Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway

40

Slowly awakening, Pippa smiled before she even opened her eyes. She snuggled closer to Cull, rubbing her cheek against his bare chest, and his arms tightened around her. Surrounded by his warmth and scent, she would have been content to lay there forever.

“I’ve never known you to be a sleepyhead.” His amused voice rumbled beneath her ear.

“That is because we haven’t had a moment of peace since we met.” Yawning, she tipped her head back to see his smiling face. “What time is it?”

“Past noon. But we can stay in bed if you like. After last night, we deserve a day off,” he said with feeling.

They’d been up past dawn, wrapping up the case. Charlie had delivered Mary and her accomplice to her contact within the police. Hadleigh had dealt with the cemetery guards, greasing their palms to ensure their discretion. Afterward, the entire group had debriefed at Charlie’s. Pippa had filled everyone in on Mary’s confession.

Livy had furrowed her brow. “So Wood and Morton are innocent?”

“Of actual crimes, it appears so,” Pippa had responded. “Both did, however, withhold information. Morton played along with Julianna’s fake death, thinking that she was alive and they would eventually elope. And Wood knew she was dead, but he didn’t tell anyone who he suspected the killer of being. Likely out of loyalty since doing so would also expose Julianna’s scandalous scheme and ruin her reputation forever.”

“If only Julianna had trusted us, instead of using us as pawns, perhaps we could have helped her,” Fiona had mused.

“What could we have done?” Charlie’s voice had been hard and brittle. “When it comes to a woman’s right over her future, society stacks the deck against us. Julianna saw only one way out. While I do not condone her choices, I am also not surprised that her situation ended badly.”

Cull had needed to settle the mudlarks back at the Nest, and Pippa had gone with him. She’d helped tuck in the youngest ones, who’d protested they couldn’t sleep after the night’s excitement, then dozed off as soon as their heads met their pillows. Then she and Cull had gone to his bedchamber, a big comfy space that had instantly felt like home. After a quick bath, they, too, had hit the mattress…which brought them to now.

“I don’t want to leave this bed all day,” she declared.

“Sweeter words I’ve yet to hear.” Cull shifted onto his side, facing her. Tucking a tress behind her ear, he said, “There are things I need to tell you, Pippa. To explain why I acted the way I did.”

“I’m listening,” she said intently.

When he told her what had happened to Fanny, she bolted upright. “Heavens, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is there anything I can do—”

“Fanny’s fine.” Sitting up against the headboard, Cull curled a finger under her chin, his eyes tender. “We’ll visit her later today, if you wish.”

Pippa nodded. “Yes, please.”

“I’m telling you about Fanny, not as an excuse but to explain why I acted the way I did. Seeing Fanny get hurt because of me…I was terrified.”

“Squibb is to blame, not you,” Pippa said hotly. “You were trying to do the right thing.”

“That is what Grier said. And he set me straight on something else, too.” Cull took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers as he gazed into her eyes. “I’m yours, Pippa. Scars and all. I’ve already made my choice, and that is to love you. To do everything in my power to make you happy and that includes supporting your work with the Angels, your painting, and whatever else you desire. That is what I have to offer.” He dragged in a breath. “In return, if you’re willing to take me on, mudlarks, mayhem, and all, then that is your choice to make. And I hope to Christ that you’ll say yes.”

Pippa’s eyes grew misty. “Yes, Cull. A thousand times yes.”

He kissed her with a tender ardor that set her heart aflame. Other parts of her, too. When he hauled her atop him, she felt the strength of his arousal. She rubbed sinuously against him, painting his thick length with her dew, grinding her pearl against his steely flesh. Growling with approval, he gripped her bottom and urged her on. They teased one another with no hurry or rush, no end in mind save the pleasure of being together.

Gazing down into her lover’s smoldering eyes, she said, “Do you know what the woman in Portrait of a Lady Dreaming desires more than anything?”

“If you say what we’re doing now, I’ll get hard every time I look at the blasted thing.”

“That’s part of it,” she said with a grin. “But what she wants—what she’s yearned for her whole life—is a love that makes her world bigger instead of smaller. That tears down any walls that try to confine her and makes her feel safe to fly. Because no matter what, she knows that love will always catch her.”

He cupped her cheek, his touch reverent, his gaze reflecting the wonder she felt.

“You are meant to soar,” he said huskily.

“We both are, and we do it better together. You told me once that what you offered your birds was a sanctuary and not a prison,” she said tremulously. “And that is what our love is.”

“Now and forever,” he said.

They sealed their pledge, first with the meeting of their lips, then with their bodies. He surged inside her, and she took him deep, her back bowing with bliss. He guided her hips as she found her cadence, as she filled herself with his love and gave him all of herself in return.

The ride soon grew frantic. When he slid his hands up her spine, urging her to lean forward as he thrust up, she gasped his name. Grunting, he continued shafting her, stroking her pearl with each plunge of his cock. The sparks inside her gathered and exploded into a flame that incinerated her earthly tethers. She soared into rapture, and he followed with a harsh groan, pulling out and drenching her bottom with his hot fulfillment.

They lay together, floating and boneless. Her heart pounded in unison with his, and there was no need for words. Only for kisses and soft touches, until it was time to love again.

Two months later

As Cull entered the Nest, he removed his mask and took in the changes with a feeling of awe. The sparkling windows and tidy sitting areas. The larks dutifully setting the clean tables with crockery. The delicious smells wafting from the platters waiting on the newly polished sideboards. Some days it felt like he had wandered into some fantasy, but this was his reality now.

And he owed it all to Pippa. His beloved…and his betrothed.

He spotted Pippa chatting with Fanny and Mrs. Needles by the fire. Fanny, now fully recovered, was holding Pippa’s left hand, exclaiming over the engagement ring Cull had recently given her. At first, Pippa had wanted to wait out the rest of her mourning period before getting engaged. Wanting to protect her reputation, Cull had agreed.

A few days ago, however, Pippa had entertained her mama-in-law. Cull knew that she dreaded the visits but felt obligated to look after the old harridan. One look at Pippa’s tense features afterward had told Cull that things hadn’t gone well. He’d pulled her into his arms.

“I told the dowager that I had met someone…and she called me a wicked slut.” Pippa’s shaky voice had made Cull want to punch something. “She said that she would never forgive me. That she would not tolerate being in my ungrateful presence unless I recanted my sins.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Cull had murmured.

“I’m not.” To his surprise, the shakiness in Pippa’s voice turned out to be laughter. She tilted her head back, her eyes glowing with mirth. “Now I never have to see the termagant again.”

As a parting gift, she had given the dowager Portrait of a Lady Dreaming.

“Let her hold onto her fantasy,” Pippa had declared. “I have a life to get on with.”

In the end, Cull had the dowager to thank for moving his nuptial plans along. Pippa had realized that, no matter how long she waited, Society was going to judge her marriage to Cull as scandalous. And she cared not a whit.

Hearing that, Cull had wasted no time in getting down on a bended knee and offering her the ring that he’d carried around in his pocket for weeks. He had already asked for her father’s permission. These days, Cull got on well with Hunt, the two spending long hours discussing the intricacies of the ’Change. As Pippa had predicted, her father was more than willing to impart his business knowledge to the mudlarks.

“Cull, you’re back early,” Pippa exclaimed. “We weren’t expecting you for luncheon.”

She was taking a brief hiatus from the Angels to prepare for their wedding. She spent a lot of time at the Nest, and Cull adored having her here. As did the larks. Ollie, who’d fully regained his memory to everyone’s relief, followed her around like a puppy.

“I wanted to see what my favorite ladies were up to.” He bowed to the women before settling next to Pippa, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Also, I heard coq au vin was on the menu.”

In another miraculous feat, Pippa had convinced Mrs. Halberd to retire on a handsome pension. She’d hired a new cook whose talents rivaled that of the chef at the Griers’ club.

“Here I was thinking it was my charms that lured you from work,” Pippa said with a flirty grin. “Turns out, it was just your stomach.”

Cull murmured in her ear, “I thought I showed you my appetite for your charms this morning.”

Pippa turned bright pink. And well she should. He’d licked her awake and eaten his favorite meal for breakfast.

“Timothy, stop harassing the poor girl,” Fanny chided. “You don’t want her to change her mind before the wedding.”

“You’re making dear Pippa blush,” Mrs. Needles agreed.

Cull sighed as Pippa smothered a laugh. She and her soon-to-be “mamas-in-law” got on like a house on fire, and she found it endlessly entertaining when the matrons ganged up on him. He picked up her hand, enjoying the sparkle of his claim. He’d commissioned the ring from Rundell, Bridge, & Co., selecting a three-carat yellow diamond for the center stone and smaller white diamonds to surround it.

The sun and the stars: the light that Pippa brought into his life.

“Pippa is not going to change her mind,” he said confidently.

She beamed at him. “I cannot wait to be Mrs. Cullen.”

No woman in her right mind would relinquish a countess’s title to be his wife…except the perfect woman for him. Moreover, Pippa had shown him that he was perfect for her, too. She made him realize that he had more to offer than his protection and care (although both were hers until his last breath). With her, he felt worthy of love…just by being himself.

Pippa had broken his curse of solitude. He could not wait to officially claim her as his extraordinary Princess of Larks. As he leaned in to kiss her, a ruckus interrupted them.

“Cull,” Fair Molly yelled from the entrance. “There’s someone ’ere to see you!”

Frowning, Cull rose. He wasn’t expecting visitors.

“Excuse me,” he said to Pippa and the others. “I’ll be right back.”

As he headed to the door, he checked for his knife. The defeat of Squibb had dissuaded others from challenging the mudlarks, but better safe than sorry. Fair Molly opened the door…and Cull froze at the sight of the brunette standing on the front step.

She was still too thin, her nose dusted with freckles. She wore a servant’s simple frock. Beneath the brim of her bonnet, her brown eyes were wide and unsure in her lovely face.

“Maisie?” he said hoarsely.

“Hello, Tim,” his sister said.

She hadn’t responded to his letters. He thought he might never hear from her, despite Pippa’s encouragement to keep trying. Now that his sister was here, he didn’t know what to say. How to express all that flooded his heart.

So he opened his arms.

With a small sob, Maisie ran into them.