Page 28 of King of Clubs (The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #9)

J oshua just stood there. His heart was no longer pounding. No, he was pretty certain it had stopped all together. She thought he’d revealed her secret. He, who loved her. Who wanted to protect her. Care for her. Give her her every heart’s desire.

He had taken too long to come to this realization, but it was upon him now, and he had to do something. He turned to look up the steps, at the door to Lady Penderton’s home. That was it! He had to go in there and convince them that it wasn’t her. He had to do something!

Two minutes later, he squeezed himself into the packed drawing room. “Lady Findlater, thank goodness I’ve found you,” he said, walking over to the lady. She was a well-known gossip. Certainly, she was exactly the right person to speak to—and he wasn’t at all surprised to see her hovering near the door, the better to catch all the latest from whoever walked in.

“Lord Wickford, surely you have heard the latest? Isn’t it delightful?” the lady crowed.

He paused. Maybe she was talking of something else. “Delightful, my lady?”

“The owner of the Ryder Street Club has been revealed. It is none other than that horrid little cit, Miss Sherman,” the woman said with venom on her lips.

“No, it’s not true. I’m certain it’s not,” he said immediately.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but in this case you are not only late to the party but very wrong .” She let out a laugh and moved away, taking such joy in besting him.

He joined a group of women who were all talking about Gwendolyn. He tried to interject. “It’s not her,” he told them. “Miss Sherman is not the owner.”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but we have it on excellent authority that it is,” one of the women said.

“Whose? Who has said as much?” he asked.

“My maid got it from Lady Hanslow’s cook,” another woman said with a nod.

“It’s hearsay!” He nearly exploded. This was going about among the servants. That’s how it got out. But who? Who would have spread it about and why?

“You are wrong, my lord,” the woman said with a smug little smile that had Joshua clenching and unclenching his fist at his side.

“Miss Sherman, herself, just confirmed it,” another woman said with a nod.

“What? She said that she owned the Ryder Street Club?” he asked. Surely, she wouldn’t be so stupid?

“Well, she certainly left fast enough as soon as she realized everyone was talking about her. Surely, that’s as good as an admission of guilt?”

“Or simply the embarrassment of a well-bred young lady who suddenly finds herself the subject of malicious gossip,” Joshua pointed out.

“No, I think she was acknowledging the truth of it.”

~May 31~

Gwendolyn hadn’t been able to sleep, not a wink. How could she even think of sleeping when her life was so thoroughly destroyed? When her father’s happiness, his hopes and dreams for her were completely dashed?

She was sitting in the morning room alone, pushing food around her plate when Bel and Bee came rushing in.

She jumped to her feet and was in their loving embrace within moments. The dam of tears she’d been holding on to all night broke with their show of support. When she could finally catch her breath, she pulled back and looked at her two closest friends.

“What am I going to do?”

They shook their heads, their faces identical expressions of anguish.

“We want to know who knew and spilled the beans,” Bel said.

“You know it wasn’t us,” Bee said immediately.

“I do know it. You would never betray me… deliberately.” Gwendolyn pressed a hand to her overheated cheek. “I… I’m sorry to say, it had to be Lord Wickford.”

“But he wouldn’t…” Bee started.

“Lord Wickford knew? Oh, yes, of course, you told us that he walked in looking for his chef,” Bel said, remembering their conversation after Gwendolyn had told them of the kiss she’d shared with the man.

“But why would he? And again, why wait until yesterday?” Bee pointed out.

Gwendolyn could only shake her head. “It had to have been him. No one else knew.” She sank down into a chair, feeling as if her heart were breaking all over again. Why would he do this to her? It just didn’t—

“Gwendolyn! Oh goodness, Bel, Bee, you’re here too?” Cassie stopped just inside the door to the room.

They all turned and watched her come in. She went straight to Gwendolyn and took her hands in her own. “I am so sorry!”

Gwendolyn just shook her head. “Were you there last night, too, to see my disgrace?”

Cassie looked confused for a moment. “Disgrace? What? No, I was home last night. Why? What happened?”

Gwendolyn shook her head. “Then what are you sorry about?”

“I just heard the news. My brother-in-law was at Powell’s the other night. He said he was sitting in the back and overheard Lord Hanslow give Lord Wickford permission to court his daughter. He just so happened to mention it this morning at breakfast.” Cassie put a hand on Gwendolyn’s shoulder. “I know your head was turned by Lord Wickford.”

Gwendolyn gave a humorless laugh. “My head was turned? No, my head was not turned by him,” she said, not even able to meet her friend’s eyes. “It was my heart which had been turned—turned inside out, patched up, torn apart, patched again, and now has had a knife thrust into it.”

So, why did she not feel anything, she wondered. Why was she not crying all over again?

“No! Oh, no!” Cassie knelt at Gwendolyn’s feet and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry! I almost didn’t come to tell you. Perhaps I shouldn’t have.”

She was numb. That was it. Gwendolyn submitted to Cassie’s hug, but she felt nothing.

“It wasn’t just your news, Cassie. Someone let it out that Gwendolyn is the owner of the Ryder Street Club. Lord Wickford was the only one who knew. The only one who could have let it out,” Bee told their friend.

Cassie gasped. “But why would he do that? Especially when he had just been given permission to court Miss Hanslow, anyway?”

They all just shook their heads. “It doesn’t make any sense,” Bel said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gwendolyn said. She gave her three good friends a sad smile. “I’m going to be leaving London, anyway. There’s no way I can stay here any longer. There’s no reason to do so.”

“No!” Bel cried.

“But what about your club?” Bee asked.

The three of them looked to her. Gwendolyn could only shake her head. “I suppose I’ll close it. I’m certain no one will be going any more, anyway. It’s a loss unless someone else wants to purchase it and run it—someone who can do so out in the open. It was ridiculous of me to think I could do something like own a club and keep the fact hidden from the world.”

“Oh, Gwendolyn,” Cassie sighed. “I’m so sorry. I… I don’t want to see you forced to leave.”

“And what about your father?” Bee asked.

Gwendolyn shook her head. “He’s going to marry Mrs. Rutledge and live happily ever after. I’m sure it won’t matter if I’m back in Lancashire.”

~*~

Hannah was greeted warmly by Lady Emmerton when she entered that lady’s drawing room that afternoon.

“Lady Wickford, I am so pleased you came,” the lady said.

“Thank you for inviting me. Is there a reason why we didn’t meet at the club today as we have on other days?” Hannah asked.

The expression on Lady Emmerton’s face was confusing. She looked angry.

“Is there something wrong, my lady?” Hannah asked when the women didn’t answer her right away.

The woman shook her head. “You clearly haven’t heard the news, Lady Wickford. It seems we were all duped.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We were played for fools, my lady,” Lady Findlater said from the sofa in front of the fireplace.

Hannah joined her, Lady Wraxley, and a few other women she didn’t know. She nodded her greetings to them as she took a seat and accepted a cup of tea from Lady Emmerton.

“It turns out that club is owned by none other than Miss Gwendolyn Sherman,” Lady Emmerton said sadly.

“Personally, I wasn’t surprised. Her father is a cit . It is not at all surprising that she is as well,” Lady Wraxley said with a sneer.

“I do beg your pardon, but what is a cit?” Hannah asked.

“It is someone who lives—and works—in the city of London. Someone who owns or works for a business,” Lady Emmerton explained.

“ Not one of us,” Lady Wraxley added.

“Not someone who should be allowed anywhere near proper society,” another woman agreed.

“She is a businesswoman, is that the problem?” Hannah asked, trying to clarify things.

“Precisely,” Lady Emmerton said.

“And this is a bad thing?” Hannah asked.

“She dared to enter our society!” Lady Wraxley said with some outrage.

“She tried to pass herself off as one of us,” Lady Findlater explained.

“She will never grace a ballroom ever again,” the other woman said with finality.

“And we will never cross her threshold either!” Lady Wraxley stated.

“And to think we accepted her with open arms,” the other woman said, tsking.

“And introduced her to our friends!” Lady Emmerton exclaimed.

Hannah looked around at all the women before putting her teacup down on the table. “I see. You all think you are better than Miss Sherman because you’ve never had to lift a finger or do a day’s work in your life.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Well, this has certainly been eye-opening. I thank you, ladies, for this lesson in humanity. You have none. You are horrid women, all of you. Miss Sherman is well rid of you and your society if this is the way you treat people who are trying to make your life more pleasant by opening a club where you can take tea, visit, and enjoy each other’s company.”

There was a collective gasp from all the women present. Hannah ignored it and walked out the door.

She was so furious at these terrible women she informed her coachman she would be walking home.

“But, my lady, it’s a good twenty-minute walk from here,” he objected.

“Good!” She turned and headed down the footpath.

“My lady!”

She stopped and looked back at the man.

“It is that way,” he said, pointing in the other direction.

“Oh.” She turned around and walked in the other direction.

Footsteps followed her, and she turned to see the man following behind her, walking the horse still harnessed to her carriage. She gave a little smile and walked on. Joshua had excellent servants.

As she stopped at the corner of the next block, she waited for the coachman to join her and then turned toward him. “Do you know where Lady Ayres’s home is?” she asked him.

“Yes, my lady. She lives in the next block over.” He pointed to the right. “At number fourteen.”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you.” She turned and walked to the lady’s home.

“May I help you?” the young footman at the door asked after she had knocked.

“Is Lady Ayres at home?” she asked, handing over the calling card Joshua had made for her.

He glanced at it and then said, “I’m terribly sorry, my lady, but it’s Wednesday. The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society is meeting now.”

“It is? But that’s perfect!”

“Er, no, my lady. They are not to be disturbed unless it’s extremely important.”

“It is absolutely urgent!” she insisted.

He bowed and led her up to the drawing room. Upon entering the room, he said, “I do beg your pardon, my lady, but Lady Wickford is here, and she says it’s urgent that she speak with you.”

Hannah walked in after him and found the ladies all seated around a tea tray.

“Well, this is excellent timing, Lady Wickford. We haven’t yet started on our game,” Lady Ayres said, coming forward to greet her.

“I do hope nothing is wrong with your son?” Lady Moreton asked with concern.

“No, I thank you. He is well. It is Miss Sherman who I am worried about. I have just come from Lady Emmerton’s home where people are saying the most atrocious things about Miss Sherman,” Hannah said, accepting the seat Lady Ayres indicated.

“Oh, dear, that poor girl,” Lady Sorrell said.

“It is absolutely horrible. It was positively embarrassing last night. She was stared at and cut by nearly every one at the soirée. We had to leave almost immediately after we arrived,” the duchess said, nodding furiously, sending her jowls bouncing.

“There must be something we can do to help the girl?” Hannah asked.

“It is true, then, that she owns the Ryder Street Club?” Lady Gorling asked.

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. But does it matter?” Hannah asked.

“Well…” the lady started.

“It is frowned upon, my lady, for a young lady to own a business and be a member of society,” Lady Blakemore said.

“But it is a very clever business. You’ve all been there. You’ve all experienced the beautiful rooms, lovely tea, excellent food,” Hannah said.

“Yes, absolutely. It is an excellent club and a unique idea, but that doesn’t change the fact that young ladies should not also run a business,” Lady Gorling stated.

“But Joshua does the same. He owns his club, and he is a member of society,” Hannah argued.

The lady shook her head. “It’s different for noblemen.”

“Well…”

“And Miss Sherman is not only a woman, she is a young woman making her debut into society,” Lady Sorrell pointed out.

“And that is worse?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid it is,” Lady Ayres agreed. “No, it’s not fair, but that is the way it is.”

“But… what can we do for her? She shouldn’t have to suffer this humiliation!” Hannah insisted.

“There is nothing we can do if she is indeed the owner of this club,” Lady Blakemore said.

Hannah was silent for a moment as she thought about this.

“On the other hand,” Lady Welles started. Everyone turned toward her. She gave them all a broad smile. “If Miss Sherman is not the owner of the club and the true owner came forward, then of course, she would be exonerated and her reputation restored.” The young woman looked meaningfully at Hannah.

It took her a moment, but the young lady’s meaning suddenly struck her, and her mouth dropped open. “You mean if someone else, say, me , were to say that I was the owner?”

“I was thinking of Lord Wickford, but yes, it would also make a great deal of sense if you owned the club,” Lady Welles said.

“So, it would be all right if I were to own the club?” Hannah clarified.

“You are an older, well-respected widow,” Lady Colburne pointed out.

“Widows have so much more leeway than young, unmarried ladies,” Lady Blakemore said.

Hannah smiled.