Page 217 of From Rakes to Riches

Mrs. Renshaw smiled but didn’t show her teeth. She was a very attractive woman. In addition to the comforting quality about her, there was a sophistication that made her seem older than she probably was. Fiona didn’t think she could ever attain such an attribute.

“I would know if he had.” Mrs. Renshaw still didn’t seem even slightly bothered by what had happened or that Fiona was trying to lie. “You are not a maid here,” she repeated, “so who are you then?” She sat on the settee, her back straight, and fixed Fiona with an expectant stare.

Fiona realized the time for prevarication had passed. She perched on the middle chair that was directly opposite Mrs. Renshaw. “I am Miss Fiona Wingate, ward to Lord Overton.”

Mrs. Renshaw’s dark brows arched briefly before settling back into their gentle curves. “I see.” To her credit, she didn’t say a thing about them kissing.

Oh God, they’d beenkissing.

“And why are you here dressed like a maid?” Mrs. Renshaw prompted.

“I, ah, wanted to see the inside of the club. It was a terribly foolish endeavor. I’m rather new to town.”

“Yes, I’ve heard you mentioned. You hail from Shropshire?”

“A very small village there. I have no experience with…” Fiona looked about before continuing. “Any of this.”

“So you thought dressing like a Phoenix Club maid and stealing inside to have a look around would somehow help with your experience?”

“Er, I suppose.” Fiona again wondered about Cassandra. They’d clearly gone separate ways when they’d heard the voices on the men’s side. While Fiona had walked straight into her guardian, Cassandra had gone…where? “I wanted to see the inside of the club. It was a lark. And a foolish one at that. What is going to happen now?” Fiona plucked at the edge of her apron.

“Now that I know who you are, I’ll make sure you’re delivered to Lord Overton’s house.”

“Should I wait for him?” She didn’t really want to face him at the moment, but she would have to eventually. Unless he directed her return to Shropshire without even seeing or speaking to her. Fiona could imagine him doing that and indeed wondered if that’s what she deserved. After impersonating a maid and, even worse, kissing him.

“No, you needn’t wait. I imagine you’ll discuss this…matter at home.” She exhaled, and her brow creased.

“Am I ruined?” Fiona hated that she was so naïve about these things. The earl had talked about ruination, but what did that mean exactly?

“I don’t think so. It doesn’t appear anyone got a good look at you or knows who you are, and your secret is completely safe with me. I would never want to contribute to another woman’s downfall.” She smiled kindly at Fiona. “The scandal of what happened in the garden will rest solely on Lord Overton.”

Horror spread through Fiona. She clutched the arms of the chair in a knuckle-whitening grip. “It was a scandal?”

“He was seen kissing a maid. Yes, that’s a scandal. My goodness, youarenew to town, aren’t you? Gentlemen shouldn’t be kissing maids out in the open.” Her eyes narrowed. “They shouldn’t be kissing them at all, really, but that’s a topic for another day. Overton’s reputation will suffer for it, which is too bad since he’s been working so hard to repair it.”

“What’s wrong with his reputation?”

Mrs. Renshaw blinked. “Perhaps I should leave that between you.”

Fiona sat forward in the chair, which meant she almost slid to the floor. She grasped the arms even more tightly. “He won’t tell me.” She wasn’t entirely certain of that, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask. She did, however, need to know what the woman meant. “He’s an earl. What could be wrong with his reputation?”

“Overton is a rake. Rather,wasa rake. He’s been trying to rehabilitate himself, and he’d been doing so well.” She frowned briefly. “He gave up his mistress, and he’s spent several evenings at White’s in the company of Lucien’s brother.” Mrs. Renshaw squared her shoulders and gave her head a shake. “He’s been attempting to demonstrate his worthiness, that he’s left his roguish behavior in the past now that he’s the earl.”

And she’d ruined it. Fiona pressed her hand to her mouth. She’d utterly devastated his hard work. A chill raced over her as she lowered her hand to her lap. “How will this affect him?”

“I would say it would not since so few people witnessed what happened, however Lady Hargrove can’t resist a piece of gossip if she thinks it’s helpful to others. And in this case, she will undoubtedly think so because Overton is hunting for a wife. She’ll see it as her duty to ensure his prospective brides know that he is still carrying on with other women.”

Fiona wanted to cup her face in her hands, but she made herself sit straight and still. “I feel terrible. What can I do?”

“Nothing, nor would he want you to. If you were recognized, you would be ruined. And while the earl can survive this—socially—you would not. It would also reflect rather poorly on him since he is your guardian. Many would think he took advantage.” Mrs. Renshaw’s nostrils flared. “Did he?”

“Not at all,” Fiona said quickly. “I kissed him.” Then he’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back.

“I see. Well, if there is something between you, I encourage you to determine what that is with the utmost haste.” Mrs. Renshaw scooted forward and reached across the space to graze her fingers against the back of Fiona’s hand. “Don’t fret. I can see you blame yourself for what happened, but Lord Overton is a grown man. While you did err in coming here, what happened was just an unfortunate turn of events.”

Mrs. Renshaw stood. “Now, let’s get you home. I’ll hail a hack to deliver you.”

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

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