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She laughed, impulsively hugging her sister. “I promise it is for a good cause, and you have nothing to worry about. Now go to the opera with your wonderful husband, and I shall curl up in bed and readSense and Sensibility. It is all the rage in the drawing rooms.”
“Why don’t I believe you, Ester?” Ellie huffed, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear.
“You do not have to believe me,” Ester said softly, “but trust me, Ellie, please.”
Her sister sniffed but did not press more about Ester’s interest in the Glendevons’ notorious gambling club on St. James Street. Ellie and her husband departed shortly after to attend an opera in Haymarket.
Ester wasted no time slipping into her sister’s room and pulling a dress from the armoire. Since her marriage, Ellie wore bolder colors, unlike Ester, whose wardrobe was still filled with those pastel-colored dresses debutantes wore. Ester sniffed. As if she were not two and twenty and could be allowed an updated wardrobe.
Plucking a rose-colored gown from the armoire, she rang the bell for a servant to assist in her getting the dress ready to be worn. Almost two hours later, Ester took a deep breath and stared at herself in the mirror. Yes, she could pass for her sister Ellie. The beautiful dress clung to Ester’s figure a bit tighter than she’d anticipated, leaving little imagination to the observer about her lush curves. The decolletage was lower than she had anticipated, and Ester not only felt beautiful in the gown but sensual.
She patted her hair coiffed in the style Ellie had been wearing of late. She had even taken her ruse further by wearing a pair of earbobs and a necklace Lucien had gifted Ellie last Christmas. No one should doubt that Ester was indeed Mrs. Ellie Glendevon.
Tugging on her gloves, she hastened from the townhouse and sighed her relief when she spied Samuel awaiting her with the carriage. The steps were knocked down, and he assisted her inside, his eyes widening.
“Upon my word, you do look like Ellie.”
“We are identical triplets,” she said drily.
Samuel grinned sheepishly. “Yes, but we could always tell you, Emma, and Ellie apart by how you wore your hair and walked. If I may say so, now it is very difficult.”
Ester beamed. “Perfect. You will await me in the carriage. I shall be no more than an hour.”
“So long?”
“I must avoid suspicion by mingling for a few minutes. Do not fret, Samuel. I am confident I can escape without notice or damage to my reputation.”
Her cousin seemed to believe that assurance, for his shoulders relaxed, and hope glowed in his eyes. Several minutes later, Ester had no trouble entering the club. The majordomo had saluted her as Mrs. Glendevon, and the servants bowed and offered to get her a drink or serve her at the buffet. Thankfully she did not see any of the other Glendevon siblings—Edmond, Oliver, and Genevieve.
Ester had not been able to ascertain if they were at the club every day or if they had gone to the theater with her sister and husband. Though Ester had believed she would have been able to maintain the ruse even if she met any of the siblings during her misadventure.
“Would you like a glass of champagne, Mrs. Glendevon?” a footman solicitously asked after dipping into a small bow.
“No, thank you. I fancied just wandering around in company for a while as Lucien is from home. I will not stay long. I just wanted to watch quietly for a while. I will call if I need anything,” Ester said with a small, confident smile.
She felt like she was being watched the whole time in the club and was shocked at some of the goings-on. Many of the men gambling had shed their jackets, some wore their cravats loose, and their top buttons were undone. They looked very casual and rakish. And although she had felt the dress she had borrowed was very risqué, many ladies, or perhaps females would be a better description, were wearing gowns that were lower and flimsier. Excitement whispered in the air, cascading a forbidden thrill through her body. Ester tried to blend in and did try one of the lobster patties on the buffet.
Then there were some loud voices, and it was clear that there was some kind of upset at one of the gaming tables, and most of the staff went to deal with the uproar. Ester took that as her opportunity to seek the offices upstairs and find the promissory note.
She dashed upstairs, passing no one and soon found the large office the siblings shared. Ester had only visited the upper floor office once a few months ago, but she recalled Edmond Glendevon had his own office, while the other siblings shared a space with beautiful brass plaques indicating their names on the door. Since her sister’s husband was the accountant of the club, it was that shared office she discreetly entered. Ester did not even need to search much as she opened a top drawer and spotted severalIOUs. A quick shuffle revealed the one she searched for.
“Got it,” she muttered triumphantly.
Ester was about to pluck out theIOUfrom amongst the dozen in the drawer and hesitated. Surely it would be obvious if only the one went missing. She considered a few more of the notes atop the pile.
“The man has more than fifteenIOUs here,” Ester muttered, her eyes narrowed with anger. “At least three promising estates! Thevillain! How does he sleep at night knowing he ruined so many people?”
Quickly deciding, she removed four from the pile, especially the ones that promised to hand over their estate and, no doubt, the entire living of their family. Ester folded the notes, tucked them into her cleavage, and fled, leaving everything else apparently untouched. She closed the door behind her and took a couple of speedy steps towards the staircase when she hit a solid wall, only this solid wall was muscle, not plaster or stone.
A wild flash of recognition darted through Ester. Without looking around, she knew it washim. Awareness prickled down her spine like a cold splash of water, and her heart started to race. Ester kept her head down, fought to retain a steady composure and took several steps backward, far from the man’s reach. When she felt as if she could breathe without inhaling his rousing scent of oakmoss and bergamot, Ester took a steady breath and looked up into the mocking, dark silver eyes of Edmond Glendevon.
The man before her was tall, lean, and powerfully built. He had wavy dark hair, his high forehead and slashing cheekbones giving him an arrogant air. God, and so handsome even if unapproachable. His countenance looked carved from granite, and Ester had to restrain the icy discomfort that danced down her spine when their gazes collided.
“Mrs. Glendevon,” he murmured, flicking his stare over her in a quick but thorough appraisal. “I thought you were out tonight with my brother.” He glanced behind her as if searching for his brother.
“As you can see, Mr. Glendevon, I am not.”
A quick frown chased his features before his expression smoothed into a mask. “Is Lucien here?”
