He looked at her mouth then, at the plump curve of her lips, and recalled how she’d felt in his arms. An overwhelming urge to take her against him once more came over him. The right thing indeed. “It can’t happen again.” His voice sounded rough.
Taking a step back from her, he exhaled some of the frustration from his body. Sexual frustration, if he were honest with himself. Deciding honesty was overrated, he attributed the tension to the impact of today’s events on his marriage plans. He was running out of time.
“Go upstairs now,” he said. “And stay there until tomorrow.” He sounded autocratic and obnoxious, like his bloody father, but he needed to. However their relationship had changed today, he had to get them back to where they needed to be—he was her guardian, and she was his ward.
“I get to stay?”
“Apparently. Don’t make me regret my decision.”
“I won’t. Thank you.” She turned to go but hesitated at the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she said, “I really am sorry. If there’s anything I can do to help you, I hope you’ll let me.”
You could marry me. That would solve my problems.
The idea came from nowhere and shocked him to his core. He said nothing as Fiona left, his heart pounding at the notion that had just crept into his mind.
He was in trouble where she was concerned. Especially if he couldn’t even stop thinking of her as Fiona instead of Miss Wingate. She was his ward, not a woman he desired.
Unfortunately, she was both.
Chapter 13
Mrs. Tucket yawned loudly as she rushed to put her hand in front of her mouth. “I must to bed, girls.” She started to rise from her chair in the sitting room Fiona shared with Prudence but wobbled.
Fiona jumped up from her chair and went to help Mrs. Tucket to her feet. The older woman smiled and patted her hand. “Thank you, dear.”
“You should have brought your cane.” Fiona had taken her to get one over a week ago, but Mrs. Tucket was not using it consistently.
“Bah, I haven’t got very far to go, and I’m not going up and down stairs.”
“At least let me help you to your room,” Fiona said, still holding the older woman’s arm.
“That won’t be necessary. If I can’t walk that far on my own, I’m a lost cause. You stay with Miss Lancaster.” Mrs. Tucket sent a smile toward Prudence.
Fiona reluctantly released her. “You promise you’re going to your room? That you aren’t going down multiple flights of stairs to bother Mrs. Smythe?”
“No, I’m not doing that.” Mrs. Tucket sighed. “I was only trying to help with directing the maids. This is such a large household, and I thought Mrs. Smythe could do with the support.”
“You’re retired now, Mrs. Tucket,” Fiona said kindly. She’d had to speak with her the day before about intruding on the housekeeper’s domain. “You don’t have to do any of that. Just relax and let others do the work.”
“It’s very hard to stop managing things when you’ve been doing it your whole life. Since I was eleven, mind you, when my mother died and, as the oldest, I had to take charge of everyone, including my poor father.” She shook her head as she meandered to the door. “Good night.”
“Good night,” both Fiona and Prudence called after her.
“She’s such a sweet woman.” Fiona retook her chair near Prudence’s, picking up the book she’d set on the seat when she’d leapt up to help Mrs. Tucket. “I do wonder if she’d be happier in a cottage back in Shropshire. I should speak to Lord Overton about it. Although, she really isn’t his concern. I should probably wait and let my husband decide what to do. He’ll be the one to support her.” She turned her head to Prudence. “Will he support her? I suppose Mrs. Tucket won’t be his concern either, but she’s as good as family to me.”
“Then you’ll only choose a husband who understands and values that.”
Fiona wasn’t sure it would be that easy, but she would take the advice to heart. “You’re so wise.”
“I’m not sure that’s accurate,” Prudence said with a frown. “I should have put a stop to your plans to go to the Phoenix Club, not stand idly by while you secured costumes and executed a reckless scheme.”
Fiona had told her what happened as soon as she’d arrived home. Not everything, of course. She’d left out the kissing part. “You are not to blame for what happened. I did want to ask how you knew about the maid costumes.” She hadn’t had a chance earlier because she’d been summoned to the earl’s study.
Prudence was focused on her embroidery, her hand moving the needle perhaps a bit more slowly than a moment before. “I don’t remember where I heard about them. Probably overheard something.” She didn’t look up.
Fiona wasn’t sure she believed that but wouldn’t press her. “I’ve also been meaning to ask how you knew Lord Lucien. The night I met him, you two were already acquainted.”
Now Prudence sent her a furtive glance. Her hand stopped, but only for a moment before poking the needle into the fabric again. “Lord Lucien helps people. I used to work at a school, but I didn’t like it.” She spoke slowly and deliberately, which only made Fiona more curious. “I heard about him from a friend and asked for his help to find new employment.”
There was clearly more to her story, but it seemed equally evident that Prudence didn’t wish to share it all. She wasn’t making eye contact, and her body was tense. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Prudence,” Fiona said softly. She thought of what Cassandra had told her about Lord Lucien helping people and was glad he’d done so for Prudence. “I hope you’re happier here.”
Prudence looked up then, her gaze meeting Fiona’s. “I most definitely am. Perhaps I
