Page 70

“Oh!” Sam grimaced and fanned herself. “Lady Sutton?”

Evie nodded. “And now her husband is the biggest scoundrel, sleeping with anything that moves. Or at least, those are the rumors.”

Beatrice suddenly imagined Adam sleeping with other women while being married to her, and she felt rather sick in her stomach.

Oh, God, what am I doing?

Chapter 17

The air hung heavy in the humid night. The rain had just passed, and the clicking of boots was accompanied by a splash of tiny puddles. The overcast sky threatened more precipitation but rain was the last thing on the mind of the two shadowy figures stalking their way stealthily toward the imposing facade of the Boodle’s Gentlemen’s Club, an establishment known for its exclusivity and clandestine gatherings.

They looked like two burglars or perhaps some other type of criminals tiptoeing toward their victims’ shelter. However, on the inside, they were the ones quaking in their boots. Or at least, one of them was.

“Just remember not to speak,” the taller, broader of the two figures murmured as they advanced closer.

“Why not?” the second figure asked in a high-pitched, feminine voice that was at odds with the outward appearance and intimidating, thick facial hair.

“Because your voice will give you away.” Adam walked into the light of the lanterns and looked at Beatrice, who was hiding her feminine beauty behind the male clothing, a tall hat, and a paste-on beard.

“I can disguise my voice,” Beatrice affected a low baritone, but Adam just let out a sound between laughter and a snort.

“Please, you shall ruin the entire thing. Now as a member, I am allowed to bring one guest, so you shall be—”

“Your cousin, Bertram Lewis, you told me already,” she interrupted impatiently.

“Forgive me for repetition, but I need to repeat it so I don’t forget.” Adam rubbed his forehead. This entire thing could get him expelled from the club and make a laughingstock out of him for decades to come. “And you are deaf and mute, Bertram Lewis, so I don’t want to hear a squeak from you. Understood?”

Beatrice growled something indecipherable and stroked her beard.

“Do not do that. It might fall off.”

“Well, I am nervous!”

“Shh! For the love of God, woman, please, be quiet.”

She grumbled something under her breath.

“Good. Now when we come in, you sign your name—your fictitious name—without taking off your gloves. I hope you understand what I am risking here.”

She just stared at him.

“Well?”

“You told me not to speak!” she whispered furiously.

“Fine, fine. Let’s go and get it over with.” Adam took her hand, then abruptly let it go. Perhaps it was he who needed a constant reminder that Beatrice wasn’t Beatrice today. But even despite the manly disguise, Adam couldn’t help but see the charming woman within.

He knocked on the door and was immediately let into the club. His forehead perspired slightly, and he tugged his hat lower over his brows.

“I am with my cousin, Bertram Lewis. And we require a private room if any is available.”

“Certainly,” the guard said and pushed the registration book toward Bertram a.k.a. Beatrice.

“We shall be discussing family matters, so please, do not tell anyone that I am here aside from my brothers who are also welcome to join us in the private room,” Adam said, keen on distracting the guard from watching Beatrice closely.

He knew that neither of his brothers would be in Boodle’s tonight, so the request to limit his associations only to his family members would be safe and less suspicious than just being locked up with a cousin the guards had never seen before.

Not that anyone would suspect anything untoward. Adam was certain that no one in the history of this club’s establishment had dared to try and sneak a female inside.