“I have never kept a mistress.” His tone was cool, but his eyes didn’t meet Tobias’s.

Tobias didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t know much about Aldington or his marital situation beyond the fact that he and his wife seemed to spend little time together. That fact and Aldington’s query about Barbara was why Tobias had considered that perhaps Lucien’s brother was not as staid as they believed him to be.

Aldington finished his port. “You must excuse me. I’m afraid this pain in my head insists I retire.” He stood. “Will I see you here in another few days?”

“Perhaps sooner,” Tobias said, wondering if he could bring himself to suffer another visit so quickly. It wasn’t that White’s was terrible, but the Phoenix Club was so much more than a club where men gathered to drink, gamble, and converse. And not just because Lucien had included women in the entire plan, though that was a large part of it. The purpose of the Phoenix Club was to include those who were often excluded, to offer a haven to those who had nowhere else to find comfort and camaraderie.

When Tobias had been at the butt of a scandal two years ago, many people he knew, including some he’d thought were friends, had turned their backs on him because it was the fashionable thing to do. Lucien, on the other hand, had founded the Phoenix Club and made sure that Tobias was one of the first members, along with Wexford and MacNair, who were also treated as outcasts from time to time. Since then, inviting people who were often on the outside looking in had been one of the primary objectives of the club. Tobias was proud to serve on its membership committee.

“Is there any information you’d like to impart that might help me win a wager?” Aldington smiled—a rarity in Tobias’s experience. “I jest, of course. I do not make wagers.”

“Of course. And no, there is nothing to share.” Tobias picked up his glass as Aldington inclined his head and bade him good evening.

Alone at the table, Tobias swallowed the rest of his port, eager to follow Aldington out. He’d done his duty for the evening. Now he needed a proper drink with proper company.

A short while later, Tobias entered the library on the first floor of the Phoenix Club and poured himself a glass of smuggled Scotch whisky. As he’d walked from White’s, his mind had turned to Miss Wingate. His earlier annoyance with her had faded, but he was still troubled by the events of the musicale.

He hadn’t asked to be her guardian, nor had he promised anyone that he’d see her wed. Perhaps he’d really been annoyed with his father. No, not annoyed, livid. He’d completely tossed Tobias’s life into shambles.

“Dipping into the whisky, eh Deane?” Lucien strode into the library. “Damn, I mean Overton. I was doing so well too.”