“I think it’s best if your mother and I take a hansom home instead. Then you three may stay as long as you like and George will see you home,” he said, referring to their family driver.

Decision made, her parents gave their farewells and departed. Waiters bustled in and out of the salon, clearing away the dishes and glassware. When they were finally alone, Florence turned to Mamie. “You were awfully anxious to rid ourselves of them.”

Mamie’s mouth curved into a knowing smile, the one she wore when hiding a secret. “And you’ll soon see why, little sister.”

“Well, I want to know,” Justine said. “What’s happening?”

Mamie leaned back in her chair, champagne glass in hand. “Perhaps I wished for more time with my sisters.”

“I’d sooner believe you plan to run an oyster cart in the Bowery,” Florence said. “Tell me what this is about.”

Instead of answering, Mamie handed Florence a note.

Make certain Florence leaves alone. I have a surprise for her.

—M

Who on earth . . . ? Then it hit her with the subtlety of three aces. Clayton. Was he downstairs? Excitement fizzed and popped in her veins, just like the champagne she’d been drinking all night. Goodness, how she longed to see him.

Confusion quickly overshadowed her excitement, however. Clay never left the Bronze House. It made no sense for him to come to Sherry’s only to escort her home. “When did you receive this?”

“During appetizers.” Mamie looked at her fingernails as if appreciating them. “And I kept your little rendezvous a secret this whole time.”

“Why do I have a feeling I will owe you something for that favor?”

“Because you will. Frank is helping me with one of the tenement wives. She’s been arrested and there may be stretches of time where I’ll need to disappear. You will cover for me with our parents.”

“Arrested!” Justine was aghast. “For what?”

“Murdering her husband,” Mamie said. “Frank plans to get her acquitted. But he needs my help so—”

“I’ll bet he does,” Florence said under her breath, which prompted Mamie to elbow her. “Ouch! Fine, I’ll make sure Daddy and Mama don’t suspect a thing.”

“You are the best liar in the family,” Justine said to Florence. “You have a bizarre talent for thinking on your feet.”

“It’s not hard. All you have to do is sound like you know what you’re talking about. People believe you if you speak with confidence.” She pushed her chair away from the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to see who is outside.”

“But I thought it was Clayton Madden,” Justine said, rising, as well.