Page 4 of The Best Marquess

He froze. Father knew? “With Bliss?”

“No, you damned fool. You’ve been meeting the actress’s gel after I expressly forbade it.”

Finn’s breath expelled in a rush of relieved shock. His father was aware of Bliss but not who owned it…yet he also knew about Abby.

Shit.

“You mean my sister? Your daughter Abigail?”

Lord Pinehurst threw his empty glass at the marble fireplace, smiling grimly when it shattered. “You dare provoke me? She is not family!”

Finn waited as his father succumbed to another coughing fit. “Abby has a small child—”

“Another bastard!”

“My niece,” he said firmly.

“You’ve forced me to act,” snapped Lord Pinehurst. “I will not tolerate my money being wasted on lowborn trash. No more allowance for you, m’boy. The bankers have been informed, my secretary will refuse all bills apart from tailor or bootmaker.”

The whole world tilted. “What?”

“You heard me. Disobedient sons get nary a penny. When you publicly throw those guttersnipes back on the streets where they belong, then we’ll talk. Now get out.”

“Father,” he replied grittily, as his whole body thrummed with hate.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t abandon his sister and niece, or lose the business he’d worked so hard to build. Bliss was the only thing truly his.

Thank God he would be seeing Pippa shortly. Even if he couldn’t reveal all the details, she would have some practical ideas to resolve the situation.

Surely.

“Which gown for the musicale, my lady?”

At her maid’s question, Pippa halted her frenetic bedchamber pacing and waved a hand in the general direction of the armoire. “Oh, any of them. As long as it doesn’t have lace at the bodice. That always makes me itch like a hound with fleas.”

Ruby exhaled so deeply it might have launched a sailing ship. “A color? Please?”

She glanced apologetically at the older brunette. Poor Ruby had received the runt of the litter; not only did Lilian and Georgiana have wonderful figures; they also loved fashion, shopping, and having their hair styled. In Pippaland, shopping was a waste of good reading time; anything other than a loose chignon an annoyance; and the best gown was one that covered what it needed to and could survive several hours curled up with a book.

As for a color, blue suited quite well, but which one? Cerulean, that lovely Latin extraction that meant sky-colored? Calamine, like a robin’s egg? Gah. If only she could remember the shade mentioned in her latest book to describe the hero’s gaze.

“Travails of a Lonely Pirate King,” said Pippa, tightening her robe belt then lifting her spectacles with one finger to rub the bridge of her nose. “His piercing yet tender eyes.”

Fortunately, Ruby was used to such responses; they often discussed their favorite romance novels while dressing or bathing. Even the naughty parts.

Especially the naughty parts.

“Celestial,” said Ruby. “An excellent choice.”

Relieved her wardrobe required no more thought, Pippa returned to rage-pacing over the library debacle. How utterly galling, that her reward for years of holding the family together after Mother’s death, for coaxing them through their grief at the expense of her own, of keeping their secrets and providing endless practical assistance…was an unwanted marriage.

In all honesty, it hurt. A lot.

But she would not be marrying Devonshire, even if this presented the greatest challenge possible: out-maneuvering her grandmother, the most calculating and ruthless woman in London. At least Finn understood the depth of dragon beneath the grande dame mask, and would offer diabolically creative ideas accordingly.

“Here we are,” said Ruby cheerfully, as she returned with a petticoat, light blue velvet gown trimmed with a cream satin sash, and that most despised article of clothing: stays. They were hardly necessary for breasts that barely reached the handful threshold; her future romance hero husband might well require a magnifying glass just to locate them. Not that he would mind, being an unashamedly bold adventurer.

Once dressed, with her hair styled and reticule crammed with a pencil, Latin phrasebook, several chewy caramels (Finn’s favorite sweets) a few coins, and a clean handkerchief, Pippa hurried downstairs to where Grandmother and Georgiana waited in the entrance hall. Her father was attending some political dinner and Xavier had fled to drink and play cards with friends.