“Tilly,” Lady Sinclair said.
“Have you rules around who can join?” the duchess asked.
“Loose rules,” Tilly conceded.
“I think anyone who wants to join, has manners, isn’t here to cause trouble, and doesn’t smell should be allowed to,” Lady Sinclair continued.
“Excellent point about the smelling, Lilly,” the duchess said. “And another point to ponder, Tilly, is that if anyone takes issue with a woman who is untitled joining your club, do you really want them here?”
Tilly shook her head.
“Well, I’m glad we have that sorted,” Lady Sinclair declared. “Now are you well, Miss Wilson? I noticed you were cradling your wrist briefly,” Lady Sinclair said.
Was I?She hadn’t even realized, but it was aching a little from her fall.
“I had a fall. It is nothing,” she said.
Lady Sinclair put the fingertip of her glove between her teeth, tugged, and removed it. “Let me have a look.”
“Ah—” But before she could speak, the duchess had taken her arm and pushed up her sleeve, exposing her wrist. It was a little swollen.
“My sister-in-law has wonderful healing skills,” the duchess explained.
Lady Sinclair passed her fingers softly over Tilly’s wrist with just the briefest of brushes. Heat built beneath the skin, and then it was gone.
“It doesn’t look broken,” Lady Sinclair said when she was done. She then pulled her glove back on.
“If you will call for tea, please, Tilly, and cake or a scone would be lovely. We shall find a parlor to enjoy the club,” the duchess said. She then took her sister-in-law’s arm, and they left the office.
Flexing her wrist back and forth, Tilly realized it felt a great deal better.Odd.
Stepping out of her office, she rejoined the gathering, but the Sinclair and Raven parties were no longer there.
“I believe you had something else you wished to ask me, Mrs. Greedy,” Tilly said.
“I know you’ll have your own cook,” the woman said. “But should you have need of anyone to aid her, or cater any events, Appleblossoms Bakers would like to offer their services.”
Mavis nodded, and Tabitha smiled at that.
“Thank you, and yes, I will be very interested in your offer and will let you know when we require your services, ladies,” Tilly said to the women.
Tabitha’s smile widened. Mavis’s did not.
“Now if you would all like to explore the premises, perhaps you can find the largest parlor, as that is the one I think would suit best for your knitting club meeting.
They seemed happy about that and left. If the powerful Sinclair and Raven ladies had no issue with mixing with the Crabbett Close locals in The Iris, then neither did she.
Yet another knock on the door had her retracing her steps. Tilly would get downstairs to the kitchen soon, but right now it seemed there were yet more ladies wishing to join. Excitement had her opening the door with a smile on her face.
The man on the step was, Tilly guessed, middle-aged, with a face that gave nothing away as to why he was on The Iris Club’s doorstep. He wore a black wool frock coat, and in one gloved hand, he carried a sheaf of folded papers. His hat remained on his head.
“Miss Wilson?”
“I am she,” Tilly said pleasantly. “How may I help you?”
“Hartley. Inspector Hartley, Metropolitan Board of Works.” He produced the papers from beneath his arm with the economy of a man who performed this gesture many times each week. “I am here in connection with a complaint received by the board regarding these premises.”
She did not take the papers immediately. “A complaint,” she said. “Of what nature? We have been open only a single day.”
