“While you’re probably right, I suspect she doesn’t want to align herself with the club because it may alienate some people with whom she would prefer to remain connected. And she won’t decline because I suspect she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.” Because she’d been a close friend of his mother’s. That made sense to Tobias.

A brief smile passed over Lucien’s lips. “Furthermore, I believe she very much supports the fact that the club includes women, even if we keep the sexes mostly separate. Indeed, that division is what keeps us respectable.”

“I would think she’d join eventually,” MacNair said quietly. “The ladies’ club has four exceptionally admirable patronesses. Lady Pickering would fit right in.”

Lucien snorted softly. “Don’t think I haven’t presented that argument. Mrs. Holland-Ward is a good friend of hers.” She was one of the patronesses along with Lady Dungannon, Lady Hargrove, and Mrs. Renshaw.

“You still haven’t told us about Miss Wingate,” Wexford said, raising his voice back to a normal volume. “Are she and Lucien’s sister going to be rivals to be named the Season’s diamond?”

Lucien snorted. “Cassandra will gleefully cede the attention. She’s not terribly enthused about having her Season, but our father will not allow her to push it off any longer.”

“Especially since you’ve completely rejected his efforts to see you wed,” MacNair said. “He has to manage someone.”

“I suppose it’s possible Miss Wingate could be the Season’s diamond.” Tobias had been surprised and perhaps a bit unnerved by her beauty. With a heart-shaped face graced with a slender nose and pink lips that formed a perfect bow and a gently curved figure, she possessed the form and features of an ideal English miss. But her dark red hair contrasted against the fair cream of her countenance made her stand out and demanded one ponder whether her temperament matched the serenity of her countenance. Or perhaps it was the spark in her brown eyes. With unmatched curiosity, her gaze assessed everything she encountered as if she were committing each item to memory.

“She’s pretty?” Wexford asked.

“Yes, but she has dark red hair.” Which Tobias found arresting. “Some will find it off-putting, I imagine.”

“Then they aren’t worth her time,” MacNair said. He was well-used to people judging him based on the almond color of his skin, or at least regarding him as if he were out of place in Society.

Wexford raised his glass. “Hear, hear.”

They all shared in the toast.

“Enough about my ward,” Tobias said. “I’ve far more pressing matters than dealing with her. Thankfully, Lady Pickering will have things well in hand so that I may focus on my own predicament.”

“Ah, yes, the need for a wife,” Wexford said. He leaned back in his chair and, smirking, looked toward Lucien. “What about Lucien’s sister?”

Lucien glowered at him in response.

Tobias shook his head at Lucien. “You do realize she’s going to wed, and you won’t get a say.”

“I know that.” He scowled. “But none of you can marry her, do you understand?”