Improper

by Darcy Burke

  Fiona briefly pressed her hand to her lips and met his gaze. “They don’t really call themselves that.”

  He shook his head. “That’s what others call them.”

  “Those who aren’t invited, I’d wager.” The Star Chamber was not exactly a favorable term. It also inferred secrecy. “Who is on this committee?”

  “No one knows for sure, but Lord Lucien is obviously a member since he owns the club. Or one would assume anyway.”

  “I think that’s a fair assumption. The rest are secret?”

  “The ladies’ side has four patronesses, and it is also presumed they are on the committee.”

  “Who are these patronesses?” Fiona wondered if they could be petitioned to somehow allow her and Cassandra entry to a ball. Perhaps one of them would be willing to act as a sponsor. She had no idea if any of that was even possible, but why not try?

  “Mrs. Renshaw is one of them. She oversees the ladies’ side in much the way Lord Lucien manages the gentlemen’s. Lord Lucien explained that much to me last evening.”

  Mrs. Renshaw. Fiona would speak with Cassandra about her as soon as possible.

  “I think you should feel flattered that you’ve been invited,” Fiona said.

  He didn’t immediately respond. She looked at his profile, his long, dark blond lashes sweeping down as he blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I suppose I do. I am not, ah, typically at the top of anyone’s list when it comes to social opportunities.” A faint shade of pink briefly swathed his upper cheekbones. “I probably shouldn’t have admitted that to you.”

  “Nonsense, I’m glad you did. I can wholeheartedly understand your position. I may be the ward of an earl, but I’m from a small village in Shropshire, and I’ve never been anywhere before. Then yesterday I was presented to the queen.”

  “That’s quite an advancement.” He grinned at her, and she acknowledged he was rather handsome. “This is really my first Season too. I’ve spent the last several years teaching at Christ Church College at Oxford.”

  “How fascinating. What did you teach?”

  “Religious studies. I’m intending to become a vicar, though my father hopes I’ll be a bishop one day.”

  “Do you want that?”

  The pink returned to his cheeks. “Honestly? Yes.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I admitted that to you. It’s rather immodest, isn’t it?”

  She laughed. “No, it is not. Ambition isn’t bad, even for a man of God.”

  “God might disagree,” he said drily.

  “Except I’m sure your ambition is entwined with your desire to advance the word of God.”

  “The Phoenix Club is a distant second to you when it comes to flattery, Miss Wingate.” He sent her a slightly sardonic look. “Perhaps I’m the type of religious man who only wants to find a living so that I may reap the benefits and will employ a curate who does all the work.”

  “Well, that sounds like the vicar in Bitterley.” Fiona thought of poor young Tom Keeble, the curate. The vicar didn’t do a thing beyond sermonizing, and he only did that once a month, leaving the rest to Tom. “I realize we just met, but I can’t see you doing that. And if you did, you certainly wouldn’t admit it. Nor would you think twice about accepting membership in London’s most exclusive club.”

  He laughed. “You are a most logical young lady, Miss Wingate.”

  “Why thank you, my lord.”

  Fiona’s gaze connected with a familiar pair of pewter eyes. Lord Overton stood to her left, his attention focused wholly on her. His expression was inscrutable, but something about his stance made her catch her breath.

  Why?

  Recovering her wits, she smiled at him and lifted her hand, not quite waving.

  “See someone you know?” Lord Gregory asked.

  “My guardian, Lord Overton. Are you acquainted with him?”

  Lord Gregory shook his head. “I am not, but being relatively new to town, there are many people I haven’t yet met.”

  “If you accept the invitation to the Phoenix Club, you will undoubtedly get to know him there. He’s a member, and a close friend of Lord Lucien’s.” She looked over at him. “Are you going to accept?”

  “I think I might, owing to your counsel.”

  “I don’t think you’ll regret it.” Fiona noted the musicians were preparing to start the next set.

  “I think it’s time we made our way to the dance floor,” Lord Gregory noted.

  She hesitated, casting him an apologetic glance. “I should warn you that I’m not very good.”

  He didn’t appear concerned in the least. “I’m sure you’re more than accomplished.”

  “Aside from only recently learning most of these dances, I am apparently clumsy, a trait I hadn’t noticed before coming to London.”

  He led her onto the dancefloor. “Surely you’re mistaken. Or exaggerating.”

  She let go of his arm and faced him. Arching her brow, she looked him square in the eye. “I fell down yesterday while curtseying to the queen.”

  His eyes rounded with horror. “That was you?”

  Of course, he’d heard the story. Fiona had noticed people staring at her tonight.

  “It was indeed.”

  “And here you are tonight without a shred of embarrassment. You are a most astonishing young woman, Miss Wingate.”

  Smiling, she inclined her head. “I hope you still think so at the end of the set.”

  It was the best she’d ever danced. She looked graceful and confident, and, most importantly, like she was having a grand time. So did her partner. Tobias diverted his attention from her and made his way to Lucien, who was standing with Miss Lancaster.

  “Not dancing this set?” Lucien asked. “I expected you to have a full dance card.”

  “Allow me to just get it out and show you,” Tobias said sarcastically. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

  Lucien let out a laugh. “I’ll pretend you didn’t ask that. Why are you in a mood?”

  Was he? Tobias stroked his hand down his jawline. “I see you introduced Lord Gregory to Miss Wingate.”

  “That was the plan, wasn’t it?” Lucien stared at him as if he’d gone daft.

  Tobias glanced toward Miss Lancaster, who would likely repeat anything she overheard to Miss Wingate. Smiling, he begged her to excuse them before motioning to Lucien to walk with him.

  “What’s going on with you?” Lucien asked as they left Miss Lancaster.

  “I don’t want to discuss Miss Wingate in front of her companion. I assumed that would be obvious.” Tobias waved his hand. “There’s been a change in plan. I’m not pushing my ward into marriage. As you so helpfully suggested the other night, I’m giving her a break from this sudden turmoil in her life.”

  “Is this because she fell down in the queen’s drawing room yesterday?”

  Tobias heard the humor in his voice and sent him a glower. “That was very traumatic.” Except she was laughing about it now, so perhaps it wasn’t. “But no, it’s not because of that. Not specifically.” He brushed his fingertips across his forehead.

  “You’ve come to like Miss Wingate very much,” Lucien remarked softly. “That’s very kind of you to give her a reprieve—just the opposite of what your father would do, in case you hadn’t already noted that.”

  “I hadn’t, but that does endorse the change in tactic, doesn’t it?” Tobias came to a stop and pivoted to face the dance floor where dozens of dancers were moving in concert, including Miss Wingate. “For now, it’s best that I focus on my own marriage goals instead of Miss Wingate’s.”

  “Your time is dwindling, isn’t it?”

  Tobias shot him another dark stare. “Thank you for pointing that out.” He scanned the ballroom and found Miss Goodfellow lingering in the corner with her mother. Good, he’d ask her to dance when he finished with Lucien. Looking to his friend, he asked, “What was the name of the widow you suggested to me?”

  “Lady Alford, but she’s already ac
cepted a proposal. Lord Pettiford got there first, I’m afraid.”

  “That was bloody fast.”

  “Perhaps you should consult with Lord Pettiford for advice on how to move more quickly.”

  Annoyed, Tobias stared at Lucien. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t haul you into the garden and plant you a facer.”

  “Because I’ll give you one right back, and then you’ll be horribly unattractive to your prospective brides.” Lucien grinned, clearly enjoying needling Tobias about his wife hunt.

  With a low grunt, Tobias started to turn. “Your company has been most helpful this evening. I’m off to speed up my endeavors.”

  Lucien snagged his sleeve. “Wait just a moment, if you don’t mind.”

  Exhaling, Tobias gave him his full attention.

  “Cassandra has asked me to invite our aunt to the Phoenix Club so that she may act as sponsor for Cassandra to attend a ball. And for Miss Wingate, since Lady Pickering has never responded to our invitation.” He spoke in a near whisper, and Tobias moved closer so no one would overhear their conversation.

  “Should we be discussing this in a ballroom?” Tobias asked softly. Who was and wasn’t invited to the Phoenix Club was a topic of great debate and inquiry. Anyone overhearing even a snippet of this conversation would most certainly crow about it.

  Lucien lowered his voice even more. “No, but it’s an urgent matter.”

  “You want to extend the invitation immediately?” Tobias smiled as he shook his head. “You are impossibly devoted to your sister.” He often wished he had a sibling for whom he could care about in that way. Perhaps he should try to think of Miss Wingate in that manner. Yes, a younger sister he would oversee and protect.

  “Someone has to be,” Lucien said. “I’m merely trying to speak to as many of…us as possible. Will you stop by the club later?”

  “I will. Are you prepared for your father and brother to be furious with you?”

  Lucien smirked. “Always. Father will try to prohibit Cass from going to the balls, but I’ll win out in the end, particularly if Aunt Christina joins the cause.”

  “Do we really want her though?” She possessed an air of insincerity that pricked Tobias’s ire.

  “Think of another way for my sister and your ward to gain entry, and I’ll support it. Now go dance with Miss Goodfellow.”

  “It’s your bloody club,” Tobias muttered. “If you can’t find a way for your own sister to come, whose fault is that?” With a final look over his shoulder, Tobias took himself off to the corner.

  “Good evening, Lord Overton,” Mrs. Goodfellow greeted him. “How pleasing to see you this evening.”

  He bowed to both women. “The pleasure is mine. Might we promenade and then dance, Miss Goodfellow?”

  “I would appreciate that, thank you.”

  Appreciate. What did that mean?

  Christ, he was in a mood. And he still didn’t know why. He exhaled the tension from his shoulders and gave Miss Goodfellow his arm and a bright smile.

  Later that night, when Tobias was settled in his coach with Miss Wingate and Miss Lancaster, he stretched his legs out, feeling much better than he had earlier. His promenade and dance with Miss Goodfellow had gone exceedingly well. He’d call on her Monday, and perhaps a week from now, they’d be ready to announce their betrothal.

  “How was your evening?” Tobias asked. “I barely saw you.”

  “I danced a great deal. Did you happen to see?” Her eyes held a delightful sparkle. “I’m much better.”

  “I did, actually. Well done.”

  “Several people did ask me about the unfortunate situation at the queen’s drawing room. Most commented that I looked well recovered.”

  Tobias wrinkled his nose. “Did that bother you?”

  “Not at all,” she said brightly. “Lord Gregory and I had quite a laugh about it, actually.”

  “Lord Gregory?” Tobias asked as if he didn’t know who the man was or that he’d all but delivered him into her orbit.

  “We danced. And promenaded, I suppose. I liked him very much.” Her eyes sparkled in the lamplight. “He said he was recently invited to join the Phoenix Club but hadn’t yet decided whether to accept. I convinced him he should.”

  “Did you now?”

  “What possible reason could there be to decline it?” She stared at him intently. “It’s a coveted invitation. I heard one woman carping about being ignored by the club, but she seemed unpleasant. And since everyone I know who is a member is exceedingly pleasant, it’s easy to deduce that the membership must be of a high quality.”

  Enchanted by her reasoning, he curled his mouth into a faint smile. “Which members do you know exactly?”

  “Er, you, of course. And I met Lord Lucien this evening.” She looked up at the ceiling of the coach, as if she might find an answer in the brocade. “Very well, I don’t know many, but you are exceedingly pleasant.”

  Feeling inordinately flattered, Tobias sat a bit straighter. “Thank you.”

  Miss Wingate tipped her head to the side. She brushed at a dark red curl grazing her temple. “What is the Star Chamber?”

  Tobias stared at her. “The what?”

  “That’s what some call the club’s membership committee.”

  “Is that true?” He glanced toward Miss Lancaster.

  Her brows rose. “Why would I know?”

  “No reason. I’m just…surprised.” He laughed. “And amused. The Star Chamber, really?”

  “Because it’s so secretive,” Miss Wingate said, lowering her voice and grinning as she said the last word.

  “And because the committee has such power,” Miss Lancaster put in.

  “So you did know?” Tobias asked Miss Lancaster.

  She shrugged, smiling faintly.

  Miss Wingate nodded. “Yes, their power. I’d love to know who’s on this committee. Besides Lord Lucien, of course. And the patronesses.”

  “Who said the patronesses are on the committee?” The question leapt from his mouth before he considered how it might sound. But it was silly to think they’d gather he was on the committee from just that.

  “No one said,” Miss Wingate answered breezily, not seeming to make any assumptions about his question. “Lord Gregory and I were only musing as to who the members might be. They seemed the most obvious candidates. I have not met Mrs. Renshaw. I understand she oversees the ladies’ side.”

  Tobias knew what she was doing. “You’re trying to maneuver your way into an assembly, aren’t you?”

  “Is that bad?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she pursed her lips. “You’re certainly not helping.”

  “That’s not true.” He crossed his arms. “Why are you so bloody interested in going to a Phoenix Club ball anyway?”

  She blew out a breath. “Didn’t I just finish explaining how coveted an invitation to the Phoenix Club is? Truly, if you want me to have a successful Season, I must attend a Phoenix Club assembly. Only think of how attractive that will make me to potential suitors.”

  Laughter exploded from him then. “Attending a ball as a guest is not the same as being a member. I daresay there will be a number of young ladies who attend a ball who will not find themselves members in the future when they are eligible.”

  “So some of the attendees will be beneath the club’s lofty standards, while I won’t even be able to go.” She clasped her hands in her lap and blinked at him.

  Hell, he’d walked right into that. “I am working on how you might attend an assembly, all right?”

  Unlacing her hands, she rested them on the seat on either side of her lap. “You are?”

  “Don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t come to fruition.”

  “It’s a stupid rule. You’re a member and you’re my guardian. I should be able to go with Prudence as my chaperone.”

  Once again, he couldn’t argue with her reasoning. If she knew he was a member of the committee that could change such rules, she would never let the mat
ter alone. “I’ll speak with Lucien.” Perhaps they should allow young ladies with male family members—or guardians—to attend the assemblies. And Lucien wouldn’t have to invite his irritating aunt. Damn, why hadn’t he thought of this earlier?

  “Miss Wingate, if I haven’t already marveled at your intelligence, allow me to do so again.”

  She inclined her head with a well-earned, smug smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Very smart. And amusing.

  And far too beautiful by half.

  “I must say, I did like Lord Gregory,” she murmured, turning her gaze toward the window.

  And she just might beat Tobias to the altar.

  Chapter 9

  Fiona strode eagerly into the drawing room where the butler said Cassandra was waiting for her. Before Fiona could greet her, Cassandra waved for Fiona to join her on the settee.

  “I have news,” she said with a rather dire tone.

  “Has your father betrothed you to someone?” Fiona asked with deep concern.

  Cassandra’s animated expression arrested. She stared at Fiona a moment, then blinked. “Whyever would you think that?”

  “You just sounded so serious, and now you’ve lines etched into your forehead.”

  Laughing, Cassandra massaged her brow. “Better?” At Fiona’s nod, she returned her hand to her lap. “Lucien told me our aunt is not getting an invitation to the Phoenix Club.”

  Disappointment blazed in Fiona’s chest. “Why not?”

  “Apparently the membership committee was not in favor.” Cassandra exhaled. “It’s no use being upset about it. I begged him to try again, but he said the committee’s vote is final—and I’m not even supposed to know there was a vote. If I tell anyone, he said he’ll send me to a nunnery.”

  “Then I suppose I’d best not tell anyone either.”

  “That would be most appreciated,” Cassandra said drily.

  Frowning, Fiona leaned back against the settee and stared straight ahead as if she could divine answers from the air. “I wonder why they voted against her.”

  “Because she can be haughty and insincere and just…irritating.” Cassandra also leaned back. “Still, I’d hoped they would overlook her shortcomings since she’s Lucien’s aunt. What we have learned, however, is that Lucien doesn’t have as much power as I’d thought, despite being the owner.”