She was no stranger to desire and pleasure. Her lovers weren’t looking for anything more than an evening’s romp. Fun while it lasted. There was no expectation of gadding about town together in their real lives. Most didn’t even share their true names.

It was perfectly fine. Tommy didn’t need anything else. Or anyone else.

“Besides,” she said, “there’s no reason to believe Philippa would be interested in me even if I were to shower her with words and conversation. She’s hunting for a husband. She almost married a duke. To people like the Yorks, rubbing shoulders with an untitled Wynchester—even platonically—is too scandalous to consider.”

“She rubs shoulders with Great-Aunt Wynchester,” Marjorie pointed out.

Tommy sent her a flat look. “Polite Society is not and will never be for me.”

“Maybe Philippa doesn’t want it either,” Jacob suggested.

Tommy picked at her tea cake. “Maybe she does. We don’t know. I’d rather never confess my feelings than to see her recoil in horror.”

“What if she didn’t recoil in horror?” Marjorie said softly.

“I still couldn’t keep her,” Tommy said. “Losing Philippa would be worse than never having her. If I lost the chance for friendship, I would be left with nothing.”

“A simple conversation,” Jacob insisted. “Not a sonnet about your admiration of her big brain and bigger bosom, but a regular, ordinary, words-and-ideas conversation about something other than the case. If you do that, I promise to stop hounding you.”

Tommy glared at him.

“I promise, too,” said Marjorie. “I’ll even make the others promise as well. If you talk to Philippa for…fifteen minutes.”

“Twenty,” Jacob said quickly.

“Talk to Philippa for twenty minutes?” Tommy burst out. “About what?”

“Take her a kitten,” Jacob suggested. “She likes Tiglet.”

“Tiglet is a homing kitten,” Tommy reminded him. “If she sets him down, he’ll run back to Islington.”

“Then you can give him back.” Jacob tapped her on the nose. “See? He’s a perennial conversation starter.”

“I’m not giving her Tiglet,” Tommy said firmly.

“You should hurry,” said Marjorie. “Graham said she’ll be in Hyde Park with her mother within the hour.”

“Graham’s not even here to be part of the conversation. He…” Tommy narrowed her eyes. “Did he plan this? Did you plan this? Am I under attack?”

“You’re being manipulated into doing the thing you actually want to do,” Jacob said cheerfully. “You cannot go to your grave without having tried at least once.”

“I can’t walk up to her as Tommy Wynchester. She doesn’t know Tommy Wynchester, and besides, the daily promenade in Hyde Park is for the haut ton. Her mother wouldn’t allow me twenty seconds, even if I were Lady Thomasina. Mrs. York has been very clear that Philippa is only to fraternize with future suitors.”

Jacob shrugged. “Then be one.”