“Mr. Fairchild,” Anthony began, “this is Miss Smith. Miss Smith, this is a great friend of mine, Mr. Stewart Fairchild.”
Stewart bowed, and Patience dropped in an elegant curtsy. She kept her eyes on Stewart, and the effect made her neck lengthen. With no auburn curls clinging to it and distracting him, Anthony couldn’t help but notice its gracefulness.
“And where are you from, Miss Smith?” Stewart smiled and leaned toward Patience.
Sophia’s eyes went wide. She glanced back and forth between Stewart and Anthony with a slight shake of her head. Something was about to go wrong.
Patience didn’t seem worried. “London,” she replied with a pert nod of her head.
“London?” Stewart gave Anthony a confused look. “Anthony said you would only be here for a week or so.”
“Did he?” Patience asked with a raised eyebrow.
Anthony sent her a strong nod, yes.
“I am from London, but I don’t always live in town.” She smiled that calm, sweet smile once again, and if Stewart had a follow-up question, he’d clearly forgotten it.
Stewart cleared his throat. “I would be much obliged if you would dance with me. The first is a waltz, and if you haven’t been spoken for”—he eyed Anthony—“it would be my honor to lead you to the dance floor.”
“I would be delighted.” Patience turned her head and smiled at Anthony, and for the first time, he noticed a black, round spot above her left cheek bone. A beauty spot? What was Sophia thinking?
Stewart led Patience away, her gloved hand wrapped delicately around the crook of his elbow. Was it just his imagination, or was Stewart standing straighter than he usually did? Hopefully this charade would be over sooner rather than later. The last thing in the world Anthony wanted was to hurt his friend.
Anthony pulled Sophia aside. “How was her dancing? Will she be able to waltz?”
“She assured me she would.” Sophia looked unconcerned.
“She assured you she would?” Anthony resisted rubbing his face. Tension was building up behind his eyes. It was the feeling he would get just before the end of a large land deal for Father. That moment when he was certain everything that could go wrong would. “You didn’t test her? Where would a servant learn the waltz?”
“She said she learned it in the last home she lived in.”
“As a servant?”
“You don’t think servants ever find the time to dance?”
“When would they? And with whom? You think stable hands and valets are interested in the waltz?”
“It really isn’t terribly difficult. Stewart will be able to help her if she is hesitant. As I remember it, he is a terrific dancer.”
Oh, Sophia remembered correctly. Stewart was well known for being light on his feet. Anthony narrowed his eyes at the couple. They had reached the center of the dance floor. Stewart never bothered with perimeters. Whether Patience had been telling the truth about dancing or not, the whole room was about to find out.
Sophia touched his elbow lightly and then pulled away. “I would have pressed her on the waltz, but unfortunately, we had a much more urgent matter to discuss.”
“Such as . . . ?” The tightness behind his eyes intensified. He needed to lie down in a dark room, but it would be hours before he had the chance.
“She won’t lie, Anthony. You’ve picked a maid to pretend to be a lady, and she refuses to lie. She agreed to Mary Smith only because we would be the ones doing the introducing. If someone asks for her name directly, I have no idea what she will do.”
“What?”
Sophia stepped closer, her nose almost in Anthony’s face. “She won’t lie,” she repeated again, slowly. “She claims she isn’t capable of it.”
What the devil had Miss Morgan gotten him into? The music began, and Stewart led Patience in a smooth, soft arc, his hand at her waist and the smile he reserved for his closest friends on his face. If he asked one wrong question . . .
“I’ll have to dance with her the rest of the evening.”
“That would be as good as a marriage proposal. And with your marked attention to Miss Morgan for the past two years, there would be a scandal.”
“We can’t have her dancing with every man in the room. Who knows what she will say?”
“The most 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.