“We might consider asking Lieutenant Williams to join us.Everyonewants to meet him. If people hear he’s attending, they’ll all be vying for an invitation in the hopes of gleaning some bit of inside gossip they can share with their friends. We could be the most talked-about club in town overnight.”
Oh dear. Jane knew the note of excitement in her friend’s voice all too well. Della tended to get carried away with her plans and could maintain her fervor for months before she ran out of steam. It was Jane’s role to be the voice of reason.
“It’s aladies’club,” she reminded her. “I don’t think your parents will be so eager to lend us your house if we start inviting gentlemen.”
Besides Della’s parents, there were also their reputations to think of. A gambling club might be a risqué endeavor for two unmarriedladies, but if it was limited to a select group of women, they had only to conceal the sums they played for to keep trouble at bay. Gambling in mixed company was another kettle of fish.
“A special guest,” Della retorted. “One night only. Let me worry about my parents.” Maybe she had a point. Lady Eleanor and Mrs. Duff had lit up at the mention of Eli’s name last night. If he proved willing to come, he might achieve in a single evening what they’d been struggling for all season.
She and Della had made fifty pounds so far to split between them. An impressive sum for a hobby, but hardly enough to live on should the worst happen. But if they could clear a hundred before August signaled the retreat of most of their members to the countryside—oh! Then she might feel brave enough to approach Uncle Bertie with her plans to rent out rooms next year and turn their little gatherings into a profitable business. She would have undeniable proof of her idea’s potential. Proof that he didn’t need to worry about finding her a husband; she could take care of herself.
All she had to do was rely on Eli.
Jane drew a deep breath as her dreams crashed back down to earth. It was madness to depend on him again. The man who’d won her over with his kind attentions, then run off to the gardens with her cousin. The man who’d disappeared without a trace and returned just as suddenly, as if life and death could be swapped on a whim. Would she really trust her future to someone such as that?
“It isn’t worth the risk.” Pushing down the regret in her heart, Jane marched up the steps and knocked.
She put her faith in mathematics, not men. The odds of turning up a given card could be measured and relied upon, her power of reason transforming seemingly random figures into a pattern. Eli was just the opposite—unknown and thus unpredictable. It would be foolish to depend on him.
Six
The ladies’ vingt-et-un club met every Monday evening at ten, though the invitees might slip in a little earlier or later, depending on the timing of their dinner plans. Play usually began at half-past. They were obliged to hold their meetings in Della’s drawing room at present—a fine enough setting for their numbers—though Jane hoped that by next year they might have enough members to rent out rooms. They may not command the numbers of White’s or Brooks’s, but there was a market in London for a ladies’ club of a comparable nature. The women who came to their tables couldn’t be the only ones interested in playing for higher stakes than pennies at a house party, and in a more discreet setting.
The Danbys were indulgent of their eldest daughter and generally went out for the night, leaving Della and Jane to their own devices. The fact that they admitted only ladies probably did a great deal to secure their trust.
That, and no one had informed Della’s parents they played for large sums.
Jane arrived early, as she always did, in order to help Della setup. As soon as her cloak was hung and she came into the room, she noticed something amiss.
“Why are there so many tables?” She’d been expecting the third, as their run-through with Miss Chatterjee on Saturday had gone smoothly. The young lady’s confidence had improved, and she had a solid grasp of the basic principles of probability, even if full mastery was still a few weeks away. But there werefourcard tables set up for play, which meant Della must have invited far more guests than they’d agreed upon. And who would their other dealer be?
“Now, don’t be cross with me,” Della began. This was never a good start to a conversation.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s only that everyone has taken such an interest in Lieutenant Williams, and by extension, your connection to him. Everywhere I go, I’m met with questions about what he’s like, and what he’s said to you about his captivity.”
“Della.” A chill trickled down Jane’s back. “Please tell me what you’ve done.”
“I ran into him at church yesterday, and I didn’t intend to invite him—”
“You invited Lieutenant Williams here?” This was unacceptable. Her club was a fortress, the one place Eli couldn’t intrude. She told Della this notion of a special guest was asking for trouble! Why couldn’t she have listened?
“—but we got to talking about you, as it happens, and when he heard about the club—”
Why should Eli be talking about me?
“Why would you tell him about the club? You know I don’t want details to get back to Uncle Bertie and Cecily yet.” This grew worse and worse. If her cousin were to learn of the club, she would no doubt proclaim herself queen of their number and interfere with everything.
“Oh, it’s hard to explain if you weren’t there. I didn’tmeanfor it to happen. He inquired about my plans for the week, and I couldn’t very well lie.”
Yes, you could have, Jane wanted to protest. This seemed exactly the sort of situation where a small fib was called for. But there was no turning back time. Better to determine the depth of their present suffering.
“So he invited himself along?” And after she’d made it clear she didn’t want to see him again. What an intrusive, conceited man.
“No,” Della admitted. “He only asked if there was anything he could do to help. And I said it would probably increase interest if he attended just this once.” She brushed a stray curl back into place, then motioned a servant to set the chairs a little farther apart before turning back to assess the degree of Jane’s anger. “Please don’t be cross. As I said, I couldn’t lie to him. Itwillbe a help to us.”
She didn’t look the least bit contrite. She might even have done it deliberately, reckless meddler that she was.
