“I’m not at all certain you should have brought Mrs. Tucket as Miss Wingate’s chaperone this evening.” Lady Pickering frowned toward the corner.
Tobias followed her gaze. Seated in a chair, head bent with her chin resting on her chest, was Mrs. Tucket, her eyes closed and her mouth hanging open.
He should have stayed home tonight. They all should have stayed home.
“Is she asleep?” Lady Pickering asked.
“It appears that way.” He scrubbed his hand down his cheek. “I’ll go and wake her.”
As he made his way to Mrs. Tucket, he realized Lady Pickering was following. They passed a few ladies who, based on the direction of their attention and their whispered murmurings punctuated with “Overton’s ward,” were clearly discussing the snoozing chaperone.
As Tobias neared the woman, she jerked. “Goddamn bloody hell!”
Everyone in a ten-foot radius turned toward her immediately, their eyes wide. A hush fell over the corner as each person stared at her in expectant silence.
Mrs. Tucket had fallen back into her restful state, her chin on her chest, her lips parted. At this distance, Tobias could hear her snores.
Refusing to make eye contact with anyone, he gently touched the chaperone’s shoulder and whispered, “Mrs. Tuck—”
She jumped so violently that she nearly fell from the chair. Tobias had to clasp her elbow and throw his arm across her middle to keep her seated. Slumped, but seated.
In her confusion—at least he hoped it was confusion—she brought her other hand around and socked him in the jaw. He stumbled back, letting go of her elbow, which allowed her to use that hand to shove him over onto his arse.
The silence around them was deafening, and somehow the music for the dancing seemed quite far away. Then there was chattering and…laughter. Small at first, the amusement grew until Tobias could no longer hear the music at all.
Scrambling to his feet and tidying his clothing, Tobias went back to Mrs. Tucket who, blinking and yawning, straightened in her chair. She looked up at Tobias as if she hadn’t just knocked him over.
“Did you have a nice nap?” he asked quietly, forcing himself to smile. He needed to send her home, which left him as Miss Wingate’s chaperone. How could he act in that capacity when it was taking all of his energy just to think of her as Miss Wingate and not Fiona, the woman who had quite invaded his dreams the past three nights? Goddamn bloody hell indeed.
“I fell asleep?” She waved her hand. “Just for a moment. Where is Fiona?” She squinted toward the dance floor.
“Dancing with Lord Gregory.” Tobias glanced over his shoulder and noticed that Lady Pickering was only a few feet away, her expression a mix of humor and pity. He looked at her pleadingly and mouthed the word, “Help.”
Thankfully, she came toward him without delay. “I’ll be delighted to take over as Miss Wingate’s chaperone.” She gave Mrs. Tucket a warm smile. “You go on home and get your rest.”
“I don’t need to go home,” she said stubbornly.
Tobias feared this was going to turn into even more of a scene than it already had. As if his current notoriety wasn’t bad enough. Pivoting so that he faced the wall and had his back to most everyone around them, he fixed Mrs. Tucket with his most serious stare. “If you don’t go now, it’s going to reflect poorly on Miss Wingate,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you don’t want that to happen.”
Concern darkened her features. “How can that be?”
“You did that…thing you do when you sleep. The cursing. Then you hit me and knocked me over.”
Her face turned a rather ghastly shade of gray. “I understand. And I offer my gravest apologies.”
“I’ll escort you downstairs, and my coach will take you home. Lady Pickering will take care of Miss Wingate. All will be well.” He offered his arm, assisting her to leverage herself up. Thankfully, she’d brought her cane this evening. It had fallen to the floor, probably when she’d demonstrated her remarkable pugilistic skill.
Tobias bent and swept it up, handing it to her so she could make her way to the doorway. He worked very hard not to look at anyone as they left.
Once he’d turned her over to a footman who promised to see her settled in the coach when it was brought round, which the man had promised would be quickly, Tobias returned to the ballroom. His steps grew slower as he passed through the doorway, and he asked himself why he wasn’t leaving too. Not returning home with Mrs. Tucket, but there were so many other places he could go.
White’s. Where there were probably even more wagers about him, as well as Trowley and others like him waiting to pounce. So perhaps not there.
The Phoenix Club, of course. He’d kept to the library the past few nights to avoid talking with anyone about the incident with a maid who wasn’t even a bloody maid.
Barbara’s. His former mistress would welcome him back eagerly. She’d continued to send him notes every few days, encouraging him to change his mind. Yesterday’s had been angry, however, as she’d heard about his affair with a Phoenix Club maid. She’d accused him of being a lying ass. Not Barbara’s then.
As if he would have gone there. She was no longer an option. When he thought of a woman who he wanted to spend time with, he increasingly imagined Fi—dammit, Miss Wingate. He thought of their charming discussions about maps and geography, teaching her to dance, listening to her learn the pianoforte. He thought of her hunger for life and thirst for information, and he wanted a first-row seat as she experienced everything she wanted, everything she felt her life had been missing.
When she’d kissed him, something had unlocked
