He opened his mouth to plead his case once more, but Philippa beat him to it. "In exchange for what?"
Kit's smile was slow, and his eyes glinted with intellect. While he loved to play the fool, no one who knew him was foolish enough to believe it.
"I am offering to be kind to someone who deserves kindness." He paused. "For a reasonable fee."
There it was.
Philippa studied her nephew. The easy grin, the charm, the casual slouch in the chair. And beneath all of it—the tension in his hands and the watchfulness in his eyes. He needed this money. She didn't know why, and it troubled her that he wouldn't say.
But she knew Kit. And she knew the good heart underneath the performance, even when he didn't.
She also knew that if she did not relent, he'd stop at nothing to find an alternative. And it was highly likely that letting him find some other, even more foolish way to get the funds was worse.
"I would need to meet her first," Philippa said.
Kit nodded. "Naturally."
"And there would be rules."
Kit scoffed. "I am very good with rules."
"You are abysmal with rules. Which is precisely why there will be many of them." She held his gaze. "This girl has been hurt, Kit. By a man who wasn't honest with her. If you agree to this, you will be kind. You will be respectful. You will not toy with her feelings for sport."
A flicker of genuine emotion darkened his blue eyes. "I would never?—"
"I know." Her voice softened. "I know you wouldn't. That's the only reason I'm considering it."
Kit held her gaze for a moment longer. Then the grin slid back into place and he clapped his hands on his knees. "Excellent. So. When do I meet this Cast-Off Clarissa?"
"Don't call her that," Thea snapped.
"Lady Clarissa," he quickly corrected. "When do I meet Lady Clarissa?"
Estella was already smiling. "How about Wednesday. You and Thea can?—"
"Not so fast," Philippa interrupted.
Everyone fell silent.
"I must meet with her first and see if she is amenable to this arrangement." Here she shot Thea a reproachful look. "Not everyone is so grateful for my patronage."
Thea smiled. But Estella nodded. "Oh, yes. You're probably right. You really ought to meet her first." She stole a look at Kit. "Er…likely alone."
"Of course alone," Philippa agreed. "No sense in throwing a lamb to the wolves until she agrees to the arrangement."
Thea and Estella nodded, but Kit turned to her with a frown. "Pardon me, but am I— Did you just call me a wolf?"
5
The princess had just escaped the tower when Clarissa ran out of ink.
She stared at the half-finished page, at the princess dangling mid-sentence from a vine that Clarissa had not yet decided would hold, and sighed. This was the trouble with writing stories for Lucy. Clarissa always got so caught up in the adventure that she forgot to plan how anyone would get out of it.
Rather like life, come to think of it.
She set the page aside to dry and reached for a fresh pot of ink, but her thoughts had already wandered from the princess's predicament to her own. She'd been in London for nearly a week. She'd attended one ball, danced with one forgettable baron, and been given a nickname she was fairly certain would outlast her.
Cast-Off Clarissa. How lovely.
