Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway

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, was the P. 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.”

The love and understanding in her mother’s eyes heated Pippa’s own.

“Papa doesn’t mean it, you know,” Mama went on. “Well, that’s not precisely true. He does mean what he says about Longmere, but he doesn’t mean to hurt you, my dear. He loves you.”

“I know.” Pippa’s voice trembled; she loved her father too.

“The thought of everything you’ve gone through drives Papa mad. You waited years for Longmere to come up to scratch. After you wed, you seemed changed. Not like the happy, carefree girl we knew. And knowing how Longmere...how things ended, Papa and I are concerned about you.”

Pippa appreciated her mother’s tact. Although her parents didn’t know the full extent of Edwin’s sins, they were aware that he’d died because of his drug use. Her humiliation deepened; not only had she made a terrible choice, but she had also caused her parents to worry.

“I know it’s no excuse for Papa’s ranting and raving”—Mama cast her eyes heavenward—“but he can’t help himself. He feels like he failed to protect you. He is angrier at himself than Longmere, truth be told. But the stubborn man can’t let the anger go, even though it has caused a rift between the two of you. Losing you is eating him up inside.”

A tear escaped, sliding down Pippa’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Do stop apologizing, my darling,” Mama murmured, passing her a handkerchief. “I just wanted to explain why your papa has been acting the way he has. None of this is your fault—”

“It is,” Pippa blurted. “All of it is my fault.”

Mama shook her head so vehemently that a violet fell, twirling onto the Aubusson. “You cannot blame yourself for falling in love—”

“I don’t know if what I felt for Longmere was love.”

The instant the words left her, Pippa felt shock…and stunning relief. While shame slithered in the wake of her confession, the tension that had been gnawing at her for months eased. She’d finally voiced the awful truth: she now doubted her feelings for Edwin. And while she did mourn him, she was also…angry.

Furious, in truth, at her husband’s betrayal. The lies he’d told, the secrets he’d kept. And the way he’d treated her…it was a far cry from her experience with Cull. Even though they were having a casual liaison, Cull had shown her what it was like to have a lover who cared about her happiness and well-being. Who fed her sense of self-worth rather than starved it. Cull might keep secrets as part of his job, but he was unflinchingly honest when it came to his feelings and expectations about their relationship.

Beside her, Mama waited in silence. As if she understood Pippa needed space to sort out the tangled skeins of her feelings.

“I thought it was love at first sight,” Pippa said haltingly.

She recalled that first time she’d seen Edwin; it had been at a ball, and he’d been surrounded by admirers. Mostly female, all hanging on his every word as he expounded upon his philosophy of art. His desire to capture the true essence of life. Pippa had felt a tingle as she thought of how she, too, tried to convey the wonder of the ordinary with strokes of her paintbrush.

“And now?” her mama asked.

“I think it was just an infatuation.” Throat clogging, Pippa confronted the self-deception that had lasted through the years of courtship and marriage. “I was attracted to his artistic sensibility, his passionate way of looking at the world. So much so that I never really let myself see beyond his image. To the man he actually was.”

Mama’s face hardened. “In your defense, you were only two-and-twenty when you met him. And the one talent I will grant Longmere was his ability to convince others that his high opinion of himself was warranted.”

“But you and Papa saw through him. From the start, you did not approve…” Pippa twisted the handkerchief between her fingers, unwilling to let herself off the hook. “I would not listen, however. I insisted that you did not understand him. I defended his bad behavior toward me…toward our family.”

In retrospect, that was one of her worst sins: she had not only lost herself, but she’d also abandoned her family. She had allowed Edwin’s condescension to drive a wedge between her and the people she loved.

For several heartbeats, Mama said nothing.

“Do you know why I saw through Longmere?” she asked finally.

“Why?”

“Because I was once infatuated with a man just like him.”

“No,” Pippa breathed.

Knowing how passionately in love her parents were, she couldn’t imagine either of them having feelings for anyone else.

“Oh, yes.” Mama’s smile was rueful. “He was a titled lord and every bit as pompous as Longmere. He fancied himself a poet; the females on my side of the family must be susceptible to artistic sorts.”

“But how…you and Papa…?” Pippa couldn’t even piece the words together.

“I thought I was in love with this fellow when I met your papa.” A twinkle came into Mama’s eyes. “Your papa promptly convinced me otherwise.”

“You have never mentioned this…”

“You know how Papa gets even now when someone asks me to dance.” Mama rolled her eyes. “Trust me, he does not like to be reminded that anyone once held my affections. Not that this other fellow did. It was a silly infatuation, pure and simple. When I met your papa, I realized the difference between that and true love. One day, my dearest girl, you will find the right man as well: someone who makes you realize that you are perfect as you are.”

Her mother’s words resonated with her experience. Meeting Cull had helped her to recognize all that had been wrong in her marriage. Even if Cull wasn’t the “right man” forever—for the future that neither of them was ready to commit to—he was undoubtedly the right lover for now. No matter how long their affair lasted, she would never forget the gift he’d given her.

“Thank you, Mama.” Pippa reached for her mother’s hands. “I am so glad you came by.”

Mama returned her squeeze. “Now, there is another reason for my visit. Papa is throwing a small party in honor of my birthday in a fortnight. The only gift I want is your presence. As it will be an intimate gathering of family and a few close friends, you don’t have to worry about being there while you’re in mourning.”

How could she say no to her mama’s request? “I look forward to celebrating with you.”

Mama beamed. “It will be splendid for all of us to be together again.”

She did miss her family. “How are Garrett and Hugh?”

“Same as always.” Although Mama’s sigh was long-suffering, affection laced her words. “Besides your papa, they’re the most stubborn, hell-raising, and lovable rogues I’ve ever met.”

“Lucky for you one of your children has an easy-going temperament.”

To Pippa’s surprise, Mama laughed. “Oh, darling, you don’t mean you, do you?”

“Well, yes. I’m the patient peacemaker of the family, aren’t I?”

“And the proudest, most determined one of the bunch.” In a conspiratorial tone, Mama said, “I hate to disabuse you of your notions, Pippa dear, but you’re even more of a Hunt than your brothers. Combined.”