The Virgin's Spy (Tudor Legacy #2)(111)
And then, with apparently artless ease, the princess took Matthew with her and left Maisie and Philippa Courtenay alone.
“Lady Philippa,” Maisie said warily.
“Call me Pippa. Everyone does.”
Since she couldn’t quite bring herself to do that, Maisie simply nodded as though in agreement while silently vowing not to call her anything. And waited to be asked uncomfortable questions.
“Is Stephen ever going to recover from loving his Irish woman?”
Well, that was rather more uncomfortable than even she had bargained for. “It depends on how you define recovery.”
A flash of amused respect from Lady Philippa. “I define it as not needing to turn to hard drink or easy women to salve his pain.”
“Surely your twin can give you more accurate information than I can, seeing as how they are together in France.”
“But Kit never met Ailis Kavanaugh. You were there. You watched it all happen. And before you tell me that you were far too simple and innocent to understand what was going on…don’t bother. Your pose of childlike blandness does not fool me in the slightest.”
It had been a long time since Maisie had met an adult who bothered to look behind the masks she wore. Stephen had been the last, and that only briefly and in flashes between his obsession with Ailis. It was something of a relief to shrug her shoulders and answer bluntly. “Stephen is not a man to be broken by anything save his own conscience. He loved Ailis very much. But any chance they might have had vanished the moment her daughter was murdered. It wasn’t his lies or their different religions or political aims that ruined them—it was Stephen himself. He will never forgive himself for Liadan’s death. I think he believed that walking away from Ailis was his penance.”
“That doesn’t precisely answer my question.”
“He will not take refuge in alcohol.” She didn’t dare think about women. What did she know of how men eased their pain in that way? “He will not retreat from the path he has laid before himself—to serve where he can to the best of his ability. It is your queen’s loss if it is not to be in England.”
“That sounds rather cold.”
“You asked for honesty, not comfort.”
Lady Philippa smiled, but there was something sad to it. And piercing. She seemed to be looking deep into Maisie’s own cold comforts as she said, “You are not wrong, but I do not think you see the whole of my brother. There is more to Stephen than duty, and a heart with room for more than one love. I do not think passion has finished with him quite yet.”
Rudely, Maisie stood up first. She had no experience with passion and no desire to discuss it with this self-possessed woman who also happened to be Stephen’s sister. “My business is with numbers,” she said with finality. “I shall leave passion and penance to those better equipped to recognize it.”
Lady Philippa rose with a grace Maisie envied, and her smile grew mischievous. “Thank you for your honesty, Mistress Sinclair. I will not forget it. Or you.”
Maisie couldn’t decide if that were a promise or a threat.