“Come, we have to look.” Cassandra was already striding toward the doors to the other side of the ballroom.

Dropping the cleaning rags near the bucket, Fiona hurried to join Cassandra.

The ballroom looked precisely the same on the men’s side—tall windows that looked out to the garden, a gleaming oak floor, elegant chandeliers, and several mirrors on the wall opposite the windows which made the already large room seem even more grand.

Cassandra stood in the center of the floor with her hands on her hips, her gaze flitting about. “I’d like to know how wealthy my brother is. This was not an inexpensive endeavor. I realize we haven’t seen everything, but so far every room is impeccably designed and beautifully decorated, just as he described. My father would never have given him money for this. He loathes the very idea of the club’s existence.” Cassandra turned toward her. “I am beginning to think it’s quite possible my brother is not the sole owner.”

“It would seem to support your aunt not being invited, though I suppose that could just be owing to the Star Chamber.”

“Perhaps, but my brother is most persuasive. Whatever the cause, membership is evidently not entirely up to him.”

Fiona was especially glad they’d executed their plan since it truly seemed they would not be able to attend the assemblies. “It’s good that we came today. This will likely be our only entrée into the Phoenix Club.”

“Until we are wed and duly invited.” Cassandra’s eyes darkened. “If my brother doesn’t ensure I receive an invitation to join the club, I will sever ties completely. Won’t that delight my father?” she added with a laugh that carried no humor.

Fiona thought of what Cassandra had just said a few minutes earlier about her father, as well as all the other times she’d mentioned his coldness. “Cassandra, if you ever—”

Cassandra lifted her finger to her lips. “Shh. Did you hear that?” she whispered, looking toward a closed pair of doors leading from the ballroom.

Without waiting for Fiona to answer, Cassandra grasped her by the hand and pulled her toward a wide archway cloaked with a thick curtain. She released Fiona and slowly parted the drape. “Stair hall.” Inclining her head for Fiona to follow, she held the curtain until Fiona passed through.

Standing in the stair hall, they could see directly into the entry where a footman stood near the door. He didn’t see them, but if he pivoted…

“Upstairs!” Cassandra whispered urgently, dashing for the stairs. Fiona bolted after her. As they climbed, she muttered, “So close to seeing the bacchanalia portrait.”

At the top of the stairs, they arrived at a landing. Across from them was a closed door.

Another voice, this one quite deep, prompted Fiona’s heart to pound. Thinking they should have left after encountering the housekeeper or that they should not have come at all, she darted to the right.

In front of her was a door to the outside—presumably to a terrace since they were on the first floor. Before she could contemplate her next move, a door to her right opened and out stepped a gentleman.