her nose. There was a hint of her paternal Chinese heritage in her pretty features. Curled upon Glory’s shell-pink skirts was her pet ferret, Ferdinand II. Ferdinand II raised his furry white head expectantly, his dark eyes bright and pink nose twitching. When Glory gave him a bit of her sandwich, he gobbled it down.
“But why show up now?” Fiona narrowed her blue eyes. “After fourteen years?”
The morning light set Fi’s red curls aflame. She wore anà la modewhite carriage dress and matching pelisse, a gold ceinture circling her tiny waist. At nineteen, she’d already been declared an Incomparable, with suitors lining up outside her door, but she enjoyed adventure more than ballroom flirtation. Or, rather, she saw no reason not to engage in both.
“That is a good question, Fi.” Livy furrowed her brow. “And how would Mr. Cullen know you were in need of assistance, unless…has he been watching you?”
Pippa’s nape tingled at the notion. She wasn’t used to garnering male attention. Truth be told, she’d worried about keeping Edwin’s interest. In the early stages of their courtship, he’d lavished her with praise and trinkets, his attention making her feel special and loved. Once they were engaged, however, his compliments had taken on the flavor of criticism. The change had been so subtle that it had taken her months to notice.
“A fine effort, my dear,”he would say of a portrait she’d painted.“Next time, you might consider flowers or fruit as your subject. Something more suited to your feminine sensibilities.”
When it came to his own painting, he liked to use sultry redheads and brunettes for his models. He’d claimed that his work captured the “decadent drama of humanity”; as a homebody who liked domesticity, Pippa had feared she didn’t supply her husband with the excitement he seemed to crave. When she’d mustered up the courage to ask, his reply had been dismissive.
