Tommy was used to temporary. Forever was for other people. People like her could only snatch the little moments when they were lucky enough to get them, and do their best to hold them close.

“Well,” said Mrs. York as many of the spectators drifted away. “At least that’s over.”

She did not appear the least bit vexed. Tommy half expected Mrs. York to sprout tail feathers to rival a peacock at the attention and jealous looks she and Philippa had been given. Tommy exchanged a look with her siblings.

Philippa turned to Tommy. “Now we have you all to ourselves again.”

She suddenly screwed up her face and twitched as though she were sneezing into a sandstorm.

“What are you doing?” Tommy whispered.

“She thinks she’s batting her eyes,” said Mrs. York. “I told her to practice in the looking glass.”

Tommy was thrilled. Being flirted with terribly was leagues better than not being flirted with at all.

“It’s charming,” she assured Philippa. “Probably only to me. Therefore, I cannot recommend deploying that particular expression again. But rest assured that with Baron Vanderbean, it indeed had its desired impact.”

Philippa’s face was skeptical. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “What might you know about my desires?”

Tommy made a lascivious expression and murmured, “Only that I would be happy to grant them.”

Philippa tilted her head. Was she thinking the offer over?

She might only be acting flirtatious to keep up appearances. Then again, if those disturbing facial contortions were her best attempt at acting…

Mayhap the rest was real.

“I believe I’ll take a stroll in the gardens.” Elizabeth leaned on her sword stick. “I’ve always wanted to explore the ‘Dark Walk.’”

“I’ll go with you,” Marjorie said loudly.

“Baron Vanderbean,” said Elizabeth. “Would you and Miss York like to join us?”

Mrs. York gasped. “On the Dark Walk?”

“It’s not dark,” Philippa pointed out. “It’s midafternoon.”

“But—” Mrs. York flapped her hands. “The things the gossips say happen on those paths after nightfall—”

“Don’t worry,” said Elizabeth. “The real reason I carry a cane is to knock blackguards unconscious in one swoop.”

“And it’s sunny,” Marjorie added.

“It is a fine afternoon,” Mrs. York admitted. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh dear,” said Chloe. “His Grace and I were hoping you would accompany us for a stroll down the Grand Walk to the Rotunda.”

Faircliffe looked as though he’d rather fly off in a balloon than spend another moment with Mrs. York.

Behind Chloe, a few society ladies looked on shamelessly.

“Of course I’m happy to accompany the Duke and Duchess of Faircliffe wherever they wish as their particular favored guest,” Mrs. York announced. “Philippa, meet me at the Rotunda in one hour, and not a second later.”

“You carry a pocket watch?” Tommy asked Philippa in surprise. “I never noticed.”