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S erena woke up the next morning with, of all things, a real headache this time. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, thinking about the fact Julian was looking for a wife, yet didn’t seem to consider her. He would have talked to her if he was.

The fact that she was only the daughter of a Viscount might count against her, especially with his political ambitions. Was he concerned she’d be too opinionated and embarrass him within his political arena? He usually liked that she spoke her mind.

Later that morning, she was somewhat mollified when an enormous bouquet arrived at her house. Her favorites, pink and white roses, with a card from Julian which read, I hope you’re feeling better. Perhaps you’ll save me a dance tonight at Lady Skye’s ball.

She smiled all the way to the dining room after instructing her maid to put them in a vase on her dresser in her bedchamber.

They rushed breaking their fast because Valora and Serena were running late for the meeting being held at the Marlowe family town house. Tiffany was to talk to the ladies about her share-investing ideas. This was the most exciting thing that had come into Serena’s life for ages.

As she and her sister walked the short distance to Claire’s house, Serena dreamed about what sort of paper she would launch. Certainly she would appeal to the female market. In fact, she’d only hire women journalists. Gosh, was there even such a thing? What could she call her paper— The Feminine Voice ? No. She wanted men to read the newssheet too. Maybe The Enquirer , for inquiring minds.

They were the last ladies to arrive, and the drawing room was full of chatter and gaiety. There were eight ladies present. These women were all like sisters to Serena, all with kind hearts and keen intelligence. They had formed a strong bond right from their first come-out. Most of the ladies had known each other as children, given their families were closely aligned and their elders brothers were friends too.

Ashleigh, Courtney, and Serena had come out the same year. They were the eldest at three and twenty. None of the three had wed yet. Courtney’s fiancé, Viscount Furoe, had died two years ago in the Irish Rebellion, an officer in the army. Courtney still had not recovered from her loss. Some sort of scandal had befallen Ashleigh, and she was in disgrace. However, the ladies present had protected and stood by Lady Ashleigh Ware when she’d had her fall from grace.

And as for Serena, she’d had far more ambitious plans than simply marriage. However, Julian’s announcement yesterday about wanting to wed gave her pause for thought. He would marry no one but her. She didn’t know how to make that happen, but perhaps these ladies could help.

Next in age came Lady Claire Deveraux, and Lady Lauren Cavanaugh, Viscount Furoe’s sister, a year younger. Serena’s sister, Valora, Miss Tiffany Deveraux, Lady Ivy Ware, and Lady Farah Perrin were the youngest, at one and twenty.

“Serena got a lovely bouquet of roses this morning,” her sister Valora tattled to the ladies. “Lord Julian,” she added with a wink.

“Interesting, considering he danced with Lady Penelope,” Courtney added. “I wonder if he sent her flowers too?”

Traitor! Serena’s joy at her flowers faded at the thought that he might have sent flowers to another. Then she noted Courtney’s smile. “Stop teasing me. It is the most horrible situation. Julian announced to me yesterday that Lord Grenville suggested he marry. And he’s considering it.”

“And why does that upset you?” the demure Lady Farah asked.

Serena looked at each of the faces, peering expectantly back at her. Bother. Now she’d have to voice her fear. “Because he might not select me.” All the ladies started clapping and cheering. “What on earth…”

“You silly goose. The only woman my brother would ever marry is you.”

Serena looked at Courtney as if she had two heads. “How—pardon—I don’t think that’s true.”

“Of course it is. We all know Julian’s been in love with you for years,” Lauren said, then hugged her as she moved to refill her teacup.

“Why hasn’t he said anything?” she asked stiffly.

“Probably because you would not have listened until now. He knows very well that you hold the state of matrimony in low regard,” Tiffany added dryly.

Did she hold it in low regard? “Well, I might, but if he’s marrying anyone, it’s going to be me.”

“Then I suggest you let him know you’re not averse to the idea or else he may decide to look for someone else.” Courtney laughed at Serena’s horror filled look.

She wasn’t sure she enjoyed being the center of the group’s hilarity. With a loud huff Serena demanded, “Can we discuss what we all came here for, rather than my relationship with Lord Julian?”

They finally took pity on her, and Tiffany stood before the hearth. “What I am going to share today must stay in this room. No one must discuss this topic where others may overhear. It could hurt my reputation and my family. You must swear it on your honor.”

One by one, all the ladies present swore to keep Tiffany’s secret, then leaned forward in their seats, the tea and cake forgotten.

“As you know, my parents died penniless. My guardian and provider is Claire’s brother, the Earl of Marlowe. He gives me anything and everything I want, but I want to have choices. I’m not a great beauty,” she said, holding her hand up at the denials, “and my dowry is small. I’ve haven’t exactly got suitors lining up at my door and I can’t live off the charity of Lord Marlowe forever. What if he decides I should marry? I want to marry for love, like my parents did. So, I decided to see if I could make myself financially secure. By that, I mean I want to have enough money to buy a small cottage, hire some staff, and live comfortably for the rest of my life.”

“How on earth can you do that?” Of course, it would be Lauren who asked. Her father was in dun territory and she needed money desperately.

“I invest a portion of my pin money in shares. My father taught me and I’m very good with numbers and reading financial reports. I analyze companies.”

“So, it’s not books you have your nose stuck in,” Ashleigh laughed.

“Tell them how much money you’ve made,” Claire said proudly.

Serena held her breath. This is what she wanted to hear. How long would it take her to raise the funds she needed?

“I have made two-thousand pounds over the past five years.”

The women gasped. “Just from investing your pin money,” Valora exclaimed.

“What is the reason for sharing this secret with us?” Ashleigh asked.

“I thought some of you might be interested in also having options.” Tiffany pointedly looked at Farah and Lauren. Farah might want funds to avoid being under the thumb of her stuffy brother, the Duke of Blackstone, although Serena doubted she’d have the nerve to stand up to him. He was a right bore and ruled Farah’s life with an iron fist. Lauren, well, everyone there knew that since her brother’s death, the family’s finances had suffered. She desperately needed money. After all, Lauren had a younger sister to provide for. Madeline would need to have her come-out in a couple of years. Serena wondered if it was worse than they knew and Lauren really needed money just to keep a roof over their heads. Although quite pretty, no man was racing to offer for Lauren, given she had no dowry at all.

“I’d love to invest to help the orphanage I’ve just become patron of,” Ivy said excitedly. “This is such a great idea, Tiffany. Thank you for sharing the details with us.”

“You realize this is rather scandalous. Since the South Sea share debacle over fifty years ago, many stockjobbers won’t take orders from a female investor. They blamed females investing in the market for the last big bear run and many people lost everything. If society learned we were all investing…” Claire pointedly looked at Ashleigh. She couldn’t afford any further scandal. Society had a long memory and Ashleigh was still in Coventry, as far as the ton was concerned. Farah’s brother had stipulated she could no longer visit Ivy and Ashleigh at their house.

Ashleigh’s face reddened and Serena wanted to hug her until the hurt went away. “I think we should form a secret club. The men have White’s so we could have—the Sisterhood. We will swear never to reveal what we are doing to anyone outside of those present today.”

“I like the sound of that,” Ashleigh cried excitedly, and she was the one who had the most to lose if caught. “And this drawing room can be our club.” Ashleigh sent a beseeching glance at Claire.

“I don’t see why not. My parents are dead, and my brother Marlowe is rarely home since Dayton left for India two weeks ago. No one is really keeping a watch on Tiffany and me.”

“Plus,” added Tiffany, “I won’t have to lug all my financial papers to each meeting.”

“How often shall we meet?” Farah asked.

“If we are meeting solely about investments, monthly, I think.”

Serena nodded at Tiffany’s logic. “But there is no reason we couldn’t meet more often. I’m sure there are other things we could discuss. Such as, what do you think of the Slave Trading Act that got passed yesterday?”

The ladies’ faces were priceless. They all looked at her as if they couldn’t talk.

Lauren cleared her throat. “I don’t think it goes far enough. People can still own slaves. If we shouldn’t trade in people, why not free all slaves?”

Serena clapped her. “Exactly.”

The ladies began discussing politics, and Serena was in heaven. She made notes in her head for a story she was going to write and send anonymously to John Walter at the Times .

She would write it after Lady Skye’s ball. She wanted to talk to Julian first. After all, he’d know if parliament was actually thinking of pushing to free the slaves.