Philippa’s heart fluttered. Would she ever grow used to such romantic words? “I accept your apology. You were only trying to help. I am sorry I reacted to the situation as poorly as I did.”

“I would have been devastated if my siblings pulled off a caper without including me. It should have occurred to me you might feel the same way. I accept your apology.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“May I kiss you now?”

Philippa stumbled. “We’re in the middle of a ballroom!”

“What if we weren’t?” asked Tommy. “Could I kiss you then?”

“No,” Philippa forced herself to answer. “That part stays the same.”

Tommy gave a crooked smile. “I was foolish to hope your feelings had changed.”

They hadn’t changed at all, which was a large part of Philippa’s problem. Even if she and Tommy never saw each other again after the season was through, there would always be a hollow place in Philippa’s chest where Tommy had once been.

She doubted she would ever fully recover from this tendre.

“Ah, well.” Tommy waggled her eyebrows. “I hope you don’t expect Baron Vanderbean to stop flirting with you.”

“He can do so,” Philippa said. “Just to keep up appearances.”

The way things were was the way they had to be. There was too much at stake to allow something as foolish as a heart to make decisions. The life she lived. Her parents’ love. She could not bear to lose her family.

“How about you?” Tommy asked. “Have I crossed your mind these past few days?”

Only every single second.

“Baron Vanderbean is the flirt,” Philippa replied. “Not Miss Philippa York.”

“I thought you might write,” said Tommy. “Perhaps with news about the manuscript.”

“My mother reads my correspondence.”

“You could have sent Tiglet,” Tommy pointed out. “He’s trained to return home.”

“I noticed,” Philippa said wryly. “If that kitten so much as senses an open window, he’s off like a shot. Underwood must oil the hinges of the door twice a day so that Tiglet doesn’t hear it opening. I’ll lose three stone if I keep chasing after him like this.”

“Then give him back,” said Tommy. “I don’t want you to lose a single curve. You’re perfect as you are.”

“No reneging,” Philippa said. “Tiglet is mine until we secure justice for Damaris.”

In fact, she had spent several lonely nights trying to counter-train Tiglet into recognizing Philippa’s chambers as his new home. It was not working.

“I have news,” she said. “About the manuscript.”

Tommy’s eyes were cautious. “Tell me.”

“The decorations on the edges are different.”

“Um.” Tommy’s forehead wrinkled. “Why wouldn’t they be? You did study it close enough to realize it’s a different volume in the set of four?”