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 been kissing.

“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, you are new 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.”