What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(105)

Lucy noted Lady Blenborough roll her eyes and unfurl her fan. “Please get on with the lesson,” she said curtly.

“Lucy,” Buckley said, clapping his hands. “Do not dally.”

She turned her attention to Prudence. “Watch me the first time,” Lucy said. “This is the chassé step. Right foot forward takes the weight; the following foot closes behind.” Lucy regarded the girl. “Now you may try.”

Prudence just stood there and chewed on her thumbnail, until her mother, Lady Blenborough, spoke sharply. “Prudence, attend.”

The sharp command startled Prudence. She tried, but when she closed the back foot, she landed heavily with a thump on the floor.

Lucy knew how important it was for Prudence to learn the steps. One simply could not get on well in society without learning to dance gracefully. Years ago, when her mother was still alive and life was easier, Lucy had danced at many a country assembly. Moving her limbs lightly through the steps made her feel temporarily carefree. Most of all, dancing brought back happy memories of her mother teaching her and other children in the neighborhood how to dance.

“Once more,” Lucy said. “I know you can do it, Prudence. Watch and imitate.”

Twice Prudence landed heavily and looked at her feet with a miserable expression.

“Imagine you are as light as a bird,” Lucy whispered to her. “Chassé close.”

Prudence hopped onto her right foot, wobbled, and fell on her bottom.

Lucy hurried to help the girl rise. The stains on Prudence’s cheeks bespoke humiliation.

“Mr. Buckley, I fear my daughter is hopeless,” Lady Blenborough said in a disgusted tone she didn’t bother to hide.

“Not at all, Lady Blenborough,” Buckley said, his voice oily in his attempts to soothe. “Here, allow me to demonstrate with my assistant. “Lucy,” he said, snapping his fingers.

She knew what was coming and braced herself. He stood behind her and his foul breath on her neck made her want to shiver. When he attempted to move closer, she knew he would try to touch her. She pretended to misunderstand and performed the steps. Chassé close, chassé close, chassé close. Lucy ended with a graceful plié.

“Prudence,” Lady Blenborough said, “try again.”

The girl had wandered over to the sideboard and her mother’s voice startled her again. Guilt was written all over her face as she held her hands behind her back.

Lady Blenborough rose. Her eyes narrowed as she yanked her daughter’s hand forward. Sweetmeats scattered all over the floor.

“If you wish to make a pig of yourself, Prudence, then do so. I wash my hands of you,” Lady Blenborough said.

Lucy winced as tears spilled down Prudence’s face.

“My lady,” Buckley said. “Do not despair. I am sure we will make a dancer of Prudence yet.”

“I’m done with her dance lessons,” Lady Blenborough said. “She is nothing but an embarrassment to me.”

Lucy bit her lip. She wished she could help Prudence. With patience, the girl could learn to execute the steps, but her mother obviously had taken a disgust of her daughter. With a sigh, Lucy could not help thinking of her own sweet mother’s patience with all of her dance students and wished she were still alive.

The dancing lesson ended, and Lucy looked past Buckley’s shoulder when he took her by the upper arm. “I’m docking your pay. See that you do not consort with the servants again,” he hissed. Then he handed over half the coins that were due her. Lucy held in the anger threatening to boil over and bobbed a curtsy. Then she hurried out of the servant’s entrance. It wasn’t the first time he’d found an excuse to reduce her pay, but it still infuriated her.

She must find other employment. Starting today, she would find a better job. There was much she didn’t have, but she was smart and educated. All she needed was one person to give her a chance. Lucy was determined to make a better life for herself and her grandmama. If there was a way, she would find it.

She walked quickly until she came to King Street, where a boy was handing out notices in front of assembly rooms. “Servers needed for Almack’s. Wednesday nights,” the boy called out. “Must be clean and polite.”

Lucy snatched one of the papers. An older gentleman dressed in elegant clothing opened the doors. Lucy ran to him and bobbed a curtsy. “Sir, I understand servers are needed. I’d be obliged if you would consider me.”

“I’m Mr. Woodward, master of ceremonies,” he said. “Come inside.”

She followed him and curtsied again. “I’m a hard worker, sir.”

“You have a refined accent, young lady.”

“I’m educated, sir, but my family has fallen on hard times.” She swallowed. “If it pleases you, Mr. Woodward, I would be much obliged if you would consider me.”

“Come to the back door on Wednesday in a sennight at seven sharp in the evening,” Mr. Woodward said. “You mustn’t be late. The Lady Patronesses are unforgiving.”

“I won’t be late. Thank you, sir.”

Elated at the opportunity, she started to turn away when Mr. Woodward cleared his throat. “Miss, what is your name?”

She turned back to him. “Lucy Longmore, sir.”

He took her hand and set coins in her palm. Then he closed her fingers over them.