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Fiona couldn’t leave Cassandra behind. She tipped her head back and summoned the courage to speak. “I, ah, wasn’t alone.”

Mrs. Renshaw’s jaw dipped in surprise. “Indeed? Who is this other person?”

“My friend.” Fiona didn’t want to reveal her identity, but when they found her, there would be no helping it.

She’d leave that for when she was found.

If she was found. Perhaps Cassandra had been able to escape.

Would Fiona have done that? No, she couldn’t have left her friend behind, just as she wouldn’t now.

“We were separated over on the gentlemen’s side. On the first floor.”

“I’ll take care of it. You relax here for now.” With a parting smile, she left, closing the door behind her.

Fiona practically leapt from the chair to the window. The garden below was empty. Where was Overton now? And what could he possibly be thinking of her behavior?

Wringing her hands, she paced across the room and back again.

Why had she kissed him? She’d never kissed anyone besides her mother.

This was a wholly different kind of kiss, of course.

It was the kind of kiss she’d seen depicted in a certain book hidden in the bottom corner of her father’s library.

Before her cousin had taken it along with the rest of the books.

Perhaps her lingering curiosity about the things she’d seen in that book had prompted her to kiss him.

Or the fact that the magnetism Cassandra had talked about had swept through Fiona, driving her to the earl.

He’d been angry, and she’d felt awful. So she’d apologized.

Then she’d wanted to do something to make amends.

Such as kiss him?

Coming to a halt, Fiona squeezed her eyes closed and put her hand over them. She forced herself to breathe, to calm the racing of her pulse. Everything was going to be fine. The worst that could happen was that she’d end up right where she started in Bitterley.

Her insides churned. That would be truly terrible. She didn’t want to go back. The only person she would have missed, Mrs. Tucket, was here with her. And here she had Prudence, Cassandra, Lady Pickering…and Lord Overton.

Dropping her hand to her side, she went back to the window and looked down at the garden once more.

More specifically, she focused on the back corner where the door was partially disguised by a vine.

She felt the cool wood of the door on her back and the warmth of the earl pressed to her front.

Heat spread through her as she recalled the way he’d clutched her waist and pulled her against him, the feel of his bare hand cupping her face, the brush of his lips against hers.

The entire encounter had been over far too soon, and she’d no expectation it would happen again. Nor should it. He was her guardian. He was also, apparently, a rake who’d recently given up his mistress and was trying to improve his reputation.

An overwhelming sense of frustration and failure washed over her. She hadn’t meant to cause him so much trouble. She hadn’t thought of him at all, and for that she was horribly sorry.

A few minutes later, the door opened. Fiona turned from the window as Cassandra rushed inside. They met in the center of the room and hugged.

“I was so worried about what happened to you.” Cassandra gave her a fierce squeeze before they parted.

“As I was about you.” Fiona darted a glanced at Mrs. Renshaw, who stood near the open doorway. “Were you found?”

“Not until Mrs. Renshaw came.” She sent her a grateful smile. “I was huddled in the servants’ cupboard trying to decide what to do.”

“And now you must both be on your way, quickly, before those who are downstairs take their leave.”

Cassandra started toward the door, and Fiona followed. Mrs. Renshaw led them down two flights of stairs to the lower level, and they retraced their steps to the door they’d entered earlier. Then Mrs. Renshaw accompanied them up the stairs to Duke Street, where a hack was already waiting.

She turned to Fiona and Cassandra. “I’ve instructed the driver to deposit you each near, not in front of, your perspective homes. He has already been paid, so you needn’t worry about that.”

“How can we ever thank you?” Fiona asked, still overwhelmed with regret as well as disappointment in herself.

“By not doing anything like this again.” She smiled at them. “I understand what it’s like to do something foolish. You feel bad about it now—and you should—but you’ll learn from this and emerge wiser. To do anything else would be the true failure.”

Fiona took her words to heart, silently vowing to learn from this mistake. “From now on, I will consider my actions from everyone’s perspective.”

Mrs. Renshaw fixed her gaze on Cassandra. “I will not be telling Lord Lucien you were here.”

“I could hug you,” Cassandra said, blinking. “Thank you.”

“Go now.” She waved them toward the hack and stood on the pavement until they’d climbed inside and the vehicle rolled away.

Sitting beside Cassandra, Fiona leaned her head back against the seat. “That was such a bad idea.”

“It was not my finest,” Cassandra said wryly. “I’m so sorry. What happened to you?”

“Nothing happened to me , but I think I ruined Lord Overton.”

Angling herself toward Fiona, Cassandra gaped at her. “What?”

“When we heard those voices, I panicked. I ran to the right—where the voices were coming from.”

“I did wonder why you went that way. I dashed over to the door across from the stairs. It was a servants’ cupboard.”

“You were smart.” Fiona exhaled lest she rush the retelling of what had happened. “I was not. I ran directly into Overton. He recognized me immediately and pulled me away before anyone could see me.”

Cassandra’s eyes lit with delight. “Brilliant! Then he brought you to Mrs. Renshaw’s office?”

“Not directly,” Fiona said slowly as the events ran through her mind for the dozenth time.

“He took me out to the terrace, then down to the garden. I’m not sure he was thinking of where we would go, just that we shouldn’t be where everyone else was.

” How she hated that she’d put him in that position.

Her face falling, Cassandra pressed her lips together. “Right. You said you ruined him.” She winced. “How could you possibly do that?”

“Er, it’s complicated. When we were in the garden, there were people in the ballroom. They opened the doors, and someone recognized him. We ran to the other side of the garden—to the ladies’ side—and I thought we were safe.”

“But you weren’t?” Cassandra tensed, her shoulders bunching.

“I felt terrible about the entire situation. He was angry, I apologized, and the next thing I knew, I was kissing him.” She covered her eyes, afraid to see Cassandra’s reaction. That didn’t stop her from hearing it, however.

Cassandra’s gasp filled the hack. “He kissed you?”

Fiona wiped her hand down her face and rested it in her lap. “No, I kissed him. Then he kissed me. It all happened so fast.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

That was not a question Fiona expected. She jolted, her mind going right back to that moment and the pleasure of his embrace. “Yes.” The word was a bare whisper, an almost silent affirmation of what she dared not admit and yet couldn’t seem to withhold.

Fiona rushed to say something else, to distract from what she’d revealed. “He’s going to send me back to Shropshire immediately.”

“Is that what he said?”

“No, but why wouldn’t he? I deserve nothing less.”

“How did you ruin him? If you were seen kissing, you’d be the one ruined, not him.”

“Because no one recognized me. They assumed, based on my costume, that I was a maid and that Lord Overton was having his way with me.”

Cassandra grimaced, her brow creasing as her jaw tensed. “Now I understand. And he’s been working so hard to improve his reputation.”

Fiona stiffened. “You knew about that?”

“Vaguely.” Cassandra waved her hand. “He has a reputation as a rake, as do a good number of gentlemen, including my brother. I mean Lu, of course. Con is the most staid gentleman you’ll ever meet. Poor Sabrina.”

“Sabrina?”

“His wife. She’s lovely. Hopefully she’ll come to town so you can meet her.” Cassandra frowned and then touched Fiona’s arm. “This is all my fault. I never should have suggested this endeavor. You must lay the blame entirely upon me.”

“I can’t do that. We were in this together.”

“I don’t want Overton to send you back to Shropshire. Please say whatever you must.”

Fiona smiled and took her friend’s hand. “I would never make you the scapegoat, just as you didn’t abandon me at the club.”

“I couldn’t! I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do, but I wasn’t going to just leave you there.” She squeezed Fiona’s fingers. “Though we only recently met, I have never had a friend as dear as you.”

“I haven’t either, which is why I won’t mention you at all. Overton won’t even know you were there. And Mrs. Renshaw is going to keep your secret too.”

Cassandra blew out a breath. “I don’t deserve any of that. I maintain this is my fault.”

They stared at each other a moment before collapsing into a hug against the seat until they were both laughing.

They separated, and Fiona flopped back against the squab. “I don’t know how I can find amusement in this. I’m quite anxious to see Lord Overton.”

“If he tries to send you back to Shropshire, you must allow me, or better yet, Lu, to intervene. I won’t let you go. How can I possibly survive this Season without you?”

Fiona appreciated her friend’s support, but it was more than that. She didn’t want to return to Bitterley either, and she would do whatever necessary to prevent it—whatever her guardian insisted.

What if that included kissing? It would never, of course, but she might dream that it did.