“Eleanor Young,” he chastised as his cheeks reddened. “Do not go telling everyone my business.”

“It’s almost the twentieth century, Daddy. We’re much more open-minded about these things nowadays. Besides, you’re a widower. You’re allowed to have fun.”

Turning to Alice, he said, “It was lovely to meet you, Miss Lusk. I wish you luck with your future endeavors—which I hear might include the Duke of Lockwood.”

“What?” Nellie asked sharply, the smile falling from her face. “The duke?”

Alice shrugged, feeling conflicted about Lockwood after Kit’s comments earlier. “He took me for a drive. It’s nothing serious.”

“Oh. I had no idea,” Nellie said. “Good for you. Well, we should get going, Daddy.”

With final wave, Nellie left the kitchen with her father and Alice was alone. A quick glance out the door showed the club had nearly cleared out, too. The tables were empty, the dishes washed and the waiters dismissed. Kit was shaking hands and thanking the remaining guests, making them laugh and grin. He really was good at making others feel comfortable, for knowing what people wanted to hear. Everyone liked him. Including her.

I am really going to miss you.

Indeed, she was going to miss him, too. The notion of never seeing him again like this, where they could be alone, gutted her. Why had she gone and fallen for a man who would never love her back? Stupid, stupid Alice.

They still had tonight, though.

She was not about to give him up, not until tomorrow. Then she could deal with her heartache and regrets. She could sit and ponder all of the ways she could have acted differently, choices that would have protected her heart. But that was not for right now.

Because if this was the last time, she planned on making it count.

Leaving the kitchen, she found the washroom and freshened up. There was no time for a bath, so she did her best to wash off the sweat and grime of the evening. She likely smelled of duck fat and garlic, but there was no help for it now. When she emerged, only Kit and Preston were left in the dining room, sitting at a table and smoking cigars.

Preston saw her first. “Alice! Come over and celebrate with us.”

She lowered herself into a chair as Kit poured her a glass of champagne. “I thought you’d left,” he said, and placed the bottle on the table.

Was that relief or unhappiness in his voice? She couldn’t tell. “I wanted to see everyone else off before I departed.” And I wanted to see you alone.

Preston lifted his glass. “I predict memberships will sell out tomorrow. To a job well done!”

“To a job well done,” Kit said, and touched his glass to Preston’s.