Page 44 of When You Rescued Me

Romford dipped his head. “Right away, Miss Dennington.”

Setting aside her book, Hannah stood. There was no reason to feel nervous. Mr. Ross would see no change in her since this morning, except perhaps a few extra wrinkles in her gown. She ran her hands down the blue silk fabric and took a deep breath. Mr. Ross was here on business. That was all.

“Mr. Ross,” Romford announced from the doorway. He stood aside, and Mr. Ross entered.

Vaguely aware of Fanny slipping in behind him, Hannah smiled and inclined her head in greeting. “Mr. Ross, this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Two social missteps in one day, Miss Dennington,” he said. “I hope you will not consider me a lost cause.”

She laughed. “Not at all. But I’m afraid my father is unavailable at present. He is under doctor’s orders to rest for a few hours in the afternoon, and my sister Elinor insists that he adheres to every single one of the doctor’s rules.”

Mr. Ross smiled, and Hannah realized that she had been hoping he would. The simple act made him look younger and even more handsome.

“I stick by my earlier remark about your father’s good fortune in having such attentive daughters.”

“That is very generous of you. He misses my mother a great deal, but we do our best to henpeck him as well as we possibly can.”

His soft chuckle indicated that he also remembered her father’s complaint.

She hesitated, reluctant to move away from their enjoyable interaction to something undoubtedly less pleasant. “Romford said you were hoping to speak with my father. Is there a message I can relay to him? Or anything I can help with?”

His expression instantly became more guarded. “There is something.” He darted a quick look at Fanny. The maid was standing patiently in the corner. Hannah knew her to be fully trustworthy, but Mr. Ross was obviously reluctant to speak in front of her.

“Fanny,” she said, “would you please sit in the chair closest to you and stick your fingers in your ears.”

Fanny stared at her. “Put me fingers in me ears, miss?”

“Yes. I shall signal you when you can unplug them.”

With typical obedience, Fanny slid onto the Windsor chair at her left and inserted a finger in each ear.

Hannah smothered a smile at the sight. “Does that help, Mr. Ross?” she asked.

“Yes. It does, rather.” He shook off his bemused expression and straightened his shoulders. “I wish I could conceive of a polite way of asking this, Miss Dennington, but it seems to be beyond me, so I shall be blunt. I am in need of an invitation to Lady Telford’s ball. I was hoping your father would be willing to include me in your party. In addition, I require dance instruction, and I wondered if you knew of anyone who would be willing to devote a few hours during the next fortnight to teaching me some basic steps.”

Hannah had not had enough time to speculate upon exactly why Mr. Ross had returned, but she never would have conceived of this. Asking Fanny to sit in the parlor with her fingers in her ears no longer seemed absurd. In fact, it seemed quite ordinary when compared to Mr. Ross’s requests. “Why would you think to come here for those things?”

Mr. Ross’s stance had yet to relax. “This morning, you mentioned your intention to attend the ball. At the time, I had no notion that it would be necessary for me to also be there.”

“But after your meeting, that changed?” she guessed.

“Yes.”

She waited, but when he said nothing more, she gestured toward the sofa. “Please. Sit down. I can order some tea.”

“Forgive me,” he said, his regret obvious. “I am limited in how much I can share.”

“I understand.” Hannah took her seat and hoped he would do the same. “Tell me what you can.”

Removing his hat, he lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa. “There is no need to send for tea.”

“Or ginger biscuits?”

He shook his head ruefully. “Regrettably, no. Once again, I cannot stay long.”

“Is there somewhere else that you must be?”

He gave a troubled sigh. “In addition to securing a dance instructor, I must also visit a tailor on Savile Row as soon as possible.”