“Because I was hungry and thought you might be too.” She set the tray on a table near the windows that overlooked Brook Street. “Also, I didn’t want to trouble anyone,” she murmured.

Fiona understood that sentiment. If she wanted something late at night, she never rang for assistance. Indeed, she had trouble ringing for assistance at any time. The fact that she had a maid dedicated to helping her dress and taking care of her things seemed utterly excessive. However, Fiona completely understood—and appreciated—her maid’s expert help with dressing for a ball, not that she needed that again anytime soon.

Fiona and Cassandra joined Prudence at the table where she was sipping lemonade but hadn’t taken a seat.

“Aren’t you staying?” Fiona asked, reaching for a biscuit.

Prudence eyed her and Cassandra guardedly. “That depends on whether you’re actually planning to dress up like gentlemen and steal into the Phoenix Club.”

“Do you have a better idea?” There was an eagerness to Cassandra’s question and a glint in her eye that said she rather hoped Prudence did.

Setting her glass down on the table, Prudence perched on one of the four chairs. “Why are you trying to get inside?”

Cassandra sat across from Prudence. “Because it doesn’t look as though we’ll be able to attend the assemblies. And it will be incredibly diverting.”

Prudence pursed her lips and gave them a disapproving look. “Those don’t seem like very good reasons to take such a risk. I shouldn’t listen to this conversation,” she murmured, starting to rise.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Fiona said firmly. She truly didn’t want to get Prudence into any trouble.

Prudence plucked a biscuit from the tray. “I’ll leave you to your plans.” She glanced toward the door, then lowered her voice. “If it were me, I’d dress up as one of the maids and steal into the women’s side one morning—just act as if I’m going about my work. The maids wear a distinct costume of a gray gown with a dark green apron. And a white cap, of course.” She took a bite of biscuit before turning and departing the drawing room.

Fiona wanted to ask how Prudence knew so much. Also, she still hadn’t inquired as to how Prudence was acquainted with Lord Lucien.

Cassandra sat back in her chair, grinning. “You are so fortunate to have Prudence. What I wouldn’t give for a companion like her. Or any companion,” she added with a sigh.

Was she lonely? Fiona hated to think she might be. She knew how that felt, not that she’d realized that was what she’d been experiencing in Shropshire until she’d come here. Going from a small household, where it was just her and Mrs. Tucket, along with Mr. Woodson who came round regularly to help with things, to this grand house in Mayfair with its large complement of servants, plus Prudence, was just as much of a change as participating in Society.

No, she wouldn’t go back to Bitterley—not now. And if that meant marrying, then she’d find someone tolerable.