The unused wing of the house felt alive again. This was Philippa’s home as well now, and already felt as though it had always been that way.

And Tommy’s chambers upstairs—er, that was, Tommy and Philippa’s chambers—were the best rooms in the house. Philippa’s private study was fit for a queen. Tommy’s dressing room contained more disguises than ever, now that Philippa was taking part in the schemes. Their nights were spent in each other’s arms, and their days were spent in pursuit of their passions.

Rather than bother with society events, the Wynchesters threw their own parties, where Tommy and Philippa were free to dance as many sets together as their feet allowed.

Philippa now had a dedicated armchair in the Planning Parlor, and her personal reading nook in the sitting room. She spent hours working on parliamentary speeches with Faircliffe and creating pamphlets for social reform with Chloe, and spent just as much time having passionate discussions with Graham about the shocking lack of care some people took with their books.

“Miaow,” said Tiglet.

Tommy deposited the cat on the hardwood floor. He immediately darted through the skirts and slippers, making his way straight to Philippa. She scooped him up and winked at Tommy.

Sort of winked. Philippa was trying very hard to learn the trick of what she’d termed Tommy’s “rakish eyebrow wink,” but so far Philippa managed to look far more adorable than lecherous. Her friends thought the hapless attempts romantic. If Agnes and Katherine were alive, the bluestockings were certain their next grand story would be about Tommy and Philippa.

Today, the ladies were helping with the library project. Damaris, with her newfound fame, recruited more wealthy matrons than Philippa had dreamed possible. Chloe penned pamphlets. The rest of the reading circle used Tommy’s maps to explore the communities in pairs, approaching successful local businesses as possible sponsors. Many offered up a spare corner to use for the library itself, either out of goodwill or in hope that some of the additional traffic would become future customers.

Philippa and her friends were changing lives in their beautiful bluestocking way. It was lovely to be part of it as Tommy.

Great-Aunt Wynchester would be proud.

Cat-free for the moment, Tommy made her way back to her maps. But she had scarcely reentered the sitting room when Graham leapt up from his armchair, sending notes and newspapers flying.

“Did Jacob misplace another scorpion?” she asked in alarm.

“What? No. That is, I’ve no idea, and it’s the least of my concerns.”

“You’re not concerned about loose scorpions?”

“Not when there’s an adventure to be had.” Graham’s golden-brown eyes smoldered with satisfaction. “I found it.”

Tommy frowned. “You found the smugglers?”

“I found the clue.” He ripped a large piece from the paper. “The parcel is a woman.”

Tommy stopped walking. “Someone is smuggling a woman?”