Page 44 of Snowed In with the Jilted Duke

“Escape clause?”

“One that allows Kendal to marry you instead of Penelope. He must have decided to hedge his bets in case Penelope did not return and make sure to have you under his thumb before your father arrived.”

Acid rose in Pippa’s throat, choking her. “It’s not true.”

“Of course it is, darling.” Mother laughed, and the laugh pierced Pippa’s heart like the sharpest of icicles. “Well, I must congratulate him when I see him. He certainly was thinking several steps ahead of me.”

Mother rose from the settee and looked to where Pippa sat frozen in her chair. “Congratulations, I suppose. You shall have everything your sister left behind. Every scrap of it.”

She let herself out through the dressing room, calling for her maid as the door closed behind her.

Pippa did not know how long she sat curled in on herself, too heartsick to stir from her place. Light faded from the room as the afternoon passed, and she was vaguely aware of Sally moving about quietly to light candles and bank the fire.

She could not move. She could not face him knowing it had all been a sham. She would stay in this room forever.

A soft tap on the door, a murmured conversation, and Sally laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Miss Pippa. Your father wishes to see you in the library before supper.”

Of course he did.

Drearily, Pippa dragged herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing at her tearstained cheeks with her palms. Sally came out from the dressing room carrying a freshly pressed green silk dinner gown—one of Penny’s—and Pippa’s stomach turned.

“No! Not that one. Bring one of my own gowns. The brown one.”

“But, Miss Pippa⁠— ”

“Do as I say!”

Eyes wide, Sally went back to the dressing room and returned with the high-necked, long-sleeved, drab brown gown. The color had never flattered Pippa, but she had needed to punish herself for nearly killing her sister with her envy.

She had never imagined any torment could be worse than that, but she had been wrong. Knowing Oliver had only pretended to love her so he could keep the money was worse.

She bullied Sally into pulling her hair into a tightly braided coronet that made her scalp ache. She welcomed the pain. It was what she deserved for being such a fool.

“Done, miss.”

Pippa stared at herself in the mirror. The ashen pallor of her skin was only emphasized by the unflattering color of her gown. Dark rings under her red-rimmed eyes made her look as old and tired as she felt.

Sally tried to pat rice powder onto her cheeks, but Pippa waved her away.

She never should have pretended to be her sister. She never should have tried to steal her sister’s betrothed. She should have allowed the scandal to fall where it would and then gone home with her mother.

She deserved all of this humiliation, and more, for what she had done.

If anyone was in the corridors as she made her way to the library, she did not see them, focused only on reaching the library and playing out the final act of the farce her life had become. As she opened the door, Oliver sprang up from his seat near the fireplace, her father rising more slowly.

Oliver reached out to take her hand, but she flinched away. At her rejection, he took a step back, and she glided past him, not looking at him. She settled into the chair he had vacated, her back ramrod straight.

She would not cry.

Papa gazed at her from his chair across from her, and she could feel his disappointment and disapproval as a physical weight. “I suppose you know what we’ve called you here for.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Her father’s eyes shifted to Oliver, who had moved to stand next to her chair. “He’s willing to do the right thing by you and marry you.”

“Yes, Papa.”