“It is a list that I cannot share. Membership to Athena’s Salone is private.”
That would not do. “I cannot allow my cousins to attend such a place if I do not know who will be present and cannot watch over them.”
Lady Penelope pulled herself straight. “Are you saying that you do not trust me,” she demanded.
“I trust you. I do not trust the male population. From what I understand, Athena’s Salon not only has intellectual and artistic discussions, but every alcohol usually enjoyed by men.”
Lady Penelope arched a brow, but he continued.
“And gambling.”
“Which is the very reason we are attending tonight.”
He gaped at her. “Not for the discussions?” he asked slowly.
“They must learn all the games and I cannot think of a better environment to teach them.”
She then had the audacity to grin at him.
“I can teach them,” he insisted. “The two of us together can give them proper instructions. All five!” It would also mean that she would be in his home in the evening without the interference of others, outside of his cousins.
“It is better that they learn from others,” she dismissed and turned to Judith and Bernice.
“Then I shall attend with you.” How could he let Lady Penelope take the two eldest of his cousins to a gambling establishment without him there to act as the guardian that he was.
“Have you received an invitation?” she asked.
“No, but can I not attend as your guest?”
“It is not allowed but I will ask the current manager.”
“Who is that?”
“A widow, Lady Blythe, the widow of Lt. John Clay.”
He frowned. The name was familiar but he couldn’t recall way. “Lady Blythe Claxton, the daughter of the Duke of Arscott?” he asked.
“Yes,” Lady Penelope answered with a smile. “So, there is no need for you to fret about where Judith and Bernice will be this evening.”
Henry pulled back. “I do not fret.” How dare she accuse him of such a…well…matronly emotion.
Lady Penelope laughed. “I apologize, Your Grace. And I promise to properly chaperon.”
There really wasn’t much else he could say. Besides, Judith and Bernice were past their majority and could make decisions for themselves, just as Lady Penelope did.
This is always what he feared—that she’d encourage independence, which would lead to permanent spinsterhood. Maybe it wasn’t the gambling he needed to worry about but the salon that often hosted conversations that tended to be more liberal and free thinking—a place Lady Penelope likely fully enjoyed.
“Very well, I will trust in your judgement,” he finally offered, then bid them good day because he had a call to make on the Duke of Claybrook.
Penelope paused just inside the entry of Athena’s Salon as Judith and Bernice took it in with wide eyes and excitement. To their right was a door that opened to a parlor where members had gathered. Further down the corridor another door was open to the drawing room. The wall between the parlor and the drawing room had been removed, though pillars still offered support, so that members could wander from one conversation to another. On the back wall was a servant and bar where nearly any type of beverage could be requested.
Across the hall from the drawing room was a door that opened to the gambling room.
“May we listen to the conversation and debates?” Bernice answered quietly.
“I thought we were to gamble,” Penelope reminded her.
“I would rather listen to enlightened minds discuss the issues of the day.”
