Page 4 of One Night of Scandal
“Evening, Barrett,” he greeted. “You aren’t on your way out, are you?”
“I am, in fact. My meeting has concluded.”
Pennington’s dark eyes widened. “Meeting? I hope there weren’t more than fifty of you.” He chortled as if the Seditious Meetings Act was a jest instead of an abomination.
Jack gritted his teeth. “There were not. Once you go inside, you will note, however, that there are at least fifty persons in the subscription room.”
“But they’re talking and gambling, not discussing grievances.”
Arching a brow, Jack decided to provoke the man. “Are you saying we were raising grievances in our meeting?”
“I was joking,” Pennington said, pouting. “You’ve no sense of humor on this topic, I see.”
“None. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m for the Wicked Duke.” Which was where Jack usually encountered Pennington.
“Just came from there.” Pennington focused on something beyond Jack’s shoulder. “Speaking of the Wicked Duke, is that Tavistock?”
The air in Jack’s lungs escaped in a whoosh as he spun about and searched wildly for the man in question. There he was on the pavement, contemplating the entrance to the club, a diminutive figure in his typical overlarge costume.
Pennington was already on his way toward Tavistock before Jack could halt him. And what could he say anyway? He ended up muttering, “Bloody hell,” as he followed Pennington.
“Tavistock,” Pennington said, “I didn’t know you were coming here. We could have shared a hack.”
Tavistock nodded vaguely. “It was a spontaneous decision. I thought I’d come and see what I could find out about what you said earlier.”
“Indeed?” Pennington stroked his chin. “Let us go inside. We’ll have some brandy and poke around.” He grinned at Tavistock, and Jack didn’t like it one bit. What had Pennington said that had lured Tavistock to Brooks’s where Tavistock was most certainlynota member?
Jack gave Pennington a smooth smile, then turned a hardened gaze on the youngerman. “As it happens, I need to speak with Tavistock privately.”
“Ah, well. I’ll just go in, then.” Pennington looked toward Tavistock. “Find me when you’re finished. Mayhap I’ll have news for you.” His lips spread in an eager grin before he took himself into the club.
Tavistock didn’t quite meet Jack’s eyes. “Why do you need to speak with me?”
“Walk with me.” Jack pivoted, anxious to usher Tavistock away from the entrance. “I was just on my way to the Wicked Duke. We can share a hack.”
“As I said, I’ve only just arrived, so I won’t be leaving yet.” Tavistock’s tone was affable. “You heard Pennington. We have plans for a drink.”
Jack stepped toward Tavistock and lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “If you go inside, it’s likely someone will realize you are not a member.”
“How do you know I’m not a member?” Color rose in Tavistock’s cheeks above his dark brown whiskers. They were truly the most ridiculous things, only slightly worse than his wiry brown wig.
“Because last time I checked, Brooks’s didn’t extend membership to women.”
All the color above Lady Viola Fairfax’s faux facial hair drained until she was the color of alabaster.
“Shall we go?” He nearly offered her his arm. Wouldn’t that have set the tongues wagging!
She pressed her mouth into a firm line and glanced toward the door. Her hesitation was maddening. “You can’t go in. If you’re found out…” He shook his head briskly. “Does Eastleigh know you’re here?”
“That’s none of your concern.” She managed to keep her Tavistock voice in place, even in a whisper, and for that, he gave her credit.
“Then I’ll ask him.” He’d known Eastleigh since Oxford and considered him a good friend.
She blanched again. “Please don’t. I’ll go.” She muttered an oath.
“You’ve quite mastered this act,” he said.
She arched a brow at him. “Apparently, I haven’t.” Then she stalked past him, and he had to practically dash after her to keep up.
