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M iss Olivia Jones had a singular reputation as the most sought-after laundress in all of London.

The fact she conducted her laundry business from Goodrum’s Pleasure House, one of the most discreet but notorious clubs in London, spoke volumes as to her skill and the deservedness of said reputation.

Such were her talents that London society chose to ignore her location in favor of the superiority of her service and the cache one might acquire having their laundry done by the young lady.

As much as Alice admired Olivia’s business acumen and envied her the freedom of running her own affairs, she found she liked the young woman’s confidence and character even more.

She’d had a number of occasions to engage Olivia in conversation over her last two London seasons.

They were friends of a sort being women of a similar age doing their best to make their way in life.

When the laundress came to the Duke of Chelmsford’s Berkeley Square mansion to deliver laundry or to pick up a special commission or to consult with the duchess, Olivia made a point of meeting her in the kitchens, sharing a cup of tea with her, and discussing all manner of topics she didn’t choose to discuss with her aunt.

Things like ridiculous fashions, Olivia’s rascal brother, Dickie, and which lords and ladies were the most terrible, difficult, and in serious need of a good drubbing.

Now, as they sat at the little table next to the fish pond in Sinjin’s conservatory finishing off a fresh pot of tea and a box of Nathaniel Charpentier’s famous macarons—lemon this time, Alice feared she might be overstepping the bounds of their fledgling friendship.

She’d recounted the events of the last two seasons and the things Stanton, Earden, and Weatherly had done to humiliate her, ending with yesterday’s tragic picnic.

Sinjin sat on the short stone-stacked wall around the fish pond and said not a word.

He’d heard all about Alice’s life these last two years through her letters.

Although she noticed his expression hardening and his fists clenching and unclenching as she told Olivia the sad tale.

“So,” Olivia said as she placed her empty teacup onto the saucer. “What do you intend to do about it?” Alice gaped at her, stunned for a moment, and then she laughed.

“You think I should do something about it?” she finally asked. “I mean, take revenge in some way?” Alice tried to appear innocent and without any notion of revenge. Sinjin ruined her efforts when he snorted from his seat next to the pond, and Alice glanced back at him and grinned.

“I have always suspected you were no milksop miss, Lady Alice,” Olivia said plainly. “And you, Mister Perriton, the quiet ones are always the most dangerous.”

“I am simply a scholar and a hermit, Miss Jones. Ask anyone.” He inclined his head in an exaggerated bow. “In matters of revenge I always concede to the superior temperaments of ladies for such things.”

“Ballocks,” Alice said.

Sinjin went into a mock swoon, leaning back over the fish pond as much as he dared.

Olivia glanced from Alice to Sinjin and back again. “Hmm.” She smiled. “I grew up in Seven Dials. Revenge is not only a moral imperative in the Dials it is an art. Now, what is the plan and what part can I play?”

“You’ll help us?” Sinjin’s question, half surprise and half resignation struck Alice as odd, but she was too pleased with Olivia to ponder that overmuch.

“Absolutely. Those particular gentlemen are known as cruel, mean-spirited reprobates. Their servants despise them, their families coddle them, and you are not the only young lady they have made miserable. A humiliating comeuppance is nothing less than what they deserve. What can I do to help?”

Sinjin did stand up then. He indicated the path back to his work table.

Alice led Olivia to the microscope and began to explain the beginnings of an idea.

She and Sinjin felt certain if they could secret dried nettle leaves into the clothes of the terrible trio , clothes they would be certain to wear in public, that once they began to sweat the nettle leaves would come back to life.

If their idea worked as planned Stanton, Earden, and Weatherly would be so besieged by itching and stinging they would cause a scene no one would forget for years.

Alice took a step back as Sinjin explained the properties of nettles and how he had deduced how they could be used.

She watched Olivia and Sinjin deep in discussion, asking each other questions and tossing ideas back and forth.

He was never more alive than when he talked about botany.

He had inspired her to pay attention to plants, to realize they were living beings.

He had taught her to see the beauty in even the meanest of weeds.

She rubbed a spot beneath her ribs where a sharp pang twitched at the communion between Sinjin and Olivia.

The laundress was a beautiful woman with the most striking blue eyes.

Alice had grown up plain and a bit gawky.

Only in the last two years, with the help of Aunt Eleanor and Aunt Cordelia, Sinjin’s sister who was married to Alice’s Uncle Daedalus, had she come into her own.

Her grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Breadmore, had dressed her in frilly, frumpy dresses in colors that did not suit her.

Her father’s mother was a haughty woman who resented Alice for not being a male heir.

“Where did you put my waistcoat, Alice?” Sinjin asked. He began to cast about in his usual absent-minded way. Alice sighed and went to the chair at his desk where she’d carefully draped his waistcoat and jacket earlier.

“Here it is.” She handed the simple black and gold brocade waistcoat to him. His fingers brushed over the back of her hand as he took the garment from her which caused a shivery sensation to run through her.

“What would I do without you?” he asked softly. She gazed into his eyes. Had they always been so many shades of blue at once? Now they were a dark blue-grey like the sky in the midst of a storm.

“You would no doubt be wandering about hungry, in search of your spectacles, and half-naked,” Alice replied, a catch in her voice.

Olivia laughed as she took the waistcoat from Sinjin and inspected it with care. “Sounds as if you are fortunate to have Lady Alice as your keeper, Mister Perriton.”

“I suspect you are correct. I do think since we three are conspiring to commit mayhem together we should dispense with the formalities. I am Sinjin.” He shook her hand.

“Olivia,” she replied and returned to going over the waistcoat. This is Weston, yes?”

“Yes, it is,” Alice answered when Sinjin gave them both a confused stare. “And I am simply Alice. Can we do this, Olivia? Is it possible?”

The laundress finished her careful study of the waistcoat and smiled.

“Absolutely. The leaves can be ironed into the inside of the lining of the waistcoat. Once their valets dress them in a fine linen shirt, the waistcoat, and a morning coat all will be well. However, when these gentlemen are out and about in the middle of the day, say at Lady Lavinia Norton’s Venetian breakfast on Friday?

They will begin to sweat like dock workers and once that happens?

” Her smiled turned into the most wicked of grins.

“Friday?” Alice began to pace. She tried to stop her mind from carrying her away on a wave of euphoria.

That the plan might work and that she might indeed take revenge on the men who had made her weep on a nightly basis overwhelmed her.

“How can we be certain they will dress in those waistcoats? How can we be certain their valets won’t find the leaves?

How do we know they will even attend Lady Lavinia’s?—”

“Alice.” Sinjin clasped her hand as she strode by him. He squeezed her hand and as soon as she looked into his face, her heart began to slow down. “Take a deep breath and give Olivia a chance to answer your questions. From her expression she has everything in hand.”

“Life on the streets,” Olivia explained. “You don’t survive without being several steps ahead of those who want to rob you, kill you or worse.”

Olivia was so much like herself, Alice often forgot what the young woman’s life might have been like before the duchess hired her at Goodrum’s and gave her a place from which to run her laundry. Sinjin released her hand and drew two stools over for Alice and Olivia to sit at his work table.

“Being a laundress brings a great deal of information to my ears,” Olivia said. “Not to mention having Dickie Jones as a brother.”

Alice and Sinjin laughed. They’d sent Dickie and Seamus to Missus Beatty as neither of those boys could ever refuse food.

“I happen to have the waistcoats and jackets of all three of those guttersnipes in my laundry with written orders they are to be delivered freshly laundered for Friday morning as the gentlemen will be needing them for a social occasion.” Olivia fixed Alice and Sinjin with a superior smirk as well she should.

“I have several such orders from various households in Mayfair with specific mention of Lady Lavinia’s do.

Which makes me think that is where Earden, Weatherly, and Stanton will be in attendance. What about you two?”

“Us?” Sinjin sounded alarmed. Of course, he did. He despised socializing with people. “Why do we need to be there?”

“Are you in jest?” Alice asked him indignantly. “I want to see them humiliated. I believe I have earned the right.”

“Agreed,” Olivia said. “But it would also be good for you to be there, Sinjin, in case our plan doesn’t work. You can watch them to see if it works or if it fails or anything else we need to know in case we need to try again.”

“Try again?” Now Sinjin was alarmed, which would be rather endearing if Alice wasn’t so determined. She patted his arm and turned back to Olivia.

“What about the valets? What if they suspect something?”