Philippa gazed at Tommy. Three months together was not nearly enough time. Now that she’d had a taste of what life could be like with a special…friend, or whatever Tommy was becoming, Philippa wanted to keep it always.

But it would have to end. Whomever her parents betrothed her to, it would not be Tommy. All Philippa could do was savor the moments between now and then. With luck, one day she would become one of those shocking old grandmothers, whose best stories began, When I was your age…

“Shall I ring for another tray of cucumber sandwiches?” Mother asked.

Lady Newcomb replied, “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”

“You’ve outdone yourself as always, dear,” agreed Mrs. Jarvis.

“I have something for Philippa,” Tommy said.

All eyes swung in their direction.

Philippa swallowed. More flowers? Sweets?

Tommy lifted the wicker basket from behind Philippa’s chair and placed it on her lap. “Be careful.”

Gingerly, Philippa lifted the edge of the lid.

White whiskers popped out, followed by a pink nose and calico fur.

“It’s Tiglet!” she squealed, then realized she sounded just like her mother. Perhaps her fluttery affectations weren’t fake after all. It was impossible to contain the laugh of delight in Philippa’s throat when the kitten rasped his rough tongue against the pad of her finger. She pulled him from the basket and hugged him to her chest. He had grown quite a bit since last she saw him. “Isn’t this Chloe’s kitten?”

Tommy shook her head. “Jacob’s. And now yours, if you’d like him.”

Of course she would. Not only was the kitten adorable, but male calico cats were also as rare and unusual as the Wynchesters themselves. Philippa would cherish her temporary companion.

The ladies cooed at the sweet surprise.

Well, all the ladies except Philippa’s mother, who looked significantly less pleased with Tiglet than she had with her yellow rose.

“It’s a homing kitten,” Tommy said under her breath.

“A what?” Philippa whispered back.

“Let him out of a window if you need me,” Tommy explained. “It’ll be faster than sending a footman.”

A homing kitten.

Philippa stroked Tiglet’s soft fur in wonder. She had devised this encounter because she couldn’t send a simple letter. The gift was more than thoughtful—it was practical and useful. Releasing a kitten into the wild was something she could do from the privacy of her bedchamber.

But it also meant Tiglet was one more fun and adorable thing that Philippa wouldn’t be able to keep. Between now and the Prince Regent’s grand celebration, Damaris would have justice—or not—and Philippa would be betrothed. She would become mistress of someone else’s home, and Tiglet…would return to where he was loved.

“If you don’t want him…” Tommy said softly.

Philippa cradled Tiglet to her chest. “Too late. He’s mine for now.”