Pippa bit her lip to keep from grinning as the “lady” stuffed spoonful after spoonful in his mouth in an obvious attempt to avoid any further conversation. “I am so tired I do not think I can possibly finish mine.”
The gentleman nodded. “I am sure you are. Travelling by public coach can be very draining on a young lady. I hear we got the last three rooms, luckily.”
“Three?” Pippa froze with the spoon halfway to her mouth.
“Oh yes, well if you can call them rooms.” The gentleman grimaced. “I suspect mine is a mere closet since they had to accommodate me in one separate from you ladies. I believe you are to share with Mrs. Doyle, and Mrs. Stanton and her son will occupy the last.”
“But, that is impossible, Mrs. Doyle is—”
“A dreadfully loud snorer, I know,” Percephany interrupted in a high pitched tone. “I am so sorry, my dear, but we cannot have me keeping a young one awake all night. Could you imagine the rest of our journey tomorrow with a fussy child aboard? Oh dear no. I am afraid you are quite stuck with me.”
Pippa stared wide eyed in horror. “But—”
Percephany kicked Pippa under the table. “I assure you, Miss Nickle, I will do my best not to keep you awake this night. After all, we wouldn’t want to put another poor traveler out, now would we? And I promise no harm shall come to your virtue whilst I am your faithful chaperone. Yes, you shall be perfectly safe under my watch.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Why, I have heard horrid things happening in these inns you know…rape and murder, just to mention a few. Besides, you have seen how competent I am with a pistol. Why, I dare those thieves to come back again.” He tittered while shooting her a meaningful look.
“Oh yes, you are in very capable hands, Miss Nickel. Why, I would even trust myself to Mrs. Doyle’s protection after the tale of her encounter with those rough coach robbers. They would have to be brazen louts to take on a woman of her….” He pondered the bulk of the canary yellow, velvet clad figure. “Skill,” he finished.
Though the gentleman’s obvious appreciation of Percephany’s ample figure was amusing, Pippa found herself in an awkward position. It was clear the he-she did not want anyone to know he was a man in disguise. The question was why, and should she keep his secret? Not to mention would she be safe from all harm in his company? She toyed with her stew. It was not as if she had any virtue left to be concerned with, and if everyone believed Percephany was a woman then it wouldn’t even be an issue. Perhaps she could claim later the cross-dressing man had stolen her virginity by force and it was his child she carried? Though she did not want to lie, it was a plausible story that might help her situation. After all, surely the strange man would not be easily found and held accountable for his supposed misdeed.
“I suppose we should retire for the night,” Percephany mumbled. “After all, morning will come early for those of us ladies who are unused to such a wicked hour of rising.”
Pippa dropped her spoon and rose with great reluctance. “Good eve, everyone, pleasant dreams.” In silence she followed her roommate upstairs to the last room on the left.
Percephany opened the door to reveal a small space crammed with two narrow cots made up with a couple of thin wool blankets and a narrow table between them, on which perched a pitcher of water, a wash basin and a single lit candle. “This is highly indecent, sir.”
The he-she yanked her inside and closed the door. “Relax, I have no intention of accosting you in your sleep,” he grumbled, in a distinctly male voice.
“You are a man!”
He tugged the bonnet and wig from his head. “Luckily for you, you know how to keep your tongue still. I thought for sure you were going to reveal my identity down there.”
“Your identity?”
With a snicker he sat down on the bed and began unlacing the comically large women’s boots on his feet. “Surely you did not think I would dress in this ridiculous outfit for a lark, did you?”
Pippa crossed her arms. “Well, it had occurred to me that perhaps you were a little touched in the brain, sir.”
His snort echoed in the little room above the thump of the boots hitting the floor. “After wearing this abhorrent corset for the last full day, I am prone to think women are the ones touched in the head, miss.”
She couldn’t help but giggle. “I must agree with you there, sir. A corset is the bane of many a woman’s existence, for sure.”
He looked up with a grin and a twinkle in his eye. “Do not just stand there for God’s sake. Help me out of this torture.”
“Oh, dear.” Pippa stepped back and eyed the door. “I do not believe that would be appropriate, sir.”
“Why?” He eyed her with a skeptical look.
“Well…I mean, ’tis not right for an unwed lady—”
“Do not get your petticoats in a bunch, I have leggings and a shirt on underneath, so your delicate sensibilities shall not be torn asunder by my male physique.” He pulled on the neck of the high throated gown.
“In that case…turn around so I may get at the buttons on the back.”
He turned. “My name is Heath.”
“Oh.” Pippa fumbled with the buttons. “So, just what are you doing dressed up as a woman, anyway?”
“I am on a covert mission.”
Pippa finished with the buttons and stepped back. “To sample women’s fashion?”
Heath snickered and peeled the top of the dress down. “No, to catch the leader of a spy ring, a person with the initials P.N.”
“Well, my initials are P.N.”
“It is not you.” He scrubbed his face paint off with the cold water in the basin.
“Really?” Despite the absurdity of the situation, she found herself a little perturbed to be so easily discounted. “How come? Too provincial to be smart enough?”
He chuckled, patted his face dry with the towel provided and stepped out of the skirt to reveal he did in fact have a shirt and tights on beneath. “No, you are much too chatty to be a spy.”
“Oh.” With a sniff she sat on the opposite cot. When he looked up at her with a grin, she was taken aback by his handsomeness. The silly blonde wig hid a head of wavy, sandy brown hair streaked with gold highlights. Smooth bronze skin was revealed where once thick skin-toned powder concealed it. His deep blue eyes danced with amusement and good humor. “Now that you have changed back into a man, you may leave and find a stack of hay to sleep in in the stables.”
He frowned and thick brows drooped. “I cannot possibly be seen entering the room as a woman and leaving as a man, it would botch my mission.”
“Then do not be seen, sir.” Pippa scowled at him and pushed an unruly chestnut lock behind her ear.
“Like it or not, we are stuck together for the night. We must just make the best of it.”
“If you think for one moment I am going to share my room with the likes of you—”
“Shh!” He clapped a hand over her mouth and looked to the door. Footsteps approached, paused before the door, and then continued past. After a few moments, when no one returned, Heath lifted his hand. “If the spy suspects I am in disguise he might try to break in here tonight and kill me. You could be in danger, so I must stay. Besides, your initials fit the informant we are both looking for.”
“Then I refuse to stay and allow you to put me in harm’s way. I shall go downstairs and demand another room.” Pippa leapt to her feet.
“There are not any other rooms, remember? Now, unless you would like to cause a scandal by slumbering in the stables yourself, I suggest you get some sleep.” With that he set his pistol on the table within easy reach and stretched out on the bed.
“Unbelievable,” Pippa spat. “You are just going to go to sleep now?”
He closed his eyes. “Did you have some other form of entertainment to offer, miss?”
Snatching up the blanket she wrapped it around herself. “Absolutely not!”
“I thought not,” he mumbled. “Good night.”
“Ooh!” Left with little other choice, Pippa removed her bonnet and shoes, and then lay down on the lumpy cot. “So help me God, if you try anything I shall scream the inn down.”
“Warning acknowledged.” He grunted and blew out the candle.
What seemed like hours ticked by and Pippa grew stiff from lying so still on the awful cot. She shifted. Her cot squeaked, but the man’s snores never ceased. Apparently he was not at all bothered with her presence, despite her being terribly uncomfortable with his. Heaving a sigh she rolled onto her back. There seemed nothing to do but make the best of the situation. It appeared the man did not pose a threat to her. She wished, however, she could be as comfortable sleeping with a stranger in the room as he. She wondered at the time for a moment. Surely dawn was coming soon. Her gaze was drawn to the outer wall. Without a window it was impossible to tell the hour. With a yawn she closed her eyes. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Four
Someone rapped on the door. “The coach leaves in a half of an hour.”
Pippa rolled over. Had she not just closed her eyes? Her gaze settled on the man across from her as he swung his legs over the side of the cot with a bleary eyed stare and tousled hair. “Oh, Lord,” she squealed, jerking the blanket up around her neck.
He raised an eyebrow, ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. “Good morrow, to you too.”
Shooting him a dirty look she sat up and bent to retrieve her shoes. Her stomach rolled and sweat broke out on her forehead. In dismay she bolted for the chamber pot in the corner by the door and retched.
The cot squeaked, water sloshed, and then footsteps padded toward her. A damp handkerchief appeared in her line of vision. “Here.”
“Thank you.” Pippa wiped her face and mouth.
“For someone with child, you are curiously shy about the opposite sex.”
She eased to her feet and turned around. “What makes you think I am with child?”
Heath smiled and sat to pull on his ladies’ kid leather boots. “My sister had bouts of morning sickness with all three of her pregnancies.”
Dismissing his claim with a wave of her hand, she sat on her recently vacated cot. “You are mistaken, I am not with child. The mutton last eve must have been rancid.”
“Mine was fine.”
With a shrug she slipped on her shoes.
“Since you refer to yourself as Miss Nickle, I assume you are unwed?”
“Mama sent me to help with my cousin’s wedding preparations in hopes I will find myself a suitable beau.”
It was silent for a moment as she affixed her bonnet and he his wig. “Just how do you propose to find a husband when you are already breeding?”
“I—” Pippa tied her bonnet and got to her feet. “It is none of your business, sir. If you will excuse me, I would like to break my fast now.”
“Wait.” When she peered over her shoulder at him with a wary look, he smiled. “Would you mind helping me dress and apply my face paint?”
“Fine.” Rolling her eyes, she crossed to help him don his costume. “You know, not many men would be able to pull off such a look, sir. Luckily you have rather soft, feminine features. But you could really use the help of a corset.”
His face contorted in mock anguish. “Thanks, I think. Good thing my fiancée is drawn to pretty boys then.”
Her fingers stilled on the buttons down the back of his traveling dress. “You are engaged?”
“Yes, a lovely, titled young lady accepted my suit.”
Pippa sniffed. “And, pray tell, what does she think about her intended touring the countryside dressed as a woman?”
He stiffened. “Lady Spencer does not know, and I am not about to tell her.”
She drew back in surprise. “Lady Spencer? How did the likes of you snare a lady of her impeccable reputation?”
Heath turned around to adjust his skirts. “Well, it helps I am a very rich and titled lord, I am sure. Do you know her?”
“No.” Pippa took the face paints he held out. “I have heard of her, of course. I mean, we do get the society paper from London, though infrequent as its arrival may be. They say she is a diamond of the first water, incomparable in fact.”
“So I have been told,” he drawled.
She raised a brow. “You do not think she is beautiful and refined?”
“Oh, of course, of course….” His look turned comically pained.
“But?” she prompted.
A huff of air fled his lips as she rubbed skin colored paint on his chin. “But nothing. She is beautiful, charming, refined, and I should be thrilled she has chosen me as her husband for the rest of our…lives.”
Pippa covered her snicker with the back of her hand. “You sound thrilled, my lord.”
He rolled his eyes and snatched the lip color from her. “She is the most boring, unimaginative female I have ever met. There, I said it, now let us go eat before there is no food left,” he groused.
After gathering her things Pippa trailed in his wake down to the dining room. The inn was surprisingly busy despite the sun just beginning to tint the horizon a pale pink. They took their places at the table with the rest of their traveling companions.
“Miss Nickle, you look remarkably refreshed,” the older gentleman complimented.
“Surprisingly, for I had very little sleep,” Pippa snipped. She bit her lip, annoyed by her sudden grouchiness. “I apologize for my rudeness. I am over-tired is all.”
“’Tis my fault, I assure you,” Heath simpered. “After all, the poor dear was subjected to my awful snoring all night long.”
Pippa shot him a dirty look and sipped the cup of tea placed before her. “That is it, I am sure.”
Despite her morning sickness Pippa forced down a slice of toasted bread in addition to a sweetened cup of tea, and then, once everyone was done their meal, they headed outside. The coachman handed her up into the conveyance. To her further annoyance she found herself seated next to Heath and across from the woman with the small boy. The woman gave her a sympathetic smile and then turned to look out the window as they pulled away. The boy paid little attention as he attempted to bounce a ball on a string attached to a paddle. Tap, tap, tap….
Pippa tried to smile at the bright eyed child, but only managed a frown. Her less than festive mood this morning was putting her out of sorts and she didn’t like it. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the man’s warm thigh pressed against hers and the incessant, tap, tap, tap of the toy. With any luck they should reach their destination before either drove her noddy.
Thankfully, they reached Bracenville just before noon. Pippa found her uncle Fredrick’s carriage waiting at the depot.
Heath leaned over and scanned the crowded street. “Is there someone coming to collect you, dear?”
Pippa wrinkled her nose at the liberal dose of scent he had marinated in and pointed out the family crest on the carriage. “Yes, Mrs. Doyle, my uncle Fredrick has sent a carriage and my aunt to collect me.” She waited politely for the woman, child, and gentleman to exit.
“Your uncle is Sir Fredrick Allan, the investment banker?”
At Heath’s shocked tone she gave him a sharp look. “Yes, Aunt Beth is my mother’s sister. Well, I would say it was pleasant to meet you, sir, but….” Making a face, Pippa stood to exit the coach.
Heath stayed her with a hand on her arm. “Ah, you are being sent to a relative to hide your condition.”
She jerked her hand away and snapped, “No one knows of my condition and I intend to keep it that way.”
“That is going to be hard to do in a few months’ time, is it not?” He lifted a powdered brow.
“What do you care?”
He smiled, the bright red rouge on his lips making the gesture garish and odd. “If you help me, I shall ensure your secret does not get out.”
Pippa froze. “You would not dare tell my uncle.”
“Oh, but I could, and I might. However, I could be persuaded to keep your little secret
. And maybe help you out of your little predicament.”
She studied his smug expression, unwilling to trust him, yet desperately seeking an out to her situation. “In exchange for what?”
“I have a need to mingle in the social circles. You can ensure Percephany is invited to all the gatherings.” He tipped his head expectantly.
“As a lord I am sure you can gain all the invites you need,” Pippa hissed.
“I can, but then I would not be able to investigate in secret. However, if Percephany were to, say, be your chaperone to all the society events, no one would even suspect a thing.”
She laughed. “That is a silly idea. I have no need of a chaperone.”
“I will admit it appears rather late for that, yes, but perhaps just to keep up appearances and to help distract those from guessing you are with child?”
Pippa stepped down from the carriage. “Ridiculous.” Without looking back she marched across the courtyard to her aunt’s waiting carriage. The groom hurried to open the door and set the step for her. As she was handed up into the conveyance she cringed at the high pitched voice behind.
“Oh Pippa, darling, wait for your dear chaperone.”
She turned to find Percephany lumbering along in her wake. Oh, dear God, I shall never rid myself of her…I mean him, now, not without making a scene anyway.
Aunt Beth leaned forward in her seat. “Philippa, who is that woman?”
Pasting a stiff smile on her lips Pippa ground out, “Aunt Beth, may I introduce my… cousin, Mrs. Percephany Doyle? Mother sent her along as my chaperone. Well, father did actually. She’s my cousin on his side, you see, and….” She scowled at Heath and then lowered her voice. “The poor ugly duckling is widowed with no prospects. I suppose my father’s sister thought to take a chance on her finding a husband in Bracenville, as slim a chance it might be.” She smirked at Heath who frowned.
“Oh…my, well, I suppose I cannot very well send the…girl, packing now can I? It would not be very hospitable of your uncle and I…I suppose.” Aunt Beth gave Percephany a lopsided smile.
“Of course not, Aunt Beth.” Pippa sat in the opposite seat and waited for Heath to clamber aboard. “I am sorry, I thought mother would have sent a note around telling you she was arriving with me.”
Corseting The Earl Page 3