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“Your breasts. I noticed yesterday that your rather ample bosom was causing you to look less like a boy. We need to bind your breasts, so they don’t create too much of a bump in your clothing.” Susan rummaged through the valise and then pulled out the linen shirt. She wrapped the strips of cloth around Emma’s breasts to flatten them down.
“Does it hurt?” Susan asked after tucking the end of the linen under the binding.
“A little.”
“It’s only for a few hours.” The carriage hit a rut as Susan pulled out the waistcoat and jacket, causing them both steady themselves. She bumped into Emma with a curse.
“Susan! I have never heard you curse before.”
“Brothers,” she replied with a smile. She helped Emma into the waistcoat and jacket. “It’s still not perfect since you have much more there than I do. But the bindings will help.”
Susan placed a hat on Emma’s head and smiled. “Other than your height and figure, you should look the part.”
“I wish I could see how it turned out.”
“We mustn’t get caught, Emma. If we see anyone we know, we should leave immediately.”
The idea of being caught added to the excitement of the evening. “Only if they appear to recognize us. We will both be disguised.”
Susan only sighed as they stopped in front of Hell. Emma opened the door and then jumped down. She glanced up at the façade of the building. Only a scoundrel like Kingsley would create a gaming hell in an old church. She gave Susan a hand to help her down.
“Is this it?” Susan asked. “I rather expected to see all sorts of men outside and maybe even a few lightskirts standing about.”
Emma laughed. “We may have passed by this place a hundred times without even realizing what the building housed.”
“Let’s go inside.” Susan pulled Emma up the steps and then stopped. “Do we knock or just enter?”
“We must knock and let them know who we are.”
“Who we are?” Susan parroted.
“I can’t be Emma Drake dressed like I am. I shall be Edmond Tavers, and you are my guest, Miss Yardly.” Emma laughed at her friend’s surprised expression.
The large wood door opened, revealing a giant of a man with brown hair and shoulders that almost filled the doorway. “Cards, please.”
She should have expected this. All gentleman had cards at the ready. “I do believe we have forgotten them this evening.
The man stared down at them for a moment. “Who are you?”
Emma gave him their names and the three pounds to get in. The man checked a list and then moved away, allowing them entrance to what must have been the vestibule of the church.
“First time?” the man asked, staring at Emma.
“Yes,” she replied in her lowest voice.
“Through the wood doors. Hat on the table when you enter.”
“I beg your pardon?” Emma questioned, almost forgetting to lower her voice.
“New policy. All,” he paused, lips twitching, “men are required to remove their hats.”
Emma nodded, thankful that the man was now preoccupied with two men who sought entrance. She clasped Susan’s arm and led her toward the doors.
“You cannot take off your hat,” Susan whispered.
“I know.” Why hadn’t either of them thought about the fact that hats were always removed? Apprehension twitched down her spine. They could not back down now. “I can only hope no one mentions anything about it once we are inside the gaming room.”
Emma opened the ornately carved wood door, and they entered the sizeable raucous room. Stained glass windows displaying the holy family and angels watched over the gamblers who sold their souls to win some money. Where the altar must have been situated, now held a long table for cards. A few other gaming tables surrounded the room, with dice and card games and one for table roulette.
