Page 88 of Impeccable
“Will they really? You’ve been very careful about membership.”
“Yes, but as I repeatedly tell everyone—the final decisions aren’t up to me. There are members, such as Lady Hargrove, who don’t necessarily share our vision. But, they wanted to be part of something new and exciting.”
She heard the agitation in his voice and sought to ease his mind. “The club will be better for their departure, won’t it?”
“In the end, yes, but the club’s reputation could be impaired in the short term.”
It seemed he wasn’t revealing everything. “What aren’t you saying?” He glanced at her, and she sensed his hesitation. She decided to alleviate his worry. “I have to think you met with the anonymous pair on the membership committee last night. I have thought for some time that Lady Pickering is one of them. She is a very powerful voice in Society, and if she is not in favor of you expelling the Hargroves, that will almost ensure the club is negatively affected. I don’t know who the other person is, but I believe it’s a gentleman and that he has considerable influence over you.”
Lucien snapped his gaze to hers, surprise etched into his features.
“Am I wrong about any of that?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap.
“No. You are far too smart for my good.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and straightened himself entirely, pulling his legs up. “I don’t own the club outright. I can’t tell you more than that, but suffice it to say that while you—and others—think I have the final say in all matters, I do not.”
“Are they the reason the Hargroves were invited?”
The subtle lift of one brow was the only answer he gave.
“So, Lady Hargrove must stay,” Evie said, her extremities feeling suddenly lighter.
His gaze met hers with regret. “No, they’re allowing me to expel the Hargroves, but—”
“Ihave to go,” Evie whispered. “It’s all right. I expected as much.”
He scooted down the settee toward her, his face a mask of anguish. “I don’t want you to.”
“I know that. If you recall, I didn’t want this job in the first place. You convinced me to take it.”
“Please don’t do that.” He looked down at her hands for a moment before he spoke again. “You love what you do. We both know it, so please don’t try to tell me otherwise.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Evie took a breath and was surprised to find she could produce a smile. “It’s been a good two years.” The best of her life. So far. Perhaps the best was still yet to come. “I always knew it could be temporary. I reinvented myself once—twice, really.” She counted her decision to work in the brothel as a new beginning. “I’ll just do it again.”
He smiled faintly, his dark eyes glimmering with admiration. “You know I’ll help however I can.”
“Not this time, Lucien. I mean it. I’ll be fine on my own—financially and in every other way.”
“What about Lord Gregory?”
The question momentarily upset her equilibrium. She’d been trying very hard not to think about him. Everything else was quite enough at the moment. “What about him? I don’t blame him, if that’s what you mean.”
“I don’t either. He was a pawn—who refused to be manipulated. I hope this won’t affect what you share.”
She looked at him sharply. “Please just leave it.” Flattening her palms against her lap, she gently shook the tension from her shoulders. “Now, let us determine next steps. I will formally resign as patroness and as a member of the Phoenix Club, then I will move my things out of my office. Will tomorrow be soon enough?”
The anguish returned to his features, and Evie wondered if Lucien was perhaps taking this harder than she was. No, of course not. He was just reacting differently. This was a situation he despised—one in which there was nothing he could do to change the outcome to be what he wanted. He likely felt defeated.
Lucien swore. “I hate this.”
“I do not enjoy it either, but we must carry on.”
“You are awfully British for a Frenchwoman,” he said wryly.
“I am far more British than French, as you know.” She didn’t even remember her homeland, and had no plans to return. “The most important thing is for the Phoenix Club to go on. I shall be heartbroken if all my—and your—hard work has been for naught.”
“Bloody hell, Evie, you are taking this far better than I am.”
