Nothing. There was nothing in the world that could make up for the fact that two women were simply not allowed to live and love together. Even if Philippa were willing to try, she’d lose everything she held dear. Her parents’ approval, her standing in society, perhaps her friends.

Tommy could love her a thousand times over, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Besides,” Philippa said. “My parents have selected a suitor already.”

Tommy’s stomach bottomed out. Her chest tightened painfully. They’d been enjoying a fake courtship they’d planned to last the entire season. But then she and Philippa had shared their first kiss, and suddenly Philippa was ready to accept the very next man her mother put in front of her, sooner rather than later. Tommy had tried, and the answer was no.

Philippa had never truly been hers, and never would be.

“Who is he?” Tommy asked, her voice dull and her limbs heavy.

Philippa’s mouth twisted. “Captain Northrup.”

“What?” Tommy burst out. “You cannot possibly—”

“Of course I cannot possibly,” Philippa interrupted, her blue eyes flashing. “But until we have the proof to disgrace him or force him to confess, my mother has determined he is the one. Fortunately, I don’t expect him to agree. Once he has his coronet and any corresponding annuity and land, he will have plenty of options. Mayhap he’ll prefer a higher-born bride.”

“And then what?” Tommy said. “You’ll find some other man and marry him?”

Philippa’s eyes slid away. “Yes.”

One word. One syllable.What else was there to say? Finding a suitor for Philippa had always been the plan.

Tommy forced her throat to swallow, and she gave a short nod. If Philippa was set on marrying a man, that was her choice. All Tommy could do was keep her heart and her emotions locked up tight. Behind a wall of stone, so she could not be hurt.

She supposed it was ironic that someone who constantly played roles should hate change. But whenever Tommy removed her wig and cosmetics, things returned to how they were before. She didn’t mind temporary changes. It was the permanent ones that caused problems.

“I’ll be at the Oglethorpe ball on Saturday,” said Philippa. “Northrup has let it be known that he’ll be in attendance, and Mother thinks it the perfect opportunity for me to claim him.”

“Well,” Tommy said. “That sounds horrid.”

Philippa nodded. “It will be.”

“I have something that will cheer you up.” Tommy opened the lid of the wicker basket. Her big, romantic gesture would no longer lead to romance, but at least this would be a welcome surprise. She lifted out the book and handed it to Philippa.

Philippa looked at it blankly. “What is this?”

“Er,” said Tommy. “Hopefully one of the Northrup manuscripts.”

“I see that,” Philippa said. “That’s exactly what it is.”