“It is. Let’s go home.”
The man rose in an ungainly pile of limbs and trailed after him. And then the clang of the damn bell announced their departure.
Dav stomped into the room and flopped into the chair beside me with an irritated huff.
“I assume you two need to have a discussion,” Will asked Mr. Summers.
“Only if you’re finished. It can wait.”
“I believe we’re sorted for now. Do you want to use my office?”
Mr. Summers settled into Will’s vacated seat before asking the other gentleman to stay.
“So, Lady Davina won some £3,000 off of Mr. Beaumont. Michael is determined to pay his debts. However, Michael is equally determined that he cannot have young ladies sneaking into the club dressed as young men.”
“It would serve you right, you know. If Mr. Wayland had you arrested for public indecency,” I snapped at my sister.
“He would never! He still feels badly for stealing Lady Juliet from you,” she spit back, entirely unrepentant.
“A person cannot be stolen. She made the choice that would make her the happiest and I am glad for them both. You are not to exploit any feelings he has on the subject. Do you understand?”
She crossed her arms in a familiar pout. At my unmoved countenance she finally added a quiet, “I understand.”
Mr. Summers continued. “We can set up an account for her personal use. It will be under your name, of course, if you agree.”
“Her own account? Is that necessary?”
“It might be good practice,” Will offered.
“She also won £575 from Mr. Wesley Parker and £250 from Lord Thurston Lucas,” Mr. Summers added.
The space behind my eyes throbbed in irritation. “Davina…”
“Why are you scolding me? I did well!”
“You could just as easily have done poorly. Did she bankrupt anyone else? I thought Parker was more fond of the tracks than the tables.”
“No, Beaumont was the most substantial gain,” Mr. Summers explained.
“All right, have the accounts drafted I suppose. I’ll call for the carriage.” Pointing to Davina, I added, “You stay right there.”
Just to be difficult, she stood and leaned against the desk in defiance.
The carriage took but a moment, and I marched Dav from the offices with a distracted wave straight into the carriage without so much as a glance up the street.
She settled across from me, arms crossed with a pout.
“Davina Rosamund Hasket, are you trying to get yourself killed? Because men have been killed for smaller sums.”
“Oh, they were hardly going to kill me. And if they’d called me out, I would have revealed my identity. No one would have actually shot me.”
Frustration racked through me anew. “Our brother was stabbed on the steps of his home. Over what was very likely gaming debts. Do not ask me to burn another dining table, Davina. I wouldn’t survive it.”
Across from me, she shifted, arms uncrossing. “You burned the table?”
“He died there. I could hardly break my fast there any longer.”
“Oh… I didn’t know that,” she said, quietly contemplative.
