you can dance with her without causing an outright scandal is twice. Even twice will get some of these ladies’ tongues wagging.”
“I’ll dance with her twice. If there is some kind of emergency—if someone asks her one too many questions—I will dance with her a third time. At any rate, Miss Morgan wants tongues wagging.”
“You are not being reasonable. You are only to show her interest and ignore Miss Morgan. A scandal would cause the Morgans to turn away from you completely. Not that I would mind, but I don’t want you running from one wrong person to the next. Marriage to a maid would be disastrous.”
“You do know our own mother was a maid.”
“And you know she would be the first person to expect more from you.”
She was right. Sophia was always right. Mother had always wanted him to marry and live well. But he was not well suited to subterfuge. And neither was the maid he had picked to share his role in it. She wouldn’t lie. He finally gave into the pressure and aggressively rubbed his temples. In any other situation, he would have found Patience’s honesty admirable, but not here. Why hadn’t she mentioned her refusal to lie when they were coming up with the plan?
A peal of laughter softly floated to him over the sound of the quartet. Like bells in the wind, it was carefree and cheerful. Certainly enough, it came from his maid. What kind of maid laughed like that? Maids should have nondescript laughs, not the kind that carried across a ballroom like a salty breeze from the ocean.
Stewart and Patience glided across the ballroom in a graceful, easy pattern. His fingers were splayed above her waist, her hand on his shoulder. Other dancers seemed to take care and move out of their way, sensing the superior couple.
“Well she told the truth about dancing, at least,” Sophia said. He had almost forgotten she was there. “She and Mr. Fairchild dance beautifully. And he seems quite taken with her. In the future, you should not bring her to any event where he will be present. I can’t help but think that would be easiest.”
She couldn’t have captivated his friend so quickly, with only one dance. But as the music ended and Stewart led her back toward them, Anthony could see it. The interest and intrigue. A smile passed between them, Patience’s comfortable and inclusive. It spread across her face as naturally as the morning sun spread across his study every day. A maid should not be able to play this part so well. And yet, somehow, the one person in the room who should have been the least comfortable and the most insecure was creating a jealous buzz among the women and dazzling his close friend. He would have to put a stop to that.
***
For a first waltz, Patience thought it had gone very well. She hadn’t danced since her father passed away, but her years of lessons in preparation for coming out had returned soon after taking the first step. It didn’t hurt that Mr. Fairchild was an excellent dancer and conversationalist.
She glanced toward Mr. Woodsworth and his sister. Neither of them was smiling, and she didn’t know why. Truthfully, it had gone quite well. In fact, she would have to thank Mr. Woodsworth for the opportunity of coming to this ball after all. He had seemed so excited about the dress and the chance for her to live like a lady, and she hadn’t fully appreciated it. She did now. Having that first dance in society over with, and with someone who had nothing to gain from her position, was a gift she would have to find a way to repay.
They reached the spot where the siblings were waiting, and she gave both of them her largest smile. “Thank you for bringing me here. Mr. Woodsworth, you were correct. I believe some of my dreams have been fulfilled this evening.”
“You promised her dreams would be fulfilled?” Mr. Fairchild asked. His eyebrows rose, and a comfortable grin spread across his face. “Why have you never mentioned Miss Smith before? She is delightful.” He turned to Patience “I hope you have returned to London to stay. Surely you have more dreams to fulfill.”
“She hasn’t.” Mr. Woodsworth spoke up before she could answer.
“I can speak for myself.”
“Of course you can, but you probably shouldn’t, now should you?”
Oh dear. Mrs. Jorgensen had told him about her inability to lie.
Mr. Fairchild’s smile faltered, and he narrowed