DIANA
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but I was determined to see this through. The housekeeper had suggested one of the maids might work as my lady’s maid, and she’d chosen wisely. The young woman had a deft hand with hairstyles and had chosen a cream-colored dress dotted through with blue flowers for me to wear today.
She’d suggested that since I would be the only woman in a room filled with “stuffy old men,” I might as well try to stand out. My hair curled becomingly around my face, and while the neckline of the dress was modest, it didn’t hide what she referred to as my “attributes.” When she’d finished, I almost hadn’t recognized myself in the mirror.
Now I stood outside White’s, with Clifton and Rexford on either side of me. I glanced from Rexford to my husband, nerves beginning to assail me.
Clifton offered me his arm. “You can do this.”
With a deep breath, I slid my hand into the crook of his elbow, making sure to stand tall, and nodded. Rexford watched silently, but I could tell he was amused. There was a slight tilt to his lips that he couldn’t completely suppress.
I suspected he was looking forward to this as much as I was, but of the three of us, I thought Clifton might get the most satisfaction. He was almost grinning when we entered the building.
The footman standing at attention just inside the door stepped back when he saw Rexford, but then he spotted me standing at Clifton’s side.
His brows drew together in confusion. “I’m afraid we do not allow women at this establishment.”
He was clearly confused, and I could understand why. Everyone knew that women weren’t permitted at White’s.
“I’m afraid I must insist,” Rexford said.
Clifton remained firm. “As must I.”
The poor man looked like he wanted to collapse, but he held his ground. “There is no precedence for this. I cannot let her pass.”
Brantford melted out of the shadows. “Not even if I say she is allowed?”
The footman was truly alarmed now. “I will lose my position?—”
One icy stare from Brantford was enough to stop his protests. “You can, and you will. You have my assurance that your position is safe.”
With the knowledge that his decree would be obeyed, Brantford turned into the morning room. Without another word of protest from the footman, we followed.
My nerves were starting to tingle. Tuttleford was here, and we were going to humiliate him in front of his peers. The people he cared about more than he’d ever cared about me or my mother.
I stopped and looked up to the heavens. “This is for you, Mama,” I whispered.
Clifton’s other hand settled over mine and he squeezed my fingers. Then he dropped his hand, and the three of us continued into the morning room. I was aware of the footman following behind us. Clearly, his curiosity had won out, and he didn’t want to miss what was about to happen.
I was surprised when we entered the room. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I knew that the pool tables were upstairs. I thought perhaps there would be drinking, loud laughter. Men playing cards.
But the scene before me appeared relatively normal. Small groups of men were clustered throughout the room, most seated in leather armchairs. Some were reading newspapers, some were drinking tea or coffee. Enthusiastic conversations seemed to be taking place, punctuated with laughter. It certainly wasn’t the den of iniquity I’d built up in my mind.
We stood just inside the door and waited. I spotted my uncle right away. He wasn’t seated at the grand window that overlooked St. James Street—he wasn’t high enough in society to be allowed such prominent placement. Instead, he was sitting with two other men nearby.
His back was to us, but I could tell it was him from the way he carried himself. Upright and stiff, as though trying to appear taller than he was. The telltale padding in the shoulders of his jacket that he wore in an attempt to make himself appear broader and more fit. And the formerly dark hair that was beginning to turn more grey than brown. He was talking to his friends and laughing about something.
Slowly, conversation around the room came to a halt. I could sense everyone turning to look at us. Or more accurately, to look at me. But my attention was focused firmly on Tuttleford’s back. His companions took note of the change in the atmosphere and glanced toward us, their eyes widening when they spotted me. One leaned forward to whisper to Tuttleford, and at last he turned around.
He spotted Rexford first, a frown forming as he no doubt wondered why Rexford’s presence would cause so much speculation. Then he saw Clifton, and finally, me. All the color drained from his face, and satisfaction surged through me.
Greyson, Fairfax, and Moreland joined us from where they had been scattered throughout the room. We stood together, an impassable wall. Five of the six Legends and me.
Tuttleford was like a wild man now. He shot to his feet and hurried toward us. “You can’t be here, girl.” His voice was a low hiss of anger. “How dare you?”
The Earl of Brantford stepped forward. “She is here at my invitation. We thought it fitting that she be allowed to witness the arrest of the man who murdered her mother. Lady Alice Atherton.”
The room exploded, voices rising as those nearest the door made sure to pass along the information to those seated at the farthest end. Not wanting to miss the rest of the spectacle, those men rose to move closer. But those voices died down quickly, and all eyes were again on us.
