“And they are allowed to enter the men’s side on Tuesdays.”
“We can’t be members?” Fiona was certain the answer was no but wanted to be sure she’d understood everything correctly.
Cassandra shook her head. “We must be married or widowed.” She pursed her lips a moment. “Or perhaps we can be spinsters. I can’t recall. In any case, an assembly is the only time we can see the interior, and we’ll be kept to the ladies’ half of the building and the ballroom, which is shared with the men’s side. We are not allowed to visit any other part of the men’s portion. What I wouldn’t give to see all of it, but especially the men’s side, where my brother reigns supreme. Or so I imagine.”
“Perhaps there’s a way for us to steal inside,” Fiona suggested with a grin.
Cassandra laughed, a devilish glint in her eye. “I do like how you think.” She sobered and cast a glance toward Prudence. “I really hope you don’t gossip.”
“I do not,” Prudence said. “That would be a most unwelcome trait in a companion.”
“I assure you, she’s completely trustworthy.” Fiona smiled at Prudence just as the door opened.
The maid had returned with a plate of biscuits. She was also followed by two guests.
“Here you are, my lady.” The maid offered the plate to Cassandra, who plucked a biscuit from the top.
“Thank you so very much. These are my favorite.” Giving the maid a bright smile, Cassandra nibbled the biscuit before rising.
Fiona also stood. Taking a biscuit for herself, she silently asked Prudence if she wanted one by inclining her head. Prudence gave a slight negative shake. Then the three of them quit the retiring room.
By the time they’d returned to the ballroom, Fiona was feeling even more excited about the Season ahead. It wasn’tjust because of all the places Cassandra had mentioned, it was finding Cassandra. A friend.
After several more dances, multiple glasses of warm lemonade, and making the acquaintance of more people than she could ever recall, Fiona made her way to the coach on aching toes. Lady Pickering said good night and went to her own carriage, while Fiona, Prudence, and the earl climbed into his.
Fiona and Prudence situated themselves, and Overton sat on the rear-facing seat. He reached up and loosened his cravat the barest amount. Fiona suspected he would like to remove it entirely, but to do so would probably be improper.
“What did you think of your first ball?” the earl asked.
“I’m glad it was smaller. There is so much to remember. Particularly the dancing.”
He chuckled. “You’ll get better.”
“I should have practiced more.”
“Perhaps I should have practiced with you. My apologies.” He leaned back against the seat. “Did you have a favorite dance partner?”
“Mr. Rowntree, I think. He was the most adept at avoiding my missteps.”
“That bad, eh?” the earl asked, wincing. “I really am sorry I didn’t help you prepare. We’ll do that before the next ball.”
“Speaking of the next ball, I heard about the Friday assemblies at the Phoenix Club. Will we attend one?”
His gaze arrested on hers. “No.”
Disappointment doused Fiona’s enthusiasm. Cassandra had quite provoked her anticipation to attend. “Are you not a member?”
“I am. A founding one, in fact. Lady Pickering, however, is not, and as your sponsor, she would need to accompany you.”
“Why isn’t she a member? Cassandra made the club sound quite popular. I would imagine she would belong.”
He hesitated in answering. “I’m not sure. You’d have to ask her.”
“Can someone else sponsor me for that assembly?”
Again, he took his time answering. “Let me think on that. The first one isn’t until the first Friday in March.” He folded his arms over his chest and studied her for a moment, the light from the lantern hanging in the coach casting a warm glow over the planes of his face. “Finding someone to sponsor you—indeed, retaining Lady Pickering as your sponsor—will depend upon your behavior.”
Fiona’s pulse quickened. “Did I do something wrong tonight?”