They all climbed the steps, amid some missteps and laughter, and entered the building.

“The evening’s entertainment,” Evan murmured.

“I wonder if they know how they are about to earn their coin,” I said, unease settling in the pit of my innards.

Evan passed me the flagon. “I know a few of the Covent Garden girls—”

I stiffened at this casual admission—I could not help it. He eyed my reaction, then gave a crooked smile: You must remember, I am living in the criminal world.

I sent my own crooked smile back: I know.

Even so, had he lain with any of them? The unbidden thought brought a stab of wild jealousy. Ridiculous. I had to remember he was a man, untethered by marital bonds or family, and, unlike a woman, he did not need to contend with the possibility of bearing an illegitimate child or being cast out of society. Besides, to be jealous of his past was to walk a road to madness.

“From what the girls have told me, every encounter is a gamble,” he said. “Will they get paid? Will they get hurt? Will they get the pox? Will they get with child? And sometimes all for just a few pennies.”

I looked back at the club door, now closed, and took a swig of lemonade in an attempt to wash the unease from my mouth. Five women had gone in and, if Dorothy was telling the truth, five were not guaranteed to come out. A gamble, indeed.

Although I no longer believed in the grace of God, I sent a prayer up into the heavens. Or perhaps it was more a plea to the criminal world of good and bad fortune: let all of these five women be lucky.

13

Someone was shaking my shoulder, insistent but gentle. I opened my eyes. Still dark. My cheek was pressed against Evan’s broad shoulder, every breath drawing in the comforting smell of woolen cloth, soap, and warm male skin. I had, it appeared, fallen asleep and used him as a pillow.

“Sorry,” I muttered, and sat up, my neck tight from the crooked position. I dug my cold fingertips into the stiff muscle and yawned, still somewhat bleary. “You should have woken me.”

“Nothing has happened for the past few hours, so I figured you may as well sleep.” He smiled. “I can report you do not snore.”

I squinted at him. “I am glad to know it.”

“But look.” He nodded toward the club. “The meeting is over.”