“That was bloody fast.”

“Perhaps you should consult with Lord Pettiford for advice on how to move more quickly.”

Annoyed, Tobias stared at Lucien. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t haul you into the garden and plant you a facer.”

“Because I’ll give you one right back, and then you’ll be horribly unattractive to your prospective brides.” Lucien grinned, clearly enjoying needling Tobias about his wife hunt.

With a low grunt, Tobias started to turn. “Your company has been most helpful this evening. I’m off to speed up my endeavors.”

Lucien snagged his sleeve. “Wait just a moment, if you don’t mind.”

Exhaling, Tobias gave him his full attention.

“Cassandra has asked me to invite our aunt to the Phoenix Club so that she may act as sponsor for Cassandra to attend a ball. And for Miss Wingate, since Lady Pickering has never responded to our invitation.” He spoke in a near whisper, and Tobias moved closer so no one would overhear their conversation.

“Should we be discussing this in a ballroom?” Tobias asked softly. Who was and wasn’t invited to the Phoenix Club was a topic of great debate and inquiry. Anyone overhearing even a snippet of this conversation would most certainly crow about it.

Lucien lowered his voice even more. “No, but it’s an urgent matter.”

“You want to extend the invitation immediately?” Tobias smiled as he shook his head. “You are impossibly devoted to your sister.” He often wished he had a sibling for whom he could care about in that way. Perhaps he should try to think of Miss Wingate in that manner. Yes, a younger sister he would oversee and protect.

“Someone has to be,” Lucien said. “I’m merely trying to speak to as many of…us as possible. Will you stop by the club later?”

“I will. Are you prepared for your father and brother to be furious with you?”

Lucien smirked. “Always. Father will try to prohibit Cass from going to the balls, but I’ll win out in the end, particularly if Aunt Christina joins the cause.”

“Do we really want her though?” She possessed an air of insincerity that pricked Tobias’s ire.

“Think of another way for my sister and your ward to gain entry, and I’ll support it. Now go dance with Miss Goodfellow.”

“It’s your bloody club,” Tobias muttered. “If you can’t find a way for your own sister to come, whose fault is that?” With a final look over his shoulder, Tobias took himself off to the corner.

“Good evening, Lord Overton,” Mrs. Goodfellow greeted him. “How pleasing to see you this evening.”

He bowed to both women. “The pleasure is mine. Might we promenade and then dance, Miss Goodfellow?”

“I would appreciate that, thank you.”

Appreciate. What did that mean?

Christ, he was in a mood. And he still didn’t know why. He exhaled the tension from his shoulders and gave Miss Goodfellow his arm and a bright smile.