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A t the quiet knock on her bedchamber door, Alice and her lady’s maid, Nell, both looked up from what they were doing.

Nell, seated before the fire, was scrubbing the mud stains out of Alice’s green carriage dress.

Alice, clad in her night dress and heavy wool dressing gown, sat up on her bed where she’d been sprawled ever since she’d returned from Hyde Park, taken her bath, and vowed not to leave her rooms until a carriage was readied to convey her to Uncle Percy’s estate in Scotland never to return to London so long as she lived.

Night had fallen an hour ago and Alice had refused to join her aunt and uncle for dinner.

She’d picked over the tray of food that had been sent up from the kitchens, but nothing appealed to her.

Alice was not a creature prone to feeling sorry for herself.

She truly was not, but she’d started the day with such high hopes.

Then Lord Earden and his party of vultures had arrived and ruined everything, just as they had last year.

For some reason, having Sinjin witness her humiliation made the day all the more tragic.

Nell cleared her throat and nodded towards the door where another quiet knock ensued.

Alice sighed and pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her.

“Come in.” The door opened slowly. A hand poked around the door bearing a plate stacked with macarons and what smelled suspiciously like strawberry tarts.

“Do you have a moment for your interfering aunt?” Eleanor Whitcombe, Duchess of Chelmsford, was one of the most beautiful and extraordinary women Alice had ever met.

With her flaming red hair and striking scarred face, she looked the part of the pirate queen she’d been reputed to be before she opened Goodrum’s Pleasure Club.

Her romance with Alice’s Uncle Percy, the Duke of Chelmsford, was the stuff of legend and scandal, and Alice adored them both.

They’d swept her from under the control of her cruel vindictive father and given her the freedom to live, within reason, the life she wished. Now all she wished was to run away.

Nell stood and bobbed a curtsy to the duchess.

She started to gather up the dress and her cleaning supplies, but Aunt El waved her back into her chair.

“I doubt Alice and I will discuss anything you won’t eventually find out,” she said as she took the chair across from Nell and placed the plate on the low tea table between them.

She patted the leather ottoman next to her chair.

“I’ve heard the gossip. Now tell me what really happened. ”

Alice slid off the large four-poster bed and padded across the Aubusson carpets to drop onto the ottoman and retrieve one of the macarons from the plate.

She bit into the confection and savored the bright raspberry flavor.

“These are Charpentier macarons,” she said once she’d swallowed that first bite.

“Aren’t they? Lady Camilla likely sent them over the minute she heard about the Hyde Park disaster.

And as her spies were everywhere she likely heard before the mud dried on Alice’s skirts.

Nathaniel Charpentier was considered the most accomplished chef in London.

His culinary creations at Lord Livingston’s Club Ambrosio and his catering service to London’s elite placed him in high demand.

However, as he lived on St. James Square with Lady Camilla and her handsome nephew, Lionel Carrington-Bowles, that venerable lady had access to his fabulous macarons at will.

“Would your uncle have anything else? Lady Camilla sent a box over an hour ago.”

Alice cringed. “She heard what happened, didn’t she?”

“Does anything happen in London that lady doesn’t hear?

’ Nell asked. She’d put aside her cleaning and busied herself refreshing the teapot from the kettle resting on the fireplace hob.

The servants had retrieved the untouched tray of food, but they’d left the teapot, cups, and small canister of tea leaves behind.

“You’re as bad as Lady Camilla, and you know it, Nell Barker.

” Alice took another bite of macaron to avoid answering her aunt’s query.

The lady’s maid her father had assigned her from childhood had been his creature who reported everything Alice did back to him.

Aunt El had brought Nell up from one of Uncle Percy’s country estates nearly two years ago to serve as Alice’s lady’s maid.

Her closest confidant, Nell was a godsend to Alice, though she didn’t know much about the maid’s life before Captain El, as Nell called her, had rescued Nell from the streets of Portsmouth several years ago.

“No one is as bad as Lady Camilla.” Aunt El took the cup of tea Nell offered and sipped carefully.

“Amen to that, Your Grace,” Nell said as she handed Alice a cup of tea, made with milk and sugar just as she preferred. “Might as well tell her, my lady. She likely knows the better part of what happened.” The maid settled back into her chair and began to scrub the splattered dress once more.

Alice went through the sad tale as quickly as possible. Her eyes still burned from the tears she’d shed upon her return home, and she didn’t wish to revisit the memory too closely again. Aunt El listened in silence, sipping her tea from time to time until Alice brought her story to an end.

“I begged Sinjin to bring me home at once. I was afraid he would go after them. He’s already suggested he and Lord Earden make a dawn appointment.”

Eyes widened in surprise, her aunt put her teacup down on the table. “Octavius Earden? The Duke of Audley’s whelp? When did this happen?”

“Last night at the Livingston’s ball.”

“He’s naught but a second son,” Nell said with a sneer. “His mother can’t keep a decent maid in the house because he won’t leave them alone.” Aunt El cut her eyes at the maid in astonishment. “Or so I’ve heard,” Nell added.

“Do you want your uncle to speak to the whelp’s father?

Just say the word and you know he will.” Her aunt pinned her with a level gaze, which was disconcerting to say the least. Many times, Alice sensed her uncle’s fiery wife expected something of her, though she had not quite deciphered what that something might be.

“No, that will only make matters worse.” Alice clasped her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. “I think it is best if I simply leave. Earden, Weatherly, and Stanton will never forgive me for shooting Ravenswood and having him banished from England.”

“Should have aimed lower,” Nell muttered.

“Indeed,” the duchess said as she fixed Alice with that steely searching gaze once more. “If you wish to flee London you know your uncle and I will support you. Percy has given orders the travel coach is to be at your disposal.”

“He is sure to be disappointed in me.” Alice plucked at the belt of her dressing gown.

“And you, Aunt Eleanor, Uncle Percy says you never back down from a fight.” She drew in a painful breath.

A few rapid blinks did nothing against the sting of tears that threatened.

The warmth from the fire failed to reach her, as if the events of the day had encased her body in a cloak of icy mud and shame.

“I simply don’t think I can face another humiliation at their hands. ”

“Then don’t,” her fierce aunt replied. “Don’t face another humiliation. Make them face one.”

Alice opened her mouth to reply. Nothing came out. She pondered Aunt Eleanor’s words. Make them? “Are you talking about…”

“Revenge?” Aunt El crossed her legs and relaxed back into the comfortable leather chair. “Absolutely. With everything they have put you through, how could you not want revenge, my dear?”

Nell stirred the fire and the flames sent a wave of heat across the tea table.

The scent of the strawberry tarts tempted Alice.

She plucked on of the little treats from the plate and bit into the light delicate crust and sweet strawberry filling.

The maid and the duchess waited, eyes questioning.

Alice washed the tart down with a deep, unladylike gulp of tea.

“How? I mean, what can I possibly do to humiliate an earl, a viscount, and a duke’s son? I’m nobody, an outcast earl’s daughter.” She hated the ache of defeat and anger that suffused her. She wasn’t this pitiful creature? Was she?

“Even better,” Aunt El said with an eerie smile.

“Who would expect anything so heinous as revenge from sweet Lady Alice Lister? As to the how, the possibilities are endless. Daedalus says the three gentlemen who have been tormenting you are the most arrogant popinjays in England. Which means anything you can do to cause them public embarrassment, without getting caught, of course, will be nothing less than they deserve. Yes?” Alice now understood why her formidable uncle, the Duke of Chelmsford, never dared to draw his wife’s ire.

Her expression in this moment was positively frightening.

“Wait, Uncle Daedalus knows about last year, how awful they were to me?” Alice’s face burned. She scrubbed her hands over her cheeks and gave a little scream.

Her aunt leaned toward her and patted Alice’s hand. “My dear girl, everyone knows. This is the London ton , remember? Daedalus and Cordelia were ready to have those three press-ganged into the Royal Navy. Percy only wanted to shoot them.”

“Bloody hell.” Alice groaned and shook her head violently. Nell and the duchess laughed.

Percy Whitcombe and his brother, Daedalus, had only recently reconciled after Daedalus’s marriage to Sinjin Perriton’s sister, Cordelia.

Daedalus’s naughty bookstore and Cordelia’s authoring scintillating books, even if they were published under the esteemed Lady Camilla’s name, was scandal enough for one family.

Then Uncle Percy had married Captain Eleanor Goodrum, a lady sea captain who owned London’s most exclusive pleasure club.

Three years ago, Society had learned that Alice’s father drove her mother to suicide.

He was caught trying to blackmail Cordelia into marrying him.

He’d all but sold Alice in marriage to Viscount Ravenwood, who was having women snatched from the streets of Seven Dials and Covent Garden to sell into slavery in the Orient. Then Alice had shot Ravenwood.

Alice being tormented by three young bucks was a minor on dit compared to the gossip that surrounded her family.

Gossip that had settled and faded in the last three years.

The very last thing she wanted was the sort of trouble that would ensue should either of her uncles or aunts do something to the men who had ruined a mere picnic.

A picnic where Sinjin had seen her covered in mud and weeping over trampled flowers.

A log shifted in the fireplace and sent sparks showering up the chimney.

Alice stirred from her brown study and discovered her maid and her aunt still watching her without saying a word.

She pushed to her feet and began to pace from the long French windows that opened onto her balcony and back to the cozy arrangement of seats before the hearth.

“I would not want anyone else to know what I am about,” she mused. “Not Uncle Percy, nor Uncle Daedalus and Aunt Cordelia. Is there any way to keep it from Lady Camilla?”

“Likely not, but she will be most staunchly in your corner, and she is as capable of keeping secrets as she is of uncovering them.” Aunt El poured herself another cup of tea. “And I don’t want to know the details. If I don’t know your plans I won’t be forced to lie to Percy.”

“Agreed.” Alice continued to pace. She tapped her forefinger against her chin.

The more she paced, the stronger she grew, and the more palatable the idea of revenge became.

Palatable? The idea had grown delicious as any strawberry tart or even a Charpentier macaron.

“Nell will know and no one else. Though I may need at least one more accomplice.”

“God help us,” Nell said as she spread the ruined gown on her lap and sighed. “Especially whatever other poor soul she intends to drag into this little adventure.”

Alice stopped in her tracks. The duchess rose and plucked one last macaron from the plate.

“I’ll go and tell Percy you will not be leaving for Scotland just yet, but I won’t tell him why.

Nell, send that gown to Goodrum’s with a note for Olivia Jones.

She’ll know a way to remove those stains.

Half the gentlemen in London would be wearing mud-stained shirts and breeches if it were not for her skills. Her laundry business is thriving.”

“That I will, Your Grace. Should have thought of that, meself.” Nell folded the gown and went to place the garment on an inlaid table next to Alice’s chamber door.

“Thank you,” Alice said as her aunt kissed her cheek and gave her a hug.

“For what?” The duchess said with a wink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, my dear. Good luck.” In a cloud of green silk and the scent of the sea, she quit the room, leaving Alice alone with her talented lady’s maid. Nell walked slowly back to her chair, her eyes on Alice the entire time.

“What are you thinking, my lady? You’re up to some mischief with this revenge to be sure, but there’s something else going on in that pretty head of yours. Please tell me you’re not going to shoot those three scoundrels.”

“Oh no,” Alice said as she dropped into the chair her aunt had occupied moments ago. “I’m going to do far worse than shoot them. Aunt El is correct. However, I need an accomplice.”

“And does this poor benighted soul have a name?”

“He does indeed, and his participation is all your fault. For this adventure , as you so grudgingly called it, I need someone who shares my love of adventure.” Alice smiled as she considered whether to send a note or to call in person.

“You don’t mean…” Nell began to shake her head.

“Oh yes I do.”