“Sort of an occupational necessity, you mean?”

The ladies nodded.

“I see. Well, be that as it may, the fact remains that we shall need to take immediate action to bring this unendurable situation to a close.”

“What can we do?” Laura asked hesitantly. “Do you wish us to disguise ourselves in men’s clothing and descend upon Mr. Jackson’s rooms?”

Gillian eyed the women’s lush figures. Disguising them as men was clearly not an option.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” gasped Anne as she burst into the room ahead of an unhappy-looking Tremayne. “The White Dove was telling me the most amazing bit of news about Lord Weston—”

“We’ve heard it,” Madelyn said, scooting over to make room on the love seat.

“Oh,” Anne said, pouting a little at this turn of events.

“White Dove?” Gillian asked.

“The Duke of Marlborough’s mistress,” Laura explained. “She’s the undisputed leader of the demimonde. Anne, Lady Weston needs our help to stop this silly duel.”

Anne’s pout disappeared as her eyes began to sparkle. “Shall we nobble them? I’ve always wanted to try my hand at a bit of honest nobbling.”

“Anne!” Beverly said with a frown. “I’m sure Lady Weston has a plan that does not involve something so very crude.”

“Yes, indeed, I do,” Gillian said with a smile for her mistress friends. “It’s much nicer than nobbling, and really very simple.”

Five faces turned to her expectantly.

“I want you to seduce the men at Gentlemen Jackson’s.”

***

Three hours later Gillian alighted from the carriage. She looked at number 13, Bond Street, and gave a little sigh. “It doesn’t look like much, does it?”

“Mmmm, no,” Charlotte said, watching a handsome young blood enter the next-door establishment. “Let’s go there instead. Fencing. Gilly, you know how you love swords!”

“Oooh, Henry Angelo’s school,” Anne trilled as she stepped out of the second carriage. “I’ve been there. You’d like it, Lady Charlotte. There are ever so many young gentleman who learn to fence there.”

“No,” Gillian said firmly, tugging her cousin toward the proper door. “Later. Perhaps. If you behave.”

“Pooh, who wants to behave? You don’t have any fun that way.” Charlotte shot longing glances toward the second door.

“You do, or you shan’t come with us and watch the mistresses seduce the gentlemen. Honestly, Charlotte, it’s a full day’s work trying to keep you proper!”

Crouch, standing next to them, blanched at her words. “You want to go inside the boxing saloon, m’lady? Am I ’earin’ you correctly? You want to go in?”

“Yes, Crouch, that’s correct. I plan to—”

Crouch shook his head and raised his hook. “No, m’lady. I can’t allow it. ’Is lordship would be stringin’ my gut out thinner’n a blue-eyed cat’s smellers. Ye’ll not be wantin’ to see me with my guts like that, now would you, m’lady?”

“That pitiful tone in your voice is very effective, Crouch,” Charlotte said in a stage whisper. “If you like, I can show you an expression that would highly complement it. You might have better luck that way.”