“Not us.” Chloe made a suspiciously bland expression. “It has been a lovely evening, but Lawrence and I are required at home.”

Tommy waited but did not feel the usual pang at Chloe leaving early. Philippa was here. Tommy was thinking of sneaking away, too. She and Chloe were still part of each other’s lives, but those lives had expanded to include more people.

“Mm-hm,” Elizabeth said, wiggling her eyebrows. “‘Required’ at home. Very busy schedules at nine p.m. whilst Parliament is conveniently not in session.”

“Very busy,” Chloe said firmly. The look she exchanged with Lawrence could have set the house on fire. “We’ll see you at Northrup’s soirée.”

“Northrup.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“Remind me as much as you like.” Philippa’s blue eyes shone. “I cannot wait for that smug liar to get his comeuppance.”

“Did you bring the manuscript?” Jacob asked.

“I did. It’s with my valise, which is…Where is my valise?”

“Upstairs.” Tommy willed her cheeks not to heat. “In your guest chamber, which is not my bedroom.”

“But is next door to it,” Elizabeth whispered.

With their usual noise and affection, the siblings managed to wish Chloe and Lawrence goodbye and then relocate to the large sitting room.

“There you are!” Philippa scooped Tiglet up from the floor and cradled the kitten to her chest. “He was tranquil as could be in the carriage, and then shot out through the open window as soon as your house came into sight. I keep waiting for him to stop running away from me.”

“He doesn’t run away,” Jacob reminded her. “He goes home.”

“I was taking him there,” Philippa said. “On my lap.”

“He gets excited,” Elizabeth said. “He wants to be a good kitty.”

“He is a good kitty,” Jacob said firmly. “All animals are very good at being exactly what they are.”

Tommy wished it were just as easy for people like her. She didn’t want to play a role. She wanted to be exactly who she was. Especially today.

Philippa spending the night seemed so…official. Tommy wished it could be the start of many more just like this one.

In the sitting room, the siblings dispersed to their usual pursuits.

Graham flung himself onto a sofa between two end tables piled high with magazines and newspapers. Elizabeth leaned her sword stick against the pianoforte and began to play an aria from her favorite operetta. Jacob lay on his stomach, trying to coax what Tommy hoped was a sweet cuddly hamster and not a snake out from under a sofa.

Marjorie escaped upstairs, likely to nick Philippa’s manuscript and take it up to her attic studio to practice some light forgery.

“This would be a lovely room to read in,” Philippa said wistfully.

“We have an entire shelf of books.” Graham gestured toward the wall behind him. “You’re welcome to read them.”