“I will say something, but don’t be surprised if nothing happens.”

Clifford clapped Gregory’s upper arm. “Susan will be delighted.”

Always Susan. Gregory clenched his jaw. “You’ll have to excuse me now, as I’ve another appointment.”

“Of course.” Clifford stepped aside. “I do hope you’ll call at Witney House soon. We’d love to see you.”

Gregory waved before continuing on his way. The giddiness he’d felt earlier had been replaced by a sickening weight. Ultimately, there was nothing he could do to ensure Clifford and Susan received an invitation to join the Phoenix Club. What would happen when they were still ignored? Would Clifford work to thwart Gregory at every turn?

While Gregory knew that working for the government would involve a certain amount of politics, he hadn’t expected it from his brother. But, really, he should have done. As he left Westminster and stepped into the gray winter day, he heard his father’s voice: “Your brother’s priority will always be himself—never forget that.”

Gregory would not.

The patroness room was on the second floor of the ladies’ side of the Phoenix Club and was for the express use of the patronesses. The only nonpatroness who’d ever been inside, aside from the maids, was Ada.

But she wouldn’t be here today since the primary topic of business would be the addition of new patronesses, one of whom would hopefully be Ada. Evie could hardly wait for her to join her in this lofty rank. They would laugh about how a former courtesan and governess had risen so high. Then they would count their blessings for the comfort they now enjoyed—which wasn’t reliant on their position. They’d both worked hard and come a long way, and they were grateful.

As Evie looked over the refreshment tray, she wondered how Gregory’s meeting with Lord Hargrove had gone. She looked forward to hearing about it later when Gregory came to spend the night with her. Well, a portion of the night, since he arrived after midnight and left before dawn.

He was careful to come in through the garden under the cover of darkness. Still, Evie had told her loyal servants that he would be visiting. None had batted an eye. In fact, her maid, Delilah, had told her she was thrilled to see Evie engaging in something that gave her joy.

The arrival of Emma, Lady Dungannon, drew Evie from her thoughts. “Am I the first one here?” she asked.

Evie stepped away from the table, where there was an assortment of cakes and biscuits, as well as the club’s finest sherry, which was their typical drink of choice for these meetings. They’d long abandoned the pretense of putting out tea or lemonade when they all went directly for the sherry.