Page 20 of King of Clubs (The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #9)

T he twins gasped. “The Ryder Street Club? I love it!” Bel exclaimed.

“That’s a very nice name,” Bee agreed.

“You’ve just heard about it. It’s a new club that’s opening up and will have a tea room where ladies can gather and socialize, a card room where those inclined can play, and a dining room where members can bring guests—both ladies and gentlemen. And the chef will be none other than Michel Ropier, formerly of Powell’s Club for Gentlemen.” Gwendolyn couldn’t hold back the broad smile that absolutely covered her face.

The twins had identical expressions of shock and excitement.

“That sounds amazing!” Bee said.

“When is it opening?” Bel asked at the same time.

“On the thirteenth.”

“The thirteenth? Friday, the thirteenth?” Bel asked.

“Yes. I know it’s only a week and a half away, but we’ll be ready. I’ve got men working day and night to finish the renovations,” Gwendolyn told them.

“That’s not what I meant. You aren’t afraid of opening on the thirteenth?” Bel asked.

Gwendolyn just looked at her and then burst out laughing. “No, I am not. The thirteenth is just a day like any other.”

“Well, I am thrilled for you. And will definitely tell people about it,” Bee said.

“Thank you. I knew I could count on you,” Gwendolyn said just as the footman came in to announce the duchess.

It wasn’t long after that it seemed as if the entire room was filled with gentlemen and ladies. Many of the women of the Wagering Whist Society had come to support Gwendolyn, for which she was extremely grateful. And she was happily surprised to see there were a good number of gentlemen as well. Many she’d danced with over the past few weeks, but there were others as well.

She stole a glance at her father, who had joined them. He was speaking with Lord Keppel, which made Gwendolyn more than a little nervous, but she did manage to catch his eye. He gave her a bright smile. He was happy. This was good. That was the entire reason why she was here and doing all this. If he was happy, she was happy.

~*~

Hannah allowed Joshua to help her from his coach.

“Don’t look so glum, Mother, you will enjoy yourself, I’m certain,” he told her with a little laugh.

“I don’t know… I only met these women for a short time the other night,” she said. She was not the social person her son was. She never had been. His father had been outgoing, and Joshua had inherited the trait from him. Hannah had always been happier in her own company or that of her maid and closest friend, Esi. She’d never really felt the need to go out and socialize.

“They are very kind women,” he said as he directed her up the steps to the house.

“Yes, I do not disagree,” she started to say. She was interrupted, however, by the door being opened by a footman in dark blue livery.

“Good afternoon,” he said, bowing them into the house.

“Lord and Lady Wickford,” Joshua said, handing over his greeting card. The man bowed and led them up the stairs.

He opened a door and preceded them into a large, opulently appointed drawing room. “Lord and Lady Wickford,” the footman announced loudly.

Hannah would have been happy to have her son go into the room first, but he stood back and guided her forward with his hand on her back. She took in a deep breath and lifted her chin. She was a princess and would not be cowed by a room filled with people she barely knew, she reminded herself.

“Lady Wickford, thank you so much for coming this afternoon,” said the girl, Miss Sherman, giving her an appropriately low curtsey.

Hannah gave the girl a slight nod and moved forward, surprised to see just how many people were present. She did not, however, miss the look of interest tinged with… was that fright Miss Sherman gave to Joshua. The girl hardly acknowledged him before turning back to her. Had she just been rude to her son? Hannah wasn’t certain, not knowing the nuances of this world, but it had seemed so.

“My lady, you remember Lady Ayres and Lady Blakemore from the other night?” the girl said, drawing Hannah forward to meet two of the ladies she’d met that night.

“Of course,” Hannah said, but then Lord Keppel caught her eye. He, too, she’d met the night before, and she’d liked him very much. Not since her dear, sweet Powell had she felt so comfortable in a man’s presence. “It is lovely to see you again,” Hannah said, returning her attention to the two women in front of her. “I do beg your pardon, but I see someone else who I would like to greet.” She gave them a nod and went straight over to Lord Keppel.

The welcoming smile on his face said everything. “My lady, how lovely to see you again. I do hope you did not suffer any ill-effects from your first society party?” he asked after bowing to her.

She laughed. “My lord, you do not suspect me of being so weak-willed, do you?”

“I would not expect it of a princess, but one never knows, and I felt it more expedient to ask than to be left wondering and worrying.”

A warmth blossomed within her. “Worrying? You would not feel such for me, surely?”

“But of course, I would!” he said immediately. He looked at her hand clasped at her waist as if he longed to take a hold of it, but he gave the smallest shake of his head, as if forcing himself not to do so.

“You are too good, my lord.” Hannah dropped her gaze. It had been over ten years since her husband had passed. Surely, it wasn’t a bad thing to have a gentleman’s interest again?

~*~

“Have you heard about the Ryder Street Club, my lord?” Lady Welles asked Joshua as he was standing watching his mother and Lord Keppel talk. She looked happy. The other night he’d been grateful to the gentleman for keeping his mother entertained while he’d had to deal with Mr. Shelby, but now… he was beginning to wonder about this. The man was leaning in toward her and she… she not only didn’t mind… my God, was she flirting?

“My lord?” Lady Welles asked, capturing his attention.

“What? Oh, I do beg your pardon, my lady,” he said, turning back to her.

“You’re watching your mother and Lord Keppel,” she said, following his gaze.

“I am. I apologize. What did you ask?”

She laughed. “He’s a very nice man. He’s the father of one of my husband’s closest friends.”

Joshua gave her a little smile. “Yes, I know. Lord Welles sponsored his membership at Powell’s.”

“What I’m saying is that your mother will be fine. He won’t do anything untoward and she…” She peered at the couple still talking and laughing. “She seems to be enjoying his company.”

“She is,” Joshua agreed. “I’m… er, I’m happy for her. He seems like a very nice gentleman.” He turned back to the young lady before him. “Now, I know you asked me something completely different—” He thought for a moment and then said, “About the new club, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. The Ryder Street Club for Ladies. What do you think?”

“I don’t quite know what to think. Do you believe it will be popular?” he asked.

“I’m quite fascinated with the idea,” the Duchess of Bolton said from a few feet away where she was sitting on a sofa. She’d clearly overheard their conversation and felt no compunction about joining in. It made Joshua nearly laugh.

“Fascinated by what, Duchess?” Lady Blakemore asked from the opposite chair.

“The Ryder Street Club for Ladies,” the duchess said loud enough for the other lady—and many others—to hear.

“Lady St. Vincent was just telling me about that,” Lady Findlater piped in.

“And what do you think of it, my lady?” Joshua asked.

“I believe I would need to see who joined before considering it myself. The idea of a private tea room is enticing, but the company must be exceptional,” the lady answered.

“I agree,” Lady Blakemore said. “Although I also find the idea quite enticing. To not have to worry about entertaining when I want to meet friends is appealing.”

“Entertaining is not difficult, my lady,” Lady Findlater said with a sniff.

“No, but wouldn’t you prefer not to even give it a thought? Instead, you simply arrange to meet your friends at the club—”

“The way gentlemen do,” Lady Colburne said, agreeing.

“Yes. It would be just like a gentleman’s club,” the duchess agreed. “In a way, that’s quite enticing.”

“And just imagine, if you don’t have plans to meet anyone, you could still go and see if there was anyone there with whom you might want to socialize,” Lady Mossley pointed out.

“What is this?” Joshua’s mother had come over from where she’d been talking with Lord Keppel to join in the conversation.

“It’s a new club for ladies, Mother,” Joshua explained.

“It’s to have a tea room, a card room, and a dining room,” Lady St. Vincent told her.

“I heard the chef from Powell’s is going to be working in the kitchen,” Lady Colburne said, looking pointedly at Joshua.

He started. “You must be mistaken, my lady. I have heard nothing about this.”

“Oh, yes, I heard the same thing,” the duchess put in. “I’m quite looking forward to trying his food. Bolton has abandoned me more than once to have dinner at Powell’s, just so he could eat whatever it was the chef was serving. There is absolutely nothing wrong with our cook, but he preferred this fancy French chef’s food instead.” The lady sounded affronted, which, really, was not surprising.

“Oh, now, I absolutely must join!” Lady Blakemore said with a laugh. “I too have been abandoned by my husband for Powell’s, Duchess, it’s not just you.”

“Wickford, I object!” one of the gentlemen in the room called out.

“I do too!” another said.

Joshua held up his hands. “Have no fear, I will not be losing my chef to this new club.” At least, he hoped not!

“The dining room at Ryder Street Club is open to gentlemen as well, if they come with a member of the club,” Lady St. Vincent pointed out with a smirk.

“Really? Well then, I suppose I’ll have to ask my mother to join,” one of the gentleman laughed.

“Maybe I can convince my sister to do so,” the other said.

“I will certainly join,” Joshua’s mother said definitively.

He turned toward her. “Mother!”

“What? Why should I not have the opportunity to taste the food of this wonderful chef and enjoy the society of ladies?” she asked innocently.

“You have been enjoying Ropier’s food. What do you think we eat every night?” he asked her.

“Oh, really? Well, it sounds as if we will not be for much longer if he’s going to be moving to this lady’s club,” she pointed out.

“He’s not moving. He’s not going to leave Powell’s,” Joshua said again, and he’d better be right! What with losing his shipment of rum, he could not stand the double-blow of losing his famed chef as well.

~May 6~

Gwendolyn was worried. She had not liked the look on Lord Wickford’s face the previous afternoon when the talk in her drawing room had turned to her new club. He’d looked downright furious at the idea that his chef would abandon him for the Ryder Street Club. Angry and… scared? Was that even possible that such a strong, perfect man would be scared?

No, she was sure she had to have been mistaken on that one. No one who lived as perfect a life as Lord Wickford could be scared just because he’d lost his chef. And she most certainly did not feel guilty for stealing him away. Business was business, and there could be no feelings involved.

Still… just to be on the safe side, she would send a note to Mr. Ropier, inviting him to the club that morning to check on the progress of his kitchen. She would see him and discuss his plans for the new restaurant. That would most definitely allay any fears she might have that Wickford had done anything the previous evening to convince the chef to stay at Powell’s.

After sending the note, she went over to the club to check on things herself. There was still much to be done in the short time they had before the club opened its doors. It was only a week away, Gwendolyn realized with a little shiver of anticipation.

“Good morning, Jamieson,” she said, coming in the back door. Her majordomo was standing in the middle of the kitchen, overseeing the installment of the new stove.

He turned around and gave her a welcoming smile. “Good morning, Miss Sherman. Just look at that beauty, will you?” he said, indicating the stove.

“It is impressive. I’ve asked Mr. Ropier to stop over this morning to take a look and make sure everything was as he wanted it,” she told him.

“Excellent idea!” Jamieson turned back to the men struggling with the enormous cast-iron stove. “Make sure it’s centered, gentlemen,” he reminded them.

The four men working on the installation turned to look at him.

“A little to the left,” he instructed.

They scooted the stove over.

“Perfect. Carry on.” Jamieson gave them a nod, then indicated for Gwendolyn to accompany him out into the club proper.

“Everything is looking beautiful,” Gwendolyn told him, admiring the pretty, white table clothes on all the tables. She had thought of going with a lilac-colored cloth, but with the drapes that color, and the fleur-de-lis on the walls, and the chair cushions covered in the color, she thought lilac tablecloths would be too much. No, the white looked elegant and refined, in other words, perfect.

“It is getting there, isn’t it? We got the shipment of tea in yesterday but still don’t have the tea services we ordered. The manufacturer is taking a little longer than he’d promised.”

“I will see if I can’t get him to hurry things up a little,” Gwendolyn nodded. She had ordered the ceramic pots, cups, and saucers from a company based in Lancashire, and she knew the man who owned and ran it. She could write to him.

They toured around the club with Jamieson, showing her all the new things that had been put in or finished in the last few days since she’d visited last. They were standing in the dining room when one of the workers installing the stove came up. He tipped a non-existent forelock saying, “Beg yer pardon, ma’am. The chef’s ‘ere.”