Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway
31
“Papa won’t do anything rash, will he?” Pippa fretted.
“Stop pacing, my darling,” Mama said. “Come sit with me.”
Pippa went to join her mother, who handed her a cup of tea.
“Drink this. It will calm your nerves,” Mama advised.
“How can I be calm when Papa and Cull have been locked in the parlor for half an hour?” Pippa wailed.
After the disastrous encounter in the kitchen, Pippa and Cull had rushed off to change. Then Papa and Cull had gone into the parlor to “talk man-to-man” while Pippa and Mama waited in the kitchen.
“If they were coming to blows, we would have heard it by now,” Mama said blithely. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Not worry? But you know how Papa is! He is overprotective—”
“Which is why he will exercise restraint when it comes to your…ahem, gentleman. Give Papa some credit, dear. He won’t hurt anyone he knows is important to you.” Mama paused. “And I gather Mr. Cullen is important?”
Pippa bit her lip. “He is.”
“And you are happy?”
“Yes. Very,” she admitted.
“Then all will be well.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because I fell in love with a rough-and-ready fellow rather like your young man”—Mama’s eyes twinkled—“and look how splendidly that turned out.”
Pippa couldn’t help but laugh. “You are a hopeless romantic, Mama.”
“Love made me that way. And it is my hope, my dearest girl, that it will do the same for you.” Mama patted her hand. “Now tell me how you and Mr. Cullen met up again.”
Pippa hesitated. While she wanted to confide in her mother, she couldn’t betray the vow of secrecy she’d made when joining the Angels. It was a balancing act that all the Angels had to manage.
“I found myself in a spot of trouble, and he assisted me,” she said truthfully.
“What sort of trouble?” Mama’s forehead creased. “If you need help, Pippa—”
“No, I’m fine. I was helping…a friend. Through Lady Fayne’s charity.”
“Oh.” Looking relieved, Mama said, “Well, I am glad you’ve found a positive outlet for your energies. You are far too young to be moping about.”
“I’ve been in mourning, not moping,” she said wryly.
“As far as I am concerned, Longmere has taken up enough of your time,” her mother declared. “Even if you cannot re-enter Society yet, it’s time you rejoined the family. That is why Papa and I came today: to remind you that my birthday party is in three days. Since it will be an intimate affair, you may bring Mr. Cullen.”
Pippa wondered if Cull was ready for a night with her family. “I don’t know, Mama…”
“Would Mr. Cullen prefer not to socialize with us?”
Hearing her mother’s tone cool, Pippa felt a guilty twinge. Edwin’s snobbery toward her family had been inexcusable. She’d vowed not to get involved with someone who didn’t respect the people she loved—and, by extension, her—again.
“It is not that,” she said. “But Cull and I are just getting to know one another—”
“You had obviously spent the night together when Papa and I arrived. How much better acquainted must the two of you be before he meets the family?” Mama inquired. “His intentions are honorable, are they not?”
Pippa’s face flamed. “Well, um, yes. I think.”
“You think?” Mama frowned.
“We haven’t gotten around to discussing the specifics. I’m still in mourning, after all—”
“What goes on in public is one thing, in private another. I consider myself a modern woman, Pippa, and I respect your freedom as a widow. But I must know that Mr. Cullen treats you with respect.”
“He does,” she said hurriedly.
“Then it is decided. He will come to my birthday celebration,” her mother said in a tone that showed why she held her own in the Hunt household.
Just then, Papa strode into the kitchen with Cull. Pippa was relieved to see them both looking unscathed. When she widened her eyes at Cull, his response was a twitching of his lips.
“Would either of you gentlemen like tea?” Mama reached for the teapot.
“No thank you, buttercup. Cullen and I had something stronger,” Papa said.
Mama arched her brows. “But it is not yet ten o’clock in the morning.”
“Couldn’t be helped, given what we had to discuss.”
Papa looked at Pippa, and she tried not to quaver. Even though she was a grown woman and a widow, she still felt like a girl in her father’s presence. Still felt the weight of his disappointment. Nonetheless, while her father had been right about Longmere, it wasn’t about right or wrong, was it? She’d made a mistake and borne the consequences. What she wanted now was for her papa to trust her judgment…especially when it came to her choice for a new mate.
She prayed that Papa would not take a dislike to Cull the way he had to Edwin.
“What were you discussing, Papa?” she managed.
“Mama’s birthday party,” Papa replied. “Cullen, here, will grace us with his presence.”
To Pippa’s astonishment, Papa clapped Cull on the shoulder. Granted, it was with enough force to knock most men off their feet, but Cull didn’t budge. Papa’s gaze glinted with approval.
“Can’t afford to tarry, buttercup,” Papa said to Mama. “We have that event at the academy.”
“What event?” Mama’s eyes rounded. “Oh, right. That event.”
She rose, taking the arm Papa gallantly offered her.
“We’ll see ourselves out,” Mama said brightly. “Lovely to see you again, Mr. Cullen.”
Cull bowed. “The pleasure was mine, Mrs. Hunt.”
Papa halted beside Cull. He offered Cull his hand, then leaned in to say something in a low tone Pippa couldn’t hear. Whatever the message was, Cull gave an affirming nod.
After her parents left, Pippa burst out, “What happened with Papa in the parlor?”
“Not much.” Cull shrugged. “We drank whisky. He asked about the mudlarks, and I answered. Then he invited me to your mother’s birthday party.”
“Did he force you into accepting the invitation?” she asked suspiciously.
“Why would he have to do that?” Cull gave her a quizzical look. “I want to go and meet your kin. Unless…” He drew his brows together. “Would you rather I not go?”
“Of course I want you there. But only if you want to be there.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Then it’s settled. I’m going.”
“My family can be a handful,” she warned.
He raised his brows. “More of a handful than mine?”
He had a point.
“Papa has never approved of any of my suitors,” she said, bemused. “But he seems to actually like you.”
“What’s not to like?”
When she rolled her eyes, Cull grinned and curled a finger beneath her chin. “Your father isn’t hard to win over, sunshine. He just wants the best for you.”
“And I suppose you’re the best?”
“Have you had better?”
Blushing at his wicked, knowing smile, she asked, “What did Papa say to you on the way out?”
“It was nothing.”
She angled her head. “He said something.”
“It was just man-to-man talk. Your father wanted to make sure I understand the situation.” Cull’s smile was bland. “And I do.”
“What did he say?” she repeated.
“I don’t recall the exact words. But it was something to the effect of, ‘Hurt my daughter and even your larks won’t find the pieces of you in the Thames.’”
