Portrait of a Lady Dreamingblazed in her mind’s eye. The woman’s beautiful face and the desperate longing beneath. Symbols of Pippa’s failure. Yet she was starting to see that she was not to blame for all the problems in her marriage. That she wasn’t quite as…as broken as she’d believed.
“I’m far from perfect,” she said tautly. “But one thing that I thought was wrong with me, that wasn’t functioning the way I’d imagined it should…” She struggled to find the right phrasing. “With you, it, um, did. Everything appears to be in working order.”
His eyes widened, his surprise evident despite his mask. “You mean you never…”
She couldn’t admit aloud that she’d never found satisfaction with her husband.
“Pippa, I—”
Whatever Cull was about to say was cut off by a moan from the bed.
Pippa’s gaze flew to Ollie. The boy’s lashes were fluttering.
“Ollie?” With pounding hope, she leaned over the bed. “Wake up, dear. You can do it.”
Cull was already on the other side. “Open your eyes. There’s a lad.”
The boy lifted his lashes; his hazel eyes gradually focused.
“Thank Christ.” Cull’s voice was thick with emotion. “You had us worried there, Ollie.”
The boy blinked at him, then at Pippa.
“Who’s Ollie?” the boy croaked. “Where am I?”
13
Pippa surfaced groggily from sleep. It took her a moment to realize that she was in her bedchamber. A gentle rapping at the door had awakened her.
“Come in,” she said, yawning.
Suzette, her lady’s maid, entered. “You asked that I wake you at eight o’clock, my lady.”
“It’s eight already?” Pippa said in surprise.
Her sleep must have been deeper than usual…no doubt because she’d stayed past midnight at the Nest, keeping Ollie company. The poor dear couldn’t recall anything, not even his name; he’d been so frightened and lost. Luckily, Dr. Abernathy had come, and after a thorough examination, concluded that no permanent damage had been done. He didn’t know when Ollie’s memory would return and prescribed rest and calm as the best medicine.
Pippa recalled her relief—and that of Cull, who’d been standing there, shoulders taut, clearly braced for the worst. His throat had bobbed. Then he’d blinked and shoved his hands in his pockets, uttering a gruff thanks to the doctor. At that moment, Pippa had glimpsed the boy inside the powerful man’s body. The lad she’d kissed in the tower. And she’d felt that same, inexorable pull toward him that fourteen years hadn’t lessened.
“Shall I help you dress, my lady?” Suzette inquired.
Pushing aside the coverlet, Pippa got out of bed. “Yes. And please tell the driver to ready the carriage. I am headed over to the Duchess of Hadleigh’s.”
After she’d told Charlie about seeing Julianna Hastings at The Enchanted Rose the night before her death, Charlie had agreed that that could be an important clue. She’d arranged for Pippa to meet with Mrs. Loverly this morning, and Livy had offered to come along.
Arriving at the Hadleighs’ Palladian mansion in Mayfair, Pippa was ushered into the drawing room, where a pacing Livy placed a finger over her lips, whispering,“Shh.”
The greeting was understandable as Livy’s infant daughter Esmerelda was sleeping on her shoulder. Pippa went over, taking in the tiny miracle with rosebud lips and wispy dark hair. She felt a thrum of longing for another piece of her old dream that had failed to come true.
“Esme was up all night, and I just got her to sleep,” Livy said in a hush. “Once I put her down, we can leave.”
Unlike most ladies of her station, Livy did not relegate Esme’s care to staff. While Esme had a nursemaid, Livy liked to be hands-on with her child, a tradition passed onto her by her mother. Pippa’s own mama had also taken an active role in raising the Hunt brood; if Pippa were ever blessed with a child, she would be the same way.
An unbidden image flashed of Cull tucking Teddy beneath his arm. His affection toward the larks was unmistakable.What kind of a father would he be…?
She shoved aside the thought, murmuring, “Esme is so beautiful. She has your looks, Livy.”
As if sensing the compliment, Esme made a cooing sound. Pippa held her breath, praying the babe wouldn’t wake. Esme’s lashes fanned up, unfocused green eyes blinking. Her lips puckered, and she let out a demanding wail.
