Chapter Eleven
Serena dropped her reticule on the table by her bed, the weight of her winnings making a small authoritative sound that made Pepper smile.
“I can’t think of a person who has your luck…” Pepper sighed as she pulled out Serena’s wraps and nightgown. “Though by that look on your face, I’d warrant not all the cards came up the way you were hoping tonight. Did the earl not attend?”
“He did. I saw him for just a moment as I was leaving.” Serena turned her back to allow Pepper to help her undress. “I wasn’t in the mood to play.”
Pepper’s eyes widened in surprise. Something was off in her mistress’s tone. “And Sir Tillman? Was he not in the mood for a hand or two?”
Serena’s stillness spoke volumes. “I didn’t inquire but I’m sure he can hold his own at a card party or make his own excuses if he wishes. He mentioned a penchant for billiards at his club and I don’t blame him. Men are luckier in their vast choices to occupy their hours.”
“A shame you couldn’t—“
“Leave it.” Serena cut her off, stepping away. “I’ll finish this. I’m tired and out of sorts but I prefer to see myself to bed. Get some sleep, Pepper.”
“As you wish.” They had been together too long for Pepper to mistake the signs. Serena rarely admitted to anything remotely resembling fatigue or weakness. The demand for solitude was valid and she respected the request with smooth speed and without complaint.
She headed downstairs to ensure that all was well. The kitchen had long since quieted for the day and the house was almost silent. She left a note for the cook to anticipate Lady Wellcott’s wishes for her breakfast tray and then glanced at the clock to note the time.
Nearly midnight.
Pepper headed down the empty servant’s corridors to the house’s back entrance where deliveries were made. She unlocked the portal and smiled. “You’re on time.”
“Why is she home early? I thought it was cards tonight?”
Pepper shook her head. “Hush! It was cards and she isn’t sharing her every thought, is she? Not even with me, I’ll have it known!”
He leaned against the doorframe, lowering his voice. “I apologize.”
“God, she’d skin me alive if she knew I was doing this.” Pepper smoothed her hands over her apron nervously.
“Prudence. It’s my neck that stretches if she realizes this secret but you have my eternal gratitude for the risk you take, dear girl.”
Pepper sighed. “Very well. There’s not much to say but if I know her, the meat of the battle’s just ahead. Trent’s like a poison and even my lady isn’t immune to it. Every minute with him is taking its toll and she won’t suffer it much longer.”
“She’ll begin to push for a quick finish.” He took off his top hat and raked his fingers through his hair, betraying his nerves. “Damn it. I can’t help but fear that in a rush, mistakes are made and the danger of a misstep grows. And the nephew? Any signs he is even remotely a dullard?”
“Sir Warrick!” Pepper playfully swatted at his arm to cheer him. “Jealousy makes you far too pretty!”
He laughed softly. “Thank you. Now tell me something useful, Prudence.”
“Sir Tillman prefers billiards to cards. I think he plays at his club. She’s set for the Royal Theatre on Thursday, her dragon in tow if Lady Lylesforth is recovered from her cold. And…she is missing you dreadfully.”
“You have no proof of that last one.”
“I do! I’d wager my favorite bonnet on it!”
“You’re that certain, are you?” he asked, his good humor returning. “Your favorite?”
“You’ll buy me two if she doesn’t admit it and send for you herself before the month is out! How is that for confident, sir?” Pepper put her hands on her hips, a woman unafraid.
“I’ll buy you a dozen bonnets.”
Pepper’s merriment faltered. “Oh, that’s too many! I’d not have a misunderstanding!”
“I highly doubt my Raven will mistake the gift but I agree it might be hard to explain their source.” Phillip crossed his arms. “I’ll just wait until all of this business is settled and then pay my debt. How’s that?”
Pepper shook her head firmly. “No. It was all a jest. I’m right, of course, but…it was foolish to speak of bonnets. You mustn’t!” Her throat tightened and her eyes felt watery and hot without warning.
“Pepper? What is it?”
She pressed her fingertips to her lips.
What would my darlings think of me if I paraded about suddenly in a bonnet that another man had gotten me? The twins had been so kind to her lately, stirring her soul with every tender word and compliment. The shame of Southgate haunted her spirits and her growing fear that if they knew… The horror would be compounded if they also thought she was the sort of girl who accepted gifts from men. Jack and Jasper thought her a good girl and her secret adoration of them was too precious to risk.
Not for all the bonnets in the world.
“Prudence?” Phillip asked again.
“Never you mind. I’ll be the mistress of my own millinery needs and you just see that you continue to keep out of her sight and clear of the tangle!”
“I am a ghost until she sends for me, Pepper.”
“Says the man who nearly forfeited all.”
“An overdose of honesty I will do my best to avoid in the future,” he admitted. “I am who I am, Pepper.”
“I like you for it, Sir Warrick. As she loves you for it. Just mind your toes.” Pepper stepped back to start to close the door. “Off with you now!”
Phillip smiled as the door’s surface missed brushing his nose by the breadth of a few hairs. He was used to the delightful way she abruptly ended every clandestine meeting, the forfeit of civility somehow charming when it was dished out by a tiny strawberry blonde without an ounce of malice in her entire frame.
He stepped back, replaced his topper and made his way down the dark alley, as stealthy as any thief. Raven had banished him and he’d gifted her with the belief that she had the authority to do so. But Phillip Warrick’s vows to her the day of his return to London held him fast. He loved her. He’d sworn to never leave her again. Whatever conditions she’d dictated made no difference. Loyalty was embedded in every fiber of his being and Phillip was not some weak soul to cower in ignorance or omit any chance to come to her aid should she need him.
Raven Wells was his.
He’d endured years without her. A few days or weeks without her in his arms and underneath his body were agony but not a torture he couldn’t survive.
Phillip sighed. Raven wasn’t the only one who had learned to look at the larger board and see the movements of the players. Not that patience was a lesson anyone ever enjoyed. She’d accused him of underestimating her, of not sensing the changes that the events and years had wrought in the girl he’d first kissed in a gazebo. But Phillip accepted that Raven had missed surveying the same in him. She’d become a force in her quest for vengeance but Phillip had also transformed with time and experience.
He was not a man who turned from what he wanted or relinquished his heart’s desire—not for scandal, for disaster, nor for self-preservation. If his warrior queen lived for ambushes and the tactics of the battlefield, she’d unknowingly chosen a mate who was built for the strategies of the long siege.
“Billiards.” Phillip said quietly as he stepped out onto the street and raised his hand to hail a hackney. “There’s a game I understand.”