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Miss Coventry dismissed a weary looking Jane then turned to face Edward. “Thank you for seeing us home.”

He nodded. “You’re certain you shall be able to sneak in without notice?”

“My family will be at the ball for another hour or two. Papa always encourages them to stay late to maximize the chances of Beatrice making a match.”

Edward nodded. At least she appeared confident in her ability to predict where her family would be. He himself was unsure that he would arrive the next morning without Mr. Coventry awaiting him with a pitchfork and flaming torch. What would Edward say to his mother if he returned home without the finances to secure their future?

“Mr. Steele,” Miss Coventry said, breaking through his troubling thoughts, “I wish to thank you for what you’ve done for me today. I know how much you risked in doing so, and I wish I could tell you…” She broke off, shaking her head. “Your kindness will never be forgotten.”

He stared down at her, only the shadows on her face visible. How he longed to share what the day had meant to him as well, how he’d loved every moment he’d spent with her. Despite the risks, despite his fears of what may come…how could he regret the moments they’d shared?

But he could not complicate matters further with words. Instead, he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a lingering kiss to the back of her glove. “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Hickenbottom.”

Even in the darkness, her smile lit her face. “Goodnight, Mr. Higgenbottom.”

Edward reluctantly released her hand. He motioned toward the house. “I’ll wait until you are safely inside.”

She nodded her gratitude then made for her home.

Edward did as he said, standing watch until the front door closed behind her.

Then reality sprawled its imposing figure once more across his shoulders. That woman deserved the world. Her father truly was a fool to keep her in.

And Edward was a fool for taking her out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Edward Steele had kissed her hand.

Marianne had lain awake in bed that night, revisiting the moment over and over until she’d fallen asleep, only to awaken at dawn to the very same image bidding her good morning.

She knew not to dwell on Mr. Steele’s affection, nor to place too much meaning onto his lingering kiss, but she could not help herself. Yesterday had been perfection, and it was all because of Mr. Steele.

Before long, she rose from bed, ready to begin her schedule. Then she stopped. What reason had she to follow her routine? She had no unpleasant thoughts from which to distract herself, nor was she seeking busyness. Perhaps a little walk would do her good, though. Somewhere spontaneous. Like the library.

With a veiled smile, she tugged on the bell pull, Jane arriving only moments later.

“You are here already?” she asked as the maid entered the room.

Jane didn’t respond, a wary crease in her brow. “Your father wishes to speak with you, miss, in his study.”

Marianne’s heart dropped, a chill filling her to the core. She had been right the night before. Her family had still been at the ball when she’d arrived home, and she and Jane had fortunately been able to sneak into Daffley without notice. Or at least, so she’d thought. “Does he know?”

“I can’t say for certain, miss. According to Mr. Morley, Mr. Coventry hasn’t been happy of late, this morning included.”

“Did anyone see you last night when you entered?”

“No, miss. My sister covered for the both of us.”

Marianne nodded solemnly. Of course Father knew. Why else would he be calling her to his study when he’d never once done so before? She’d been naïve to think she could do something so reckless without notice. It mattered not how he had discovered the truth. What mattered was the repercussions that would surely follow.

“Worry not, Jane. I will ensure your situation at Daffley does not change, nor that of your sister.” Mr. Steele’s, too.

Jane nodded, though her brow remained wrinkled.

After helping her dress, Jane left the room with a sympathetic grimace, and Marianne followed shortly after, moving as slowly as possible through the corridors toward Father’s study.

She would graciously accept whatever consequences Father deemed fair. But in regard to those who helped her, she would not rest until she was certain they would not be punished for their involvement. She’d never forgive herself if they were, for clearly, no one was at fault for this masquerade but herself.