Her father was the second son of a baron—hence the reason they were accepted in society. Tilly knew they would not frequent as many social gatherings as they did were it not for her. They had told her once that whether she lived life in the country or among their peers, they cared not, but the decision would be Tilly’s to make.
“Are you looking forward to the Mandelson masked ball in a few weeks, Tilly?”
“I have not given it much thought, Mother.”
Society events, for all they could sometimes be filled with boring, obnoxious people, also had many wonderful guests who had interesting stories to share, and those were the ones she spent time with.
Before her friend had been married, Tilly also had Violet to gossip with, but not anymore. Now she rarely attended, and if she did, it was with Charles at her side. Not that Tilly begrudged her that, but she missed her very much.
“How many members does The Iris Club have now, dear?” her father asked.
“We have reached forty.”
Everything had changed for Tilly this year with the opening of the Iris Club. It had given her a purpose. Previously she’d flitted from one pastime to another, but nothing had really grabbed her attention until now. So, she’d come to the decision over the past few days that this would be her last season.
“Excellent. We’re very proud of you, Tilly. It is a wonderful thing you are doing for womankind,” her mother said.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“I will be bringing the ladies there next week after the lecture by Professor Hindlemarsh.”
“I look forward to it.”
Her father lowered his paper and studied her suddenly. “Have you had any trouble about what you are doing, Tilly?”
“Trouble, Father?” Tilly hedged, not wanting to lie to him outright, but also not wanting to speak the complete truth.
“From people, namely men, displeased with what you have done.”
“Only minor disagreements, which we knew would happen. Nothing alarming,” she added quickly as he frowned.
They were wonderful, kind people who liked a peaceful existence, and Tilly had no wish to destroy that by telling them about the incidents at The Iris or the rooms she’d found beneath.
“Any marriage prospects this season?” her mother asked as she slathered jam on her toast.
She’d told them that she had no desire to wed, and they respected her wishes considering her start in life, and yet they always asked in case she’d changed her mind. They’d denied wanting grandchildren, but she wasn’t entirely convinced about that.
“No one of interest,” she said after a sip of tea. “And now I have The Iris I believe this will be my last season.”
That got their full attention.
“I have some of the money from the Pavlov fortune now to help with the club, and I want to focus on that… if you are both all right with that decision?” she rushed to add.
She’d given it a lot of thought. Every year, there were new dresses that her father never had issue with purchasing, along with the other things she needed, and this year it had suddenly become pointless. She would not wed, so why continue the pretense of entering society?
She wanted to make The Iris Club better in every way.The best women’s club in London—not that there were many, but still. Long after Tilly was dead, she wanted people to become members because it had an excellent reputation.
“Why now?” her father asked.
“I had little to occupy my time before, and the social events were enjoyable, but I no longer need them.”
“There is no reason you cannot wed, daughter,” her mother said gently.
“Perhaps for a while I thought about marrying, but no longer. I won’t do that, if any future husband doesn’t know the truth, and I don’t think any man would want a woman of uncertain birth. At least not anyone who lives in our world.”
“We’ve always told you there is no shame in your birth, Tilly. We love you as our child, and were blessed the day you became ours,” her father said.
She held out both hands, and they took them, gripping her fingers tightly.
