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“Then probably not. We can, however, watch.” Grinning, she linked her arm through Fiona’s once more before turning to address Prudence. “Does that meet your approval? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. After all, Fiona is your charge.”

“She isn’t really. I am her companion, not her sponsor. Though I may act as her chaperone, it really isn’t my place to dictate her behavior. I shall leave that to Lady Pickering and Lord Overton.”

“Is it all right if we go inside?” Fiona asked. “I will only observe.”

“If Lady Cassandra says it’s acceptable, I bow to her judgment.” Prudence gestured for them to precede her.

“Don’t be nervous,” Cassandra said as they entered the card room. Six tables were set up, of which four were occupied.

“What are they playing?” Fiona asked.

“Loo. It will be easier to explain after you watch it for a time.” Lady Cassandra led her to a table to the right of the door. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Lady Hadleigh is a highly regarded player. She’s the one with the two ivory feathers in her hair.”

Fiona nodded as they took a position near the table. They fell silent as they watched for a few minutes. After a while, Fiona began to understand what was happening. It looked like great fun.

“They’re only wagering pennies,” Fiona whispered.

“For now. I suspect on the next round the stakes will rise. But that’s because of Lady Hadleigh’s presence.”

“Does anyone want to join our table? We need at least two more,” a voice called out.

Fiona looked toward the woman, who was perhaps ten years her senior, but didn’t recognize her.

“Should we?” Cassandra asked, her voice rising with excitement.

Fiona glanced toward the doorway. “What about the musicale?”

“I’m sure we still have time.” Cassandra looked to Prudence. “Would you mind going to check?”

“Oh yes, that’s a brilliant idea.” Fiona smiled gratefully at Prudence. “Thank you.”

Prudence nodded before taking herself off with alacrity, while Fiona and Cassandra made their way to the table that was seeking players.

“Don’t tell them you’ve never played before,” Cassandra said softly. “If you get stuck, just nudge me under the table, and I’ll try to help you.”

Fiona clutched Cassandra’s arm more firmly. “I don’t have any money.”

“Don’t worry, I do.” She waggled her eyebrows at Fiona.

They’d arrived at the table where three other ladies had already sat down.

Cassandra made the introductions—at least to the two women she knew—while she and Fiona took their seats. The third was then presented, and everyone exchanged pleasantries.

The dealer tossed three chips onto the center of the table before dealing the cards.

The oldest player, Mrs. Montgomery, on the other side of the table from Fiona, inhaled sharply, her gaze on the doorway. She muttered something that Fiona couldn’t hear, but the woman to her left nodded.

Cassandra picked up her cards and silently told Fiona to do the same, her eyes darting down toward the cards on the table in front of Fiona. Plucking up her hand, Fiona promptly dropped the cards again as soon as she heard the voice behind her.

“Pardon me, but I’ve come to fetch my ward for the musicale.”

Fiona’s blood turned to ice. She slowly turned her head, and her gaze connected with a rather inappropriate area of her guardian. Lifting her chin so she wasn’t staring at his crotch, she looked into his face.

And immediately wished she hadn’t.

His eyes were a positively glacial shade of gray, even though his mouth was curved into a slight smile. There was no humor in it, just a facade meant to convey something opposite to what he was feeling.

For that, she was grateful.

“My goodness, I didn’t realize it was already time.” She turned back to the table. “Forgive me, I must go.” She sent an apologetic glance to Cassandra before standing.

Overton held her chair, then offered her his arm. She would have rather walked out without touching him, but to do so would invite curiosity—and probably his ire. More ire than he already possessed.

Holding her head high and staring straight forward so she didn’t see anyone’s reaction to her being fetched from what appeared to be a ladies-only chamber by her male guardian, Fiona departed the card room on his arm.

Prudence stood just outside, her lips pressed into a firm line and her gaze inscrutable.

Fiona wasn’t sure what had happened, but she didn’t blame Prudence. “I lost track of the time, my lord.”

The earl looked to Prudence. “We’ll join you in the drawing room.”

With a slight nod, Prudence turned and left.

The gallery was empty. Presumably everyone had gone into the drawing room.

Overton pulled her along, then diverted into a small sitting room. He withdrew his arm from her grasp and closed the door.

Fiona turned, her mouth open to apologize, but the earl’s features had grown even stonier since they’d departed the card room.

“Don’t bother saying whatever you meant to say. Just what on earth did you think you were doing?” He shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you angry because I lost track of the time when you told me not to be late to the performance?”

“Yes. I’m also angry because you apparently think it’s acceptable to gamble at loo during said performance.”

“It was my understanding that playing cards, and even gambling, was acceptable, provided the stakes weren’t high.”

“How were you even gambling at all? You have no money.”

“Cassandra has money.”

He wiped his gloved hand over his face. “I am beginning to think Lady Cassandra is a bad influence. I will speak to her brother at once.”

Fiona stepped toward him. “Please don’t do that. I’m sorry I lost track of time,” she repeated, growing frustrated. “It looked like fun, and I‘ve never played cards before.”

Some heat returned to his gaze. “They would have devoured you whole. It’s good that I interrupted you. Sometimes the ladies can be more vicious than the men.” He closed the distance between them, moving to stand directly in front of her. “Miss Wingate, Fiona, you must stop these…antics.”

“I fail to see how?—”

He held up his hand. “Yes, you fail to see anything of import. Your behavior must be absolutely above reproach. A duke’s daughter will be excused for things that you will not. Following Lady Cassandra about will only get you into trouble. Then what will you do?”

She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“What will you do if your reputation is ruined? You won’t be able to marry. Do you want that?”

“I don’t want to get married.” There, she’d said it as plainly as possible, and it felt glorious. A weight lifted off her chest, and she nearly smiled.

His eyes widened and then narrowed. “You’re being foolish and immature. You must marry.”

“Why, because you say so?”

“Would you prefer to return to Bitterley? I’m sure your cousin can still find you a nice country vicar to wed.”

Her blood chilled. “Still?”

“That was his plan before I wrote to him requesting you come to London for the Season.”

Fiona gasped. Her cousin hadn’t told her that. Her shoulders sagged as the victory she’d felt a moment ago evaporated like steam. “Is it terrible that I just want to have some fun for once?”

Exhaling, he rubbed his hand along his jaw. “No. However, you must choose your fun wisely. Visiting the map room at the museum is acceptable. Gambling at loo during a musicale is not.

“I still don’t understand how that will get me into trouble.”

He leaned toward her, and his masculine scent of sandalwood filled the air around her. “Perhaps it won’t, but you aren’t where you’re supposed to be, and that’s when bad things happen.”

A frisson of awareness danced up her spine. She tipped her head back to look up at him and swallowed. “What sort of bad things?”

“Things like you leaving the card room by yourself and being dragged into a room by a gentleman who wishes to take liberties.” His gaze briefly dipped before snapping back to hers.

Her breath caught as her pulse sped. “Like this?”

“I am not taking liberties,” he said softly, his velvet tone making her think he very well could. “Nor would I. You are my ward. That would be highly improper. But you can see how easy it would be for someone to bring you here and kiss you.”

Fiona swallowed again, suddenly feeling warm. He was embarrassing her again. He was quite good at that. Unless it wasn’t embarrassment. Because the image of him kissing her flashed in her mind, causing another blast of heat.

She was definitely blaming embarrassment.

He thankfully interrupted her wayward thoughts. “Then you’d be compromised. And if the gentleman refused to wed, you’d be ruined.”

“I shall be more careful.” Her eyes met his for a charged moment.

Nostrils flaring, the earl took a step back. “You’re damned right you will. And you’ll marry as soon as possible”

She shook her head. “I won’t.”

“You will. You can either find someone here in London or return to Shropshire and become a vicar’s wife. I’ll leave the decision to you.” He took a deep breath and smoothed his hand over his hair. “Let us attend the performance.” He offered her his arm once more.

She glared at him instead of taking it, then she turned and stalked from the room. She wasn’t going to marry anyone, nor was she going to return to Shropshire. There had to be another option.

Fiona just had to discover it.