And one by one, Tommy charmed them senseless with her particular mix of flattery and flirtation. However many invitations awaited Baron Vanderbean at the Wynchester home, she’d just managed to double the number.

Philippa waited impatiently as Tommy made her slow, deliberate way about the parlor, murmuring compliments and kissing hands and ignoring Philippa.

She didn’t mind. This was all a lark. She and Tommy were actors on a stage, even if the audience didn’t realize they were seeing a performance. Tommy was doing exactly the right thing to please Mother in every way. Philippa could not have scripted it better if she’d tried.

There was no reason to feel slighted at being ignored by a woman pretending to be a man pretending to be her suitor.

Once all Mother’s friends were starry-eyed and hanging off Tommy’s every word, Tommy turned to Philippa.

“And now,” she said, her eyes never leaving Philippa’s. “At last my gaze can fall upon the reason I breathe.”

Gasps and sighs ricocheted through the sitting room at that completely melodramatic nonsense. No one said such a thing and meant it.

Tommy closed the distance between them in three dramatic strides. She took Philippa’s hand. “I have never known another to match your beauty and never will.”

Were Philippa’s fingers trembling? Why were they trembling?

Tommy smiled, as though she knew about the tickling sensation spreading throughout Philippa’s entire body. Never dropping her gaze from Philippa’s, slowly…ever so slowly…Tommy lifted Philippa’s fingers to her parted lips. Tommy kept them there against her warm mouth for several heartbeats longer than was necessary or proper.

Philippa could not have removed her hand if she’d wanted to. She was frozen in place.

“My word,” choked Mrs. Jarvis. “I have three unwed daughters I could introduce him to.”

Tommy lowered Philippa’s hand but did not immediately release it. Instead, Tommy brushed the pad of her thumb lightly across the tender skin, as though memorizing its warmth or sealing in the kiss. Only then did she let go.

No one who had witnessed the interaction would ever believe Baron Vanderbean wasn’t actually courting Philippa.

Even she had to fight to remember it was all pageantry.

Philippa buried her tenderly kissed hand in the voluminous lace of her skirts. Although Tommy was no longer touching her, the places where Tommy’s thumb had brushed Philippa’s skin felt slightly warmer than they ought, as though a ray of sunlight had fallen upon her skin.

No one had ever said or done anything so romantic to her before. Philippa supposed hearing such words from another woman should feel peculiar. Strangely, it did not.

The words felt…real.

“I’m glad you came.” Her voice did not sound like hers at all. Breathier. Strained. “I begged Mother for this tea, just so we could invite you.”

“Philippa,” Mother whispered with recrimination. “Much too forward.”