Tilly counted her blessings every day that these people were her parents.
“I know, just as I know how wonderful and generous you have both been with me, but this is how I feel, and I will not marry with a lie hanging over me. It would not be right to do so.”
“Very well, if that is your choice, but one day you may change your mind,” her father said.
She sipped the cup of tea her mother had just poured her and thought about what she wanted to say next. “If I leave society, will you retire from London?”
Her parents looked surprised by her question, which told Tilly she should have asked it before now. She’d thought it plenty of times but had never been brave enough to enquire out loud.
“We enjoy our time in London, Tilly. However, we may not frequent society as often in the future if you are notthere, but we would still come to London occasionally, with you,” her mother said.
Tilly looked into her teacup briefly before speaking again. “I could live here while you are in the country.”
The silence settled, heavy and full of questions.
Then her mother spoke. “You have no wish to retire to the country?”
“I will, of course, want to spend time there with you both, but now that I have The Iris Club, I want to spend most of my time in London because there is much to do to keep it running.”
“We shall think on that, daughter, but I will point out that you will not do so without a chaperone or an assurance you are not here alone. We are liberal in many ways, Tilly, but there is also your safety, and we need to know someone is watching over you,” her father said.
It was to him she’d gone to first with the idea for the club when the Nightingale family had given her some of the Pavlov fortune. She’d spent a great deal of time planning what to say and outlining her reasons why she wished to start The Iris Club.
As was his way, he’d listened as she’d detailed everything for him and then asked questions. An hour later, after extensive discussion, he’d agreed to help her. They’d then worked out an extensive and detailed plan of what she would need, and had guided her through implementing it.
Tilly had always felt different from the other young ladies of society due to her birth, which was likely more her fault than theirs. But when the idea for The Iris Club had formed in her head, it had felt right.
It was finally a place for her to be herself. Yes, she had that here, with her parents, but rarely outside the front door. The day she’d stepped inside the club, it had felt right—soright, in fact, that she’d sunk down to the floor and wept right there in the entranceway.
“I thought you enjoyed society, hence why you are in your fourth season,” her mother said.
“Before The Iris Club, it was enough, and yes, I enjoy many aspects of society, but now I have the club I need nothing more to complete me.”
“I understand, and I feel like that with my chess club,” her father said. “I am pleased you have found your place, my dear, but you must promise to come to me if you have any trouble.”
“I will, thank you, Father.”
“But whenever you go to your club, you must take Verity, Tilly. I insist on this,” her mother said. “Just in case you meet any trouble.”
“Verity does not approve of The Iris, Mother.”
“Then take someone else. We have plenty of staff.”
“Very well.”
Her maid disapproved of The Iris because she wanted to see Tilly wed and settled with children. Verity believed a woman could not be happy alone.
“And are you bound for The Iris today?” her father asked.
“I am to meet with the others who discovered the Pavlov fortune first, as we have things to discuss. Then I shall go to the Club.”
“If ever you need us in any capacity, you only need to ask,” her father said. “We are here to support you, Tilly.”
The words made tears burn behind her eyes, but she kept them at bay. “Thank you. That is very kind.”
They finished their breakfast, chatting as they always did about a range of different things. Her mother usually discussed what she was reading, or a discovery some scientist somewhere had made, and her father shared whathappened at chess club yesterday. Then they would go about their day separately.
Leaving the breakfast parlor, she went to her room. Their house was an eclectic mix of dark colors with splashes of light. The walls were deep blue on which, every few feet, a range of things, from pictures to words framed that either a scientist or chess master had said, were hung.
