“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—”

“I have 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.”