Page 46 of Impeccable
“Welcome back, Mrs. Renshaw. I trust you had a nice holiday.”
“I did, thank you. And you?” She’d felt badly for not being here for their celebration the day after Christmas in particular, but Lucien had overseen the event and assured her all would be well. There was still the Epiphany party they would host next week, and Evie looked forward to that.
“We had a lovely time here at the club,” Amanda replied. “Lord Lucien takes such fine care of us.”
He did indeed. Everyone who worked here had needed a second chance, an opportunity to find a place to not only work but to belong—a home.
“I’m so glad to hear it,” Evie said before continuing into the club. She passed the ladies’ dining room and the library on her way to the staircase that took her up to her office on the first floor. Situated in the corner with a lovely view of the back garden, it was her home away from home, a place where she absolutely belonged. Also thanks to Lucien.
When he’d offered her this opportunity almost three years ago, she’d been more than surprised. She’d ended their contract—he’d been her last protector—and she’d been contemplating what to do next. He’d believed in her, and that had made all the difference.
She was halfway through her stack of correspondence, having just picked up a missive from another patroness, Lady Hargrove, when Lucien poked his head into her office. “Morning, Evie.”
It was remarkable to her that he never, ever slipped up and called her Belle. He wouldn’t now, not after this much time, but even in the beginning, he was perfect in his address.
She smiled at him. “Good morning, Lucien. Thank you for managing everything while I was away.”
“It was my pleasure. Ada was here twice, so that is why everything is perfectly orderly.”
Ada Hunt, the Viscountess Warfield, was the club’s bookkeeper. They’d met while Evie had left London to reinvent herself as a widow. Ada had been in need of a new beginning, and she was exceptionally clever. So clever that Lucien had sent her to help organize his friend’s estate. Injured in the war in Spain, Warfield had been in a bad place and in need of assistance. He hadn’t wanted it, but then he’d fallen in love with Ada. They’d wed this past summer, but Ada had retained her position. They lived about a day’s ride from London, so she came to town often. They would come for the Season since Max, her husband, sat in the House of Lords.
“She wrote to me with updates,” Evie said.
Lucien deposited himself in a chair next to Evie’s desk, stretching his legs out. “Of course she did. How is Heloise and her family?”
Lucien was one of very few people who knew of their true relationship. “Very pleasant, thank you. Henry is getting so big. How was your holiday?”
“Happily focused on the new heir. My father absolutely doted on baby Robbie.” Lucien spoke of his nephew who’d been born in late November. The only letter he’d sent to Evie had been about that. Lucien was a terrible correspondent. “I am quite relieved to no longer be the spare.”
“I can well imagine.” Nothing would have horrified Lucien more than to inherit his father’s dukedom. Because nothing would have horrified his father more. Lucien’s older brother, Constantine, was the favorite son and now that he and his wife finally had an heir, he was likely even more beloved. “Did His Grace actuallydote?”
“I know it’s difficult to conceive.” A pained expression flashed over Lucien’s face. “It was almost revolting.”
“I’m glad for Con and for his son.” She knew that Lucien was only revolted because that kind of behavior from his father was foreign to him. And it hurt. Not that Lucien would characterize it like that. He buried his pain so deeply that Evie sometimes wondered if he even remembered it was there.
“I’m surprised you’re back this soon.”
“You knew I’d be here for the Epiphany party.”
“Which isn’t until next week,” he said, fixing her with a probing stare. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. I just missed being in town.” She wasn’t going to tell him about her affair with Gregory. Never mind that he occupied many of her thoughts, mostly when he would arrive in London. She also couldn’t stop thinking of Ash. The drawing of him was a poor substitute. “There was one thing.”
One of his dark brows arched, and he drew his legs up, sitting straight and angling his body toward her. “Oh?”
“Threadbury Hall borders Witney Court. Alfred and Heloise hosted a dinner and invited the new marquess and his wife. Once she learned I was a patroness of the club, she became fixated on securing an invitation for herself and her husband.”
“Fixated?”
“Every time I encountered her, she attempted to win my favor and spoke of their wanting to be members.”
Lucien stroked his jaw. “I hadn’t considered Witney. His brother, Lord Gregory, is a member and much more in keeping with whom we include. Honestly, in all my interactions with Witney, I found him somewhat insincere.”
“I agree with everything you just said. The marquess, and his wife in particular, don’t seem the sort to be Phoenix Club members.” She frowned. “I overheard her disparaging Heloise and Alfred. She knows of their backgrounds and finds them horribly lacking, of course. She was dismissive of them until she realized I was their guest and a dear friend. Then it became apparent that courting their favor might help her campaign.”
Lucien smirked. “And did it?”
Evie rolled her eyes. “You know it did not. I found it repulsive.”
