The conflict flared inside her as it had since the day before. Fiona was at once excited by the prospect of inheriting an estate and deeply troubled by Tobias’s loss of what would have been his most cherished possession.

Prudence made a sound, startling Fiona. She looked over and saw that Prudence had stood from the settee. Fiona scrambled to do the same as a flush of embarrassment washed up her neck.

Mrs. Tucket did not get up. “Pardon me for not standing, my lady,” she said. “My hip is bothering me more than usual today.”

“You must be Miss Wingate’s maid from Shropshire,” the countess said, her gaze assessing as it moved over Mrs. Tucket, then Prudence, and finally Fiona. “And you must be Miss Wingate.”

Fiona dipped into a curtsey. “Good afternoon, my lady.”

“I hope you aren’t going to fall down as you did at the queen’s drawing room.”

“I shall try not to.” Fiona rose and waited for the dowager to settle into a chair before retaking her place on the settee next to Prudence. “Allow me to introduce my companion, Miss Lancaster.”

The dowager looked toward Prudence, her lips pursing. “You’re too pretty to be a companion.”

Prudence’s cheeks turned a faint pink, something Fiona had never seen before. “Thank you, my lady,” Prudence murmured.

“How fortunate you all are to be here,” the dowager announced. “I imagine it must feel quite extraordinary to be part of an earl’s household.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Tucket said quickly. “It’s overwhelming, if I’m being honest. I’m looking forward to getting back to Shropshire.”

The dowager smiled faintly. “And when will that be?”

Mrs. Tucket shrugged. “Not until Fiona decides she doesn’t need me.”

“I shall always need you,” Fiona said warmly.

“What about you, Miss Wingate?” the dowager asked. “How are you finding London? Is the Season everything you hoped it would be?”

“Not really,” Fiona said honestly. “I was looking forward to exploring London, but I’ve been more restricted in my activities than I anticipated.”

“Of course you are, dear. It’s London, not some backwater village in Shropshire.”

Fiona tried not to take offense. The way she was raised was likely as foreign to the dowager as London had been to Fiona when she’d first arrived. “Once the weather is warmer, there will be more to do and see.”

“You’d be less restricted if you were wed. What are your plans on that front?”

“She has attracted the attention of the son of a marquess!” Mrs. Tucket beamed proudly.

The dowager cocked her head as she surveyed Fiona. “The heir?”

Fiona clarified, “No, his second son, Lord Gregory Blakemore.”

“Witney’s spare.” The dowager pursed her lips again. “He’s an academic with an eye toward obtaining a living in the church, isn’t that right?”

“It is,” Fiona said. “You are well informed.”

“Just because I’m not in town doesn’t mean I don’t keep up on everything.” Evidently, since she’d mentioned Fiona’s mishap in front of the queen. “Who else has caught your eye?”