> His heart almost burst from his chest when his gaze narrowed in on the date. “This was printed two days ago,” he said gruffly. Worse. “It is tomorrow she will be at Hyde Park.”
Selina smiled, her eyes watchful. “I wondered after such a terribly romantic declaration if you would ignore her. Society is terribly titillated, and I daresay everyone will be coming to meet you as well. Just to observe the spectacle. Mamma is of course beside herself, but I do find it…simply wonderful.”
Making it to London by tomorrow afternoon was impossible. The idea of her sitting there, waiting for him to show, and believing he had ignored her apologies and sentiment almost pulled a cry of denial from his lips.
“I must leave now,” he said, dropping the paper, rushing from the room, and calling for his fastest horse.
Chapter 17
Pippa’s nerves felt stretched to the breaking point. Would he come? She had bared herself to him…to society and the ton would show up at the meeting point as if they attended a play at Vauxhall. Society would confirm that Miss Pippa Cavanaugh was indeed Lady W…and they would know she was desperately in love with the Duke of Carlyle.
What did you think…say when you saw my words of love? Did you scoff, laugh?
And amid those doubts, she recalled the tender emotions that had been in his eyes the night he took her on their greatest adventure.
Pippa reached a bench in the park and sat. Several ladies stared at her, their expression ranging from shock to admiration. She did not pay them any attention. Instead she opened the final chapters of Oliver Twist. If she did not read and divert her mind from it all, she would expire from the anxiety coursing through her.
What if he did not come…what if he loved her no longer. She recalled his words when she’d expressed her fear of loving him. Let it not be a fear because you own my heart, Pippa. Let me own yours too. And she smiled, pushing aside the doubts.
Almost an hour after the time Pippa had stipulated the duke had not shown. The fashionable people walking along the paths had increased significantly, for they did not move on. But seemingly waiting as well to see if the duke showed.
Many chattered behind their hands, and a few laughed. Others seemed sorry. To Pippa, their reaction did not matter, only that Christopher had not shown. She tried to be brave, keeping her head up, and the tears suppressed.
But inside, she died slowly and painfully.
The crowd dispersed long before Pippa gave up.
She went through an agony of indecision. Should I stay or leave? But in the end, that tiny hope that Christopher loved her as she adored him, was enough to keep her there for another two hours. It was the slight drizzle which forced her to secure her book, stand, and make her way home, her heart and reputation so broken and torn she doubted they would ever be mended.
Christopher made it to London and southeast corner of the Serpentine River in Hyde Park five hours after the allotted time. The few benches dotting the landscape were empty, and he spied no young lady in a bright yellow gown. His senses remained dormant, and he knew Pippa was no longer there. The fact he had reached even a minute after the time would have gutted her. And it destroyed him, for he didn’t want her to believe, even for a second, that he had not cared enough to come.
A few ladies and gents strolling by sent him appalled looks, for his appearance was decidedly disheveled—his top hat had been lost sometime during his mad dash, his boots were splattered with mud, and his clothes were wrinkled. He had driven his horse at a hard pace, and still, he'd missed Pippa. The rains and the mud-clogged roads had been a hindrance, but he’d pushed. Only pausing to switch horses at an Inn.
And I’ve missed you.
He did not tarry long, once more mounting the tired horse and trotting through the busy streets to Russell Square. Upon arriving, he saw Lady Cavanaugh hurrying down the steps with a small valise in her hands. Footmen were strapping portmanteaux to the carriage. Christopher dismounted and indicated to one of the countess's footmen to take the horse to the mews for oats, water, and a rubdown.
Lady Cavanaugh had turned at his voice, and she gasped upon recognizing him. He made his way over to her, and her eyes widened at his appearance. Regret punched through him to see that she had been crying. A quick scan inside the carriage did not reveal Pippa.
“Lady Cavanaugh,” he began gruffly. “I rode through the night and the rain to make it but was not in time.”
Her lower lip trembled, and she stepped closer to him. "I've never seen my darling Pippa so heartbroken. She believes…" the baroness cleared her throat. "She believes she has lost your love and her reputation."
He sent a searching glance at the townhouse. “Where is she?”
“I fear we’ve overstayed our welcome here, and I cannot blame the countess. It seems Pippa’s revelation as Lady W is a scandal too much for them to bear.”
"I will fix it," he promised. "As my duchess, everyone will clamor to be accepted by her. Not the other way around."
The baroness closed her eyes briefly. “You love her then?”
“With every emotion in my heart.”
“She has left with a lady’s maid to Mr. Radley’s Hotel in Ranelagh Gardens in Liverpool. Tomorrow she will board a ship to see her father. I do not think she plans to return anytime soon.”
His heart in his throat, he bowed, and turned around. Christopher made his way home, had a bath, and made himself presentable. Then he called for his carriage. First, he would make his way to her publisher, then he would head to Liverpool and find his love.
Pippa stood at Canning dock at Liverpool, awaiting instructions to board her ship to New York. Her ticket had already been checked along with Molly’s, the maid the countess had allowed to accompany Pippa on her journey. Their two valises had already been collected and stocked to be carried on board by a porter, and now she waited with the other passengers in the waiting room, anticipating boarding any minute now.