“You are correct,” Lucien said. “So now my sister and your ward can attend the assembly next week. Except I need to find Cass a chaperone.”
“She can use Miss Lancaster. Fi—” Tobias realized he’d started first-naming her in his head. Which seemed logical since they’d been kissing a short while ago. However, he couldn’t display such familiarity. Hell, he shouldn’t even be thinking it. “Miss Wingate won’t be coming.” Tobias thought it a very bad idea to bring her back to the scene of the scandal. Not that it was a scandal for her. Hell, if no one knew it was her, she could probably come to the damned ball. Except she had that bloody dark red hair that stood out. It was possible no one would make the connection since she’d been wearing a cap today, but it hadn’t covered her hair entirely.
“Why not? I thought this entire proposition today was so your ward could attend.”
“It’s… Never mind.” Tobias wiped his hand over his face.
“You’re still distracted,” Lucien said. “By the maid. A maid? What the hell were you thinking?” He gave Tobias an icy glower. “Also, don’t fuck with my maids.”
Before Tobias could say something stupid, such as she wasn’t one of his maids, Evie strode into the ballroom. Leaving Lucien behind, Tobias went to meet her.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“On her way home.” Evie gave him a look that told him everything he needed to know—she knew exactly who the “maid” was, and she wasn’t going to tell anyone.
Tobias briefly clasped her hand. “Thank you.”
He left the club without a backward glance.
By the time he reached his house, he’d considered several ways he might approach Fiona. Miss Wingate. As he walked inside, he asked Carrin to summon her to his study. There, he waited anxiously for her arrival.
He did not have long to wait.
Now dressed in a floral-patterned gown with her vibrant hair in a severe style without a curl falling loose as it had in the garden, she tentatively stepped inside.
“Close the door.” He shouldn’t have her do that for propriety’s sake, but this was a private conversation.
She did as he said and moved to the middle of the room. She looked lovely, despite the obvious tension in her frame. Her jaw was tight as she regarded him with well-earned wariness.
He stood near his desk, his arms folded, willing himself not to look at her mouth lest he recall kissing her. “Why were you at the club dressed as a maid?”
“I wanted to see the inside. I thought it would be safe to go at that time of day.”
“You thought it would be safe?” He ran a hand through his hair before dropping it to his side. “There is nothing safe about disguising yourself and stealing into a private club, even one where women are allowed.”
“I understand that now,” she said softly.
“I should bloody hope so. The irony is that you chose a truly awful day for your excursion. There was a meeting to discuss this Season’s assemblies as well as whether family members—and wards of members—could attend.”
“And can they?” she asked in a voice that grew smaller and higher with each word.
He stepped toward her, glowering. “It doesn’t matter to you because you won’t be going.”
Her eyes rounded briefly. “Because you’re sending me back to Bitterley.”
“I bloody well should. What were you thinking dressing as a maid and—” He stopped short, frowning. “How did you even know how to dress as a maid?”
“I’m clever.”
Yes, she was. “Who helped you?”
“No one.”
“I don’t believe you. Why aren’t you telling me the truth?”
She lifted her chin and stared him in the eye unflinchingly. “If you’re going to send me away, just do it, please.”
He closed the space between them so that she had to tip her head back. “You are fortunate you weren’t recognized because you would have been ruined.”
“Did I ruin you?” She lowered her gaze as her brow furrowed. “It seems I may have.”
Could a man be ruined? Probably, but it took a great deal of effort, especially for an earl. “I established my reputation long before you came along.”
She looked up at him once more. “But you’ve been trying to rehabilitate it, and I ruined your efforts.”
“Did Evie tell you that?” He saw the confusion in her eyes and added, “Mrs. Renshaw, I mean.”
“It’s important that I understand the consequences of my thoughtless actions, which I now do. I’m so sorry.”
He could see her remorse, could feel it coming off her in waves—so much so that he was tempted to take her in his arms and console her. Which would be the worst idea in the history of ideas. “What should I do with you?” He asked that question of her as much as of himself.
“I promise I will be a model young lady going forward.”
“You think I should allow you to continue with your Season? I was of a mind to insist you wed immediately.”
She nodded. “I understand, and I will work to that end so that I am no longer a burden to you.”
He flinched. “You aren’t a burden.”
“I was today.”
He couldn’t argue with that. While he may not be ruined, she’d made his objective of finding a wife much more difficult.
“I would do anything to go back and not do what I did.”
The kiss exploded in his mind. But she likely didn’t mean that. “Go to the club?”
“Well, that too.” Faint swathes of pink swept up her cheeks. “I was referring to kissing you. I don’t know why I did that. I just felt bad, and it seemed the right thing to do.”
The right thing… How could that be possible?
