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4 hours earlier…
Laughter—light, tinkling, and unfettered, filtered through the doors and hallways of one particular townhouse at 48 Berkeley Square. Lady Theodosia Winfern—Theo to her friends and family—sauntered down the second-floor hallway, her feet bare of shoes and stockings, her mass of golden-brown hair rippling down her shoulders to settle at her lower back. Her mimosa muslin gown rumpled and slightly grubby. It was a cute confection, with the satin stripes of the same color in the weave and accented by a profusion of ribbon knots in a glowing daffodil yellow.
Merriment spilled through an open door, beckoning her closer. Theo paused at the entrance, a smile touching her mouth at the sight of five ladies sprawled indecorously onto the carpet before a fire, playing cards. Their bonnets had been discarded, their elaborate coiffures unpinned, shoes kicked off their feet, all pretentious airs of perfect ladylike decorum left on the doorstep leading to this townhouse. When they leave, they would again cloak themselves in perfect respectability. They would appear exactly how society and their families imagined they should be—demure, biddable, the faultless pictures of propriety.
“We have toppled the queen,” Lady Anna squealed, throwing her hands in the air, uncaring the cards took flight from her elegant and gloveless fingers before settling all around on the blue Aubusson carpet.
“You cheat!” Lady Judith cried to her friends, tossing her cards on the carpet, pouting that she had lost. “You have all colluded against me, I can tell!”
The other ladies did not take her poor sportsmanship to heart, instead finding humor in her defeat. Soon Judith chuckled sheepishly before challenging them to another round of cards. A healthy wager even started, with Lady Elizabeth jumping to her feet and hurrying to the small table to gather papers and an inkwell to record their wager.
Theo chuckled and moved on to the other open door, where this time grunts of effort and the clinks of swords rang. Their resident fencing and archery master, Monsieur Jean-Phillipe Lambert, shuffled forward with lithe grace as he parried Lady Francie’s advance.
Initially, Theo hadn’t thought to teach the members of her society the art of self-defense. However, at a ball a few months ago, she had come upon Miss Carlisle sobbing her heart out in the gardens, the shoulder of her gown torn.
A cad had assaulted her, all with the intention of compromising her honor and reputation so she might be forced to marry him. The helplessness in her gaze had filled Theo with such anger she had hurriedly bundled the young lady away to a more private area and arranged her clothes in proper order. Then she had spent several minutes teaching her how to form a fist and exactly how she should use it if another bounder dared to accost her person.
She had become inspired to add teaching her ladies fencing and the art of boxing as another pursuit to partake in. Many ladies were already allowed these sports as a gentle exercise, but Theo allowed for a much more serious pursuit under her roof.
The room was empty save for the pair, and they were so concentrated on their fight, Theo did not linger. This was one of her favorite times of the day, walking the hall and checking on her members. A dozen large rooms spread over the second and third floor, which had all been converted into intimate, warm and inviting spaces for the ladies of Theo’s club. The first floor and its rooms were the larger common areas that tended to be less populated during the daytime.
A sense of accomplishment and joy always filled her soul to know she provided such a calming and enjoyable respite to so many ladies. They were more than members of her club; they felt like a sisterhood, a family which stood in place of the one she’d never had. She had formed many friendships with the girls, acting more in the capacity of an older sister than anything else. There were a few members older than Theo’s six and twenty, and in them, she found a different sort of companionship. They were the older sisters and aunts to her and had become her closest of friends.
A forlorn sigh had her peeking through a half ajar door. A young girl, one of Theo’s newest members, sat close to the windows overlooking the gardens, her elbows resting on the sill. Though she wore a yellow dress that accentuated her slim figure, its brightness giving her a gay and buxom appearance, an air of unhappiness hovered about her. Theo’s heart squeezed. The girl presented a lovely tableau. Her wistful pose struck so naturally; the window framing the picture of her clad in a too innocent ivory frock, so demure that she might have been intended to enter a nunnery. Her peaches and cream complexion marred only by the distress revealed in her eyes.
The reason she’d created this place and worked so hard for it to be a success was for somewhere ladies of thetonwho were damn near forced to be perfect in everything could have a safe place where they could be themselves without fear of judgment or reproach. Each member was urged to leave all the cares of society expectation behind once they crossed the threshold to this townhouse and simply be free.
Theo knocked gently, and the girl whipped her head around. It was indeed Lady Perdita, and she had been crying. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her face and smiled. Her lips trembled before she firmed them and lifted her chin.
“Lady Theo,” she said, jumping to her feet and dipping into a curtsy.
“You know we do not stand on formality here, Perdie,” she said gently and made her way into the private sitting area, tastefully furnished with only a few pieces of silver chased furniture; a chaise longue, two high wingback chairs, and an ottoman, all upholstered in rich shades of purple and lilac. The openness tended to create a more relaxing space for the ladies, and each room had been designed to be spacious and welcoming. Theo did not sit but padded over to Lady Perdita.
“Shall I ring for some tea?”
A small laugh hiccupped from Perdita, and even with her eyes red from crying, she was ravishingly beautiful. “I’ve heard that you solveeverythingover tea. I never believed it before until now.”
Theo smiled. “I gather the ladies discussed my belief in the curative wonders of tea.”
“At times, they mention the whisky as well.”
Theo laughed. “That is reserved for the most nerve-wracking times. I sense all my secrets are being spilled.”
“Oh, yes, you are very admired and loved,” Perdie murmured, glancing away.
That sense of warmth rushed through Theo once again. “There are only thirty-seven of us at the moment, but I would like to hope we have a special sort of sisterhood we can trust and rely on.”
The young girl smiled. “Is that an invitation to confide in you of my troubles?”
“Only if you believe I might be of help to you, and only if it will help ease the burden I can see settled so heavily on your shoulders.”
Those slim shoulders stiffened, and her throat worked on a swallow. “I’ve only been a member of your club for six weeks,” she said hoarsely. “And it is everything…everythingI could have hoped for in a lady’s club. I’ve met so many wonderful ladies whom I might not have spoken with at a social outing.”
Theo frowned. Only ladies from thetonwere members of her club. She dared not be too liberal in whom she allowed membership as she had to care for the reputations of the ladies who entrusted themselves to her. Despite the prominence of their families and connections, several of her ladies felt they were outcasts because society called them wallflowers and bluestockings. It was rare for her to admit a debutante to their club, but Theo had been allowed a few to join them after conducting a few informal interviews. Most of the time, possible members were unaware that they were being vetted for membership. A member suggested to Theo that a certain lady might fit in, and she then made her own inquiries about their suitability. Some were dismissed for not being convivial. She allowed no snide comments to upset her members, others for being blabbermouths who would risk their secrecy, and a few had taken being fast to extremes that went beyond what Theo considered acceptable. She still recalled the words from Perdita, which had snagged her heart, and convinced Theo to admit her despite her dubious background.
“I hunger to be free from the constraints of my life. Am I so selfish to desire to walk in the park without someone hovering? Is it so wrong to want to stroll with my hair down and tossing madly in the wind?”
Theo had gripped her gloved hand and said, “No, my dear, and I have a place where you can get a slice of the freedom for which your heart hungers.”
