“Poor Baron Vanderbean,” said Tommy. “Used so heartlessly.”

“It is his honor,” Philippa reminded her. “A real baron would not waste time talking to a wallflower. He’d fawn over guests even higher ranking than he.”

“Then I am glad not to be a real baron.” Tommy glanced over Philippa’s shoulder in the direction of the refreshment table. “Shall I fetch you some gin or a meat pie?”

Philippa narrowed her eyes. “Neither is on any hostess’s menu, so I suspect you are bamming me.”

“I happen to like both gin and meat pies,” Tommy protested. “Perhaps it is your tastes that are not refined. Meat pies were present at the Duchess of Faircliffe’s end-of-season gala.”

“Did you attend the gala?” Philippa tilted her head and frowned. “I don’t recall seeing you there.”

“Er…” This was not the moment to confess Tommy’s ill-fated attempt to speak to Philippa while dressed as a woman. “It was a rollicking crush, just like this one. Shall we take a turn about the room?”

“Mother would love that,” Philippa agreed.

Tommy made a show of offering her arm.

Philippa made no show at all of curling her fingers around Tommy’s elbow. She just…did it, as though strolling with Tommy were a perfectly unremarkable activity that could occur at any moment of any day.

Tommy felt that light touch through her coat and linen sleeves, as though her flesh had just been branded with Philippa’s fingerprints forevermore.

“Keep a lookout for stray unwed lords.” Philippa’s gaze darted about the ballroom. “I didn’t want to wed the Duke of Faircliffe, but I hate being a disappointment to my parents. Especially my father. He deals with so much. Marrying well is my sole chance to acquit myself.”

Tommy wanted to say, I am sure you are not a disappointment to your parents, but parents were complicated beasts. No two were the same. Tommy had ended up alone because she had been orphaned, while Chloe had been abandoned by parents who didn’t want her.

Baron Vanderbean—the real Baron Vanderbean—had become their father. Tommy would have done anything to avoid disappointing him. She could not fault Philippa for feeling the same way about her own parents.

As they strolled the perimeter of the ballroom, Philippa said, “I don’t suppose there is any news about Damaris’s uncle?”

“No, but Graham’s informants are searching for evidence. We’ll find a way to stop him. Wynchesters never give up on a client.”

“Thank you,” Philippa said softly. “Our reading circle is a sisterhood. I will do everything in my power to help.”

Tommy understood loyalty, and how people who were not of one’s blood could become just as important as family. Tommy could not bear to imagine how much Philippa would suffer if her new husband felt such strong ties were “bluestocking nonsense” and beneath them.