“A rather excellent one.”
She snatched the paper from him. “Next time,youplay the bait.”
“But you’re far prettier, sweetheart.”
He nearly snickered at her fulminating stare.
With a huff, she unfolded the paper. “Sir John Forsythe-Legg. Never heard of him.”
“Me neither.” He chucked her beneath the chin. “But we’ll soon find out everything we need to know.”
20
Ashort while later, Pippa returned to her residence…alone. It had taken some willpower as she’d been sorely tempted to invite Cull in for supper. To continue discussing the case and how they should proceed with Sir Forsythe-Legg. And to continue what they’d started in the carriage on the way to Purdey’s.
Yet her rational side had intervened. They’d only started their affair, and it wouldn’t do to go too fast. To lose herself in the heady feelings that Cull inspired. She’d fallen prey to infatuation once and wouldn’t let that happen again. She would control her desires and not the other way around.
Besides, she would see Cull tomorrow night. Since she wanted to visit Ollie, Cull had invited her over to the Nest for supper. She was looking forward to being amid the merry mudlarks…and to spending time with their hot-blooded prince. Her confidence that she had made the right decision tonight was reinforced by her butler Whitby’s hushed greeting.
“Mrs. Hunt is waiting for you in the parlor, my lady. She has been here for over an hour.” The portly fellow turned red from his chin up to his balding pate. “I tried to dissuade her, but…”
“Mama can be difficult to dissuade,” Pippa said with fond exasperation.
Especially for Whitby, who Pippa suspected had a bit of a crush on her mama. Or, rather, on her mother’s nom de plume. An unexpected and avid reader of sensation novels, Whitby had nearly swooned when he learned that Pippa’s mother, Persephone Hunt, wastheP. R. Fines, author of his favorite adventure stories. Mama had given Whitby an autographed copy of her latest novel, starring his favorite heroine, and Pippa suspected he slept with it beneath his pillow.
“Please tell Cook there will be two for supper,” Pippa said.
As the butler trundled off, Pippa headed for the parlor. She peered through the cracked-open door, and warmth bloomed in her bosom. As a girl, she’d often seen Mama this way: seated at the escritoire, her sunny head bent over a notebook, scribbling madly and muttering to herself.
Pippa cleared her throat to avoid startling her parent. “Mama, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Oh, Pippa dear!” Mama blinked as if waking from a dream. An instant later, she hurried over in a swish of figured lavender satin, taking Pippa’s hands in a squeeze. “I’m sorry to drop by uninvited. But I didn’t wish to give you any excuse to avoid me. Which is why I had to resort to a sneak attack.”
Despite her mama’s teasing, Pippa felt a stab of guilt. Since the disastrous supper three months ago, she’d been evading her family. Mama was probably worried.
“I’m sorry. I have been busy,” Pippa said contritely.
She drew her mama to the blue divan, where they sat side by side.
Mama tilted her head, violets fluttering in her upswept blonde locks. “With what?”
Pippa tried not to squirm beneath the keen maternal gaze. It was like looking into a mirror. She’d inherited her coloring and looks from her mama, and strangers sometimes mistook them for sisters. Yet their personalities were different. As Papa put it, Mama was a “force of nature” who knew what she wanted and went after it. Which was saying something, since Papa also had an iron will. Pippa’s brothers, Garrett and Hugh, took after their parents, and there had been no shortage of locking horns in the Hunt household. As the peacemaker of the bunch, Pippa had felt a bit like a strangeling.
Luckily, the only thing stronger than the Hunts’ will was their love for one another. Despite the current rift with her family, Pippa never doubted her parents’ love. Yet she also felt that they—her father, in particular—did not understand her. Or, at least, her choice to marry Longmere. Being around Papa when he criticized Longmere, even though it was justified, fed Pippa’s guilt and inner turmoil until she felt she might burst from her skin.
She didn’t want to hurt her family’s feelings by avoiding them, but she also feared she might crack like an egg if she didn’t.
“I’ve been doing a lot of work with Lady Fayne’s society.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Hmm.” Mama’s eyes, a shade brighter than her own, studied her with unnerving acuity. “We could use your help at the academy as well, you know. You were always a favorite with the children.”
“I miss them,” she said honestly.
She’d loved working with the youngsters. But Edwin hadn’t approved of her dedication to the foundlings, and she’d gradually abandoned that work for him. It was another piece of herself that she’d sacrificed for her marriage. That she’d sold off far too cheaply.
Pippa swallowed her shame. “I’ve found my work with Lady Fayne to be quite rewarding as well.”
“It is important that you carve your own path.” Straightening her shoulders, Mama said, “Although I would hope it doesn’t take you too far away from your family. We miss you, Pippa, and would like to see you more often.”
