Page 27 of King of Clubs (The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #9)

T here was silence in the room for a moment. Joshua wasn’t sure he could stand the suspense, wondering whether these women would keep their promise.

“And it will never, ever leave this room,” Lady Blakemore stated.

“Never!” Lady Colburne agreed.

There were nods all around. Joshua found himself able to breathe again.

“You are not actually illegitimate, only in the eyes of the church,” Lady Welles pointed out.

“That is correct,” Joshua started.

“But it is the church that matters in when it comes to inheritance—especially titles,” Lady Gorling pointed out.

“You have most certainly paid for your assistance,” Lady Moreton said just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Yes, absolutely!” Lady Ayres agreed.

“How may we help you?” the Duchess of Bolton asked.

“You were correct in noting my interest in Miss Hanslow,” he started. “Taking into account what I just told you, as well as the fact that I am from the West Indies and the product of an already unusual match, I felt that it was important for me to marry someone with impeccable breeding. Someone from a well-established family so that, in the future, there could be absolutely no doubt about my position in society—or that of my children. But I find…” He shook his head. “I simply cannot see myself marrying her. She...” He sighed and tried for diplomacy. “She is not the right person for me.”

“My lord, we have just established that you are not, no matter what the church or anyone one might say if they were to learn the truth, illegitimate. Yes, you are the product of an unusual union, but your parents were married,” Lady Colburne said.

“Not only that, my lord, but through your own devices, you are a valued and well-accepted member of society,” Lady Ayres added.

“No one would ever think to question your credibility,” Lady Moreton said.

“I understand your desire to marry someone with a family background that you lack, but it is much more important that you follow your heart,” Lady Gorling said, giving Joshua a smile.

He nodded. “Which is why I’ve come to you for help.”

“You’ve decided not to pursue Miss Hanslow?” Lady Welles asked.

“Yes—”

“So who has caught your interest?” Her Grace asked.

“My heart, Your Grace. She has caught my heart and is holding it tightly in her hand without even realizing it.”

“And who is the particularly obtuse young woman?” Lady Blakemore asked with a little laugh. Some of the others did so as well.

Joshua could only smile and shake his head. “It is Miss Sherman,” he admitted.

“Miss Sherman? Gwendolyn? The young lady I am sponsoring this Season?” the duchess asked, quite surprised. “I didn’t even realize you were paying her particular attention!” She turned to Lady Welles next to her on the sofa and added, “That doesn’t speak very well of my chaperoning skills, does it?”

“Have no fear, Your Grace, you were not always around when I took the opportunity to spend time with the young lady. We’ve met in any number of places—at parties, in the park, even just on the street, and I’ve visited her a few times at her home as well,” he explained.

“Oh, well… I supposed I can’t be faulted if I wasn’t there,” she said, sounding a little relieved.

“And you say that she isn’t aware of your regard?” Lady Ayres asked, getting back to the point.

“I tried to tell her yesterday, but she told me I would do better to continue in my pursuit of Miss Hanslow,” he admitted.

“Perhaps you didn’t make yourself perfectly clear—” Lady Welles suggested.

“I told her that I thought she was beautiful and intelligent and asked if I might court her.”

“Oh,” the lady said.

“That sounds awfully clear and straightforward,” Lady Colburne agreed.

“And she said no?” Lady Moreton clarified.

“Exactly, my lady. I didn’t press her. Instead, I simply decided I had to come here to speak with you in the hopes that you might be able to help,” he told them, looking from woman to woman. He now sincerely hoped he hadn’t been mistaken in his confidence in their ability to help—especially since he’d just revealed his deepest secret!

“I wonder…” Lady Sorrell started but then stopped. She was clearly thinking about something.

Everyone turned to her.

When she looked up and noticed everyone staring at her, waiting, she gave an embarrassed little laugh. “It’s just that my sister is very good friends with Gwendolyn,” she explained.

“Yes?” Lady Gorling said, clearly wanting more explanation, as did Joshua.

“The whole reason Gwendolyn is here is because her father is determined that she marry a nobleman,” Lady Sorrell continued.

“I am a nobleman,” Joshua pointed out needlessly.

“Yes, of course you are,” Lady Sorrell said.

“But you’re also a club owner,” Lady Gorling said.

“Exactly, which may make you less eligible in Mr. Sherman’s eyes,” Lady Sorrell agreed.

“Really?” Joshua asked. That had never occurred to him, but it did make sense. He was pretty certain it was the fact that he owned a club that most likely had Lord Hanslow taking so long to decide whether he wanted Joshua courting his daughter. He supposed it would make sense that Mr. Sherman felt the same way.

“I believe he wants his daughter to marry someone active in Parliament or devoted to their estate or some other nonsense,” the duchess agreed. “He hasn’t exactly said as much to me, but it was implied.”

“And you think that would be why Miss Sherman would turn me away,” Joshua said, nodding. It did make sense. She did not seem to be particularly happy when she’d told him to pursue Miss Hanslow. In fact, now that he thought about it, he wondered if she hadn’t had tears in her eyes.

“What you need to do is convince Mr. Sherman that you are very much a nobleman,” Lady Sorrell said.

“Talk to him about politics and bills coming up on the floor of Parliament,” Lady Welles said with a little laugh.

Joshua chuckled at that one. He could do it; he followed the latest news and spoke with enough noblemen to know precisely what was happening in Parliament. He just had no interest in becoming involved himself.

“I don’t know that it’s necessary, my lord,” Lady Blakemore said, giving Lady Welles a rather stern look. “But you do need to convince him that you are the right man for his daughter.”

“Yes, I think that would be better. I’m certain I can do that.” Joshua felt better already.

~May 30~

The moment Gwendolyn stepped into Lady Penderton’s soirée, she felt as if something was wrong. She couldn’t figure out what it was though. People seemed to be looking at her, then looking away quickly, and then talking to each other from behind open fans or raised hands.

She gave herself a good shake. She was being paranoid and ridiculous. There was nothing going on.

The Duchess of Bolton, standing next to her, was clearly aware of it as well. She stopped, pulling Gwendolyn to a halt as well and causing the people behind them to protest.

They moved to the side.

“What is it?” Gwendolyn asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t believe it’s anything good.”

“ Harumph !” one woman said, shouldering past Gwendolyn.

Gwendolyn watched her move away and then turned to look at the duchess.

“Perhaps you should wait here. I’ll—”

“Duchess,” Lady Findlater said as she too walked past. To Gwendolyn, she said nothing but simply turned her back.

“The cut direct!” the duchess whispered in horror.

“What? Why?” Gwendolyn asked, her voice nearly as quiet.

Her companion merely shook her head as perplexed as Gwendolyn was.

“I do beg your pardon, Lady Findlater,” the duchess said, going after the woman.

Gwendolyn saw the woman stop and turn to speak with the duchess. They were speaking too quietly, though, and Gwendolyn couldn’t hear.

“Excuse me, Miss Sherman,” Lady Penderton said, claiming Gwendolyn’s attention from her other side.

Gwendolyn turned and gave the evening’s hostess a smile. “Good evening, my lady.”

“I’m afraid it is not a good evening—not for you. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Your invitation to this evening’s entertainment has been rescinded.” The woman stared down her nose at Gwendolyn.

Everything seemed to stop. People all around them faded into silence as they all stood and stared at her.

“I… I don’t understand,” Gwendolyn managed to get out. She could feel her stomach begin to cramp.

“Perhaps someone at your club will better be able to explain it to you,” the woman snapped. “Good evening.” She crossed her arms under her meager bosom, clearly waiting for Gwendolyn to leave.

“No!” Gwendolyn heard the word and then realized it had come from her own mouth. She gathered together all the courage she could possibly find and then said, “No, I’m sorry, but I cannot leave until I know why I am being asked to do so.”

The duchess bustled up and grabbed her arm. “Of course, my lady. We are leaving immediately. Good evening.” Her chaperone then dragged Gwendolyn out of the room with a great deal more strength than she would have expected.

“I don’t understand! What’s happened? Why am I suddenly ostracized?” Gwendolyn exploded once they were out on the footpath.

“Everyone is saying you are the owner of the Ryder Street Club! It’s absolutely ridiculous, I know, but that’s what they’re saying. What everyone is saying! We need to leave, but we’ll figure this out—where this awful, awful rumor might have started. Perhaps, perhaps we can discover who the true owner is and get them to confess. Society will have no choice to but to—”

Gwendolyn stepped back. They knew!

She could do nothing but shake her head. Her worst nightmare had come true, and she was ruined. Just as she had finally decided to make a true effort at finding a husband who would make her father happy… she had to leave.

Yes, that was it! She had to leave. Not just this party, but London.

~*~

Joshua wandered through the club, nodding to acquaintances and ensuring that everyone had what they needed. The mastiha wasn’t doing quite as well as he had hoped, but at least he hadn’t lost too many members. Although they weren’t drinking the new liquor, they were at least here and drinking.

There was a loud eruption of laughter among a group of men who’d just come in. Lords Fostler, Swinton, and Meriton were sitting together, each with a glass of brandy in his hand.

Joshua sauntered over. “Gentlemen,” he said, smiling at them. “I’m glad to see you’re all doing well and enjoying yourselves.”

“Couldn’t be better,” Lord Swinton said.

“Say, Wickford, did you hear the latest about the new ladies’ Ryder Street Club?” Fostler asked, looking up at him.

Joshua smiled and shook his head.

“It’s owned by a chit!” he said, bursting out laughing.

“Some little girl just making her debut!” Meriton said, joining in the laughter.

Joshua’s smile froze on his face. Oh, my God! They know! It’s gotten out! Poor Gwendolyn!

“Can you believe? The girl’s name is Miss Sherman. Have you heard of her?” Lord Swinton asked, controlling his chuckles.

“Er, yes. As a matter of fact, I have,” Joshua said. His heart had started pounding in his ears so loudly he had trouble hearing what the men were saying.

“…must be having a ball at Lady Penderton’s soirée!” Fostler was saying.

“Lady Penderton’s?” Joshua asked.

“Our wives are there as is probably half the female population of the ton,” he said.

“Well, I’m certain they’re not at Ryder Street!” Swinton added.

“No, certainly not!” Meriton agreed.

“Do excuse me, gentlemen.” Joshua nodded to them and moved as quickly as he could toward the door while trying not to draw attention to himself. As he forced himself to stroll along, he pulled a footman toward him. “Tell the stables to have my horse at the door as quickly as possible.”

The man gave a nod and jogged off to do his bidding.

Joshua wasn’t dressed for riding, but it would be the fastest way to get to Lady Penderton’s. He only hoped… well, truly, he wondered whether Miss Sherman was there at all. If she was, how would she be dealing with this? Would she have already left? Perhaps she hadn’t gone at all—he could only hope that was the case.

He made it to the front door just as his horse was being brought around. He accepted the reins from his groom, mounted, and then rode as fast as traffic would allow. He pulled up just outside of Lady Penderton’s home. There were two women standing just outside the house.

Gwendolyn!

She and the Duchess of Bolton were standing there talking as Joshua leapt from his horse. He shoved the reins into the hands of the nearest groom and strode over.

“Miss Sherman, I just—”

“Lord Wickford! What—” She gasped. “It was you, wasn’t it? You are the only one who knew, aside from Bel and Bee, and they would never tell a soul.” She stood staring at him as a tear slowly started to make its way down her cheek. “Why?” she whispered.

Joshua was shocked. No, horrified! No, furious! How dare she accuse him of such a heinous crime! “I would never!” he said, staring her in the eye to prove the honesty of his words. He reached out to wipe away the tear, but she stepped back out of his reach, shaking her head. “Miss Sherman, you must believe me—”

“Why? Why must I believe you? You were furious when I stole your chef. Is this your way of getting back at me? Or is it because…” she paused, her eyes shifting toward the duchess who was standing by her side, listening to every word. “Because of what we discussed the other day?”

“No! I tell you—

“She is upset, my lord,” the duchess chimed in.

“Yes, I am upset, and I have every right to be! Someone…” She paused to look deliberately at Joshua. “Someone revealed a closely held secret. Someone betrayed my trust. Someone is never going to be spoken to ever again!” She spun on her heel and walked away.

“Oh, my lord, do not regard her words. I’m sure… I’m sure it will all work out. She’ll see reason soon enough—as soon as she’s calmed down a trifle.” The duchess went running after her charge. “Gwendolyn! Gwendolyn…” she called after the girl.