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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 shouldn’t admit this aloud, but I just wanted a chance to be in Society, even though I’m not actuallyinSociety, if that makes sense. I prefer it that way, actually. I don’t like to be in the center of anything.” Her shoulder twitched.
“It does make sense because I feel somewhat the same. Although, I suppose I don’t mind being the focus of attention, except that I have a tendency to be a disaster.”
“The queen’s drawing room was just one occasion.” Prudence gave her a small smile.
“True, but the Season is young yet,” Fiona said drily. And it seemed she was here for the duration, which still surprised her. She rather expected Overton to change his mind and return her to Shropshire anyway. In fact, if she inquired about Mrs. Tucket, he may just decide it was convenient to send them both.
“Good evening, ladies.” Overton’s voice drew Fiona’s attention to the doorway. He stood just inside the room, his gaze moving from Fiona, as if she’d caught him looking at her, to Prudence.
“Good evening, my lord,” Prudence said, setting her embroidery down in her lap.
Overton stepped further inside. “I came to inform Miss Wingate that her break from Society is over.” He looked at Fiona then, his gaze cool. “You’ll attend the Dungannon ball on Saturday. You must be on your best behavior, for Lady Dungannon is a Phoenix Club patroness.”
Meaning she had a great deal of power. Did that really matter to Fiona since she would not be attending the club’s assemblies? She couldn’t bring herself to ask. “Will you be coming to the ball?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him, wanting to ask again if there was anything she could do to repair the damage she’d caused to him. But she knew there was not. “I shall be an exemplary model of a young lady. My dancing form will be perfect.”
The corner of his mouth inched up, but he pressed his lips together and straightened. “Good. Have a pleasant rest of your evening.” Then he was gone.
Fiona stared at the empty doorway for several moments. Exhaling, she flipped open the book in her lap, looking for the page she’d left off on earlier. After trying to read the same paragraph three times, she snapped the book closed. “He’s still angry with me.”
“I daresay he won’t stay that way,” Prudence said. “He doesn’t strike me as someone who holds grudges.”
Except perhaps when it came to his father, but was it truly a grudge when the relationship was fraught? “He has every right to be angry with me.” For far more than Prudence knew, of course.
Prudence didn’t look up from her embroidery. “No harm came of it—your reputation is intact. He’ll come around.”
Guilt weighing on her, Fiona blurted, “But his is not.”