“Er,” said Philippa. “Everyone? They’ve a rigorous qualifying process for membership, followed by a vote all members must be present for…The patronesses of Almack’s wish they were so discerning. The club is so secretive and exclusive, they won’t allow nonmembers even to cross their threshold.”

“If they know you’re coming,” said Elizabeth.

Graham nodded. “The Electi Society meets for supper during the season, followed by wine and lively discourse until the wee hours of the morning on the subjects of ancient and natural philosophy.” He tucked his pencil in his pocket. “We’re not interested in any of that.”

“I am,” muttered Philippa.

Jacob set down his hedgehog. “The season has not yet begun, making this an optimal time to strike.”

“Not all members of the Society are fashionable enough to have somewhere to go during the summers,” Philippa said. “They may still take suppers there, if unofficially.”

“Which is why we’ll sneak inside in broad daylight,” Tommy said. “Long before supper time. The club will be empty.”

“Of gentlemen,” Philippa acknowledged. “What about maids or other staff?”

Graham held up a journal. “I’ve annotated timetables for each employee. Staff has a holiday on Sundays until late afternoon, so the butler has been guarding his ale at the pub instead.”

Jacob gestured at a shelf across the room. “Tommy has sketched extensive maps of the area.”

“Marjorie completed her decoy forgeries,” Elizabeth added. “We need little more than half an hour to break in, make the switch, and walk out.”

“Not forgeries,” Marjorie said. “Decorative replicas.”

“It sounds as though you have a plan for everything,” Philippa said. Of course they did. They were Wynchesters.

“It’s ten o’clock,” Elizabeth said.

“On Sunday morning,” Graham added meaningfully.

Philippa’s mind felt giddy. They meant to strike at this precise moment.

“I want to see the new manuscript before Philippa takes it home.” Marjorie turned toward the door.

Jacob gathered his hedgehogs to his chest and pushed to his feet. “Hear that little noise they’re making? It’s mealtime.”

“I’ll help feed them,” Elizabeth said.

“Wait,” Philippa stammered. “Aren’t you going to break into the Electi Society?”

“We all help in our own way, depending on our specific talents,” Chloe explained. “Marjorie is wonderful at creating forgeries, but awful at sneaking about undetected. Being part of a family doesn’t mean everyone does everything. It means everyone does their part.”

Graham lifted the journal. “Such as your comprehensive list of the few remaining collectors in England still in possession of a Northrup manuscript. That allowed us to act swiftly.”

He was trying to say… When Tommy had dressed as Great-Aunt Wynchester to bring her the Cambridge volume, she hadn’t been trying to exclude Philippa. Tommy wouldn’t have known where to begin without her. Philippa had already played her part. Tommy was just doing hers.