Sophie dragged her thoughts back to the meeting in progress and watched an earl’s shy daughter—recently betrothed to a portly older man—furrow her brow during a rather explicit conversation about wedding night disappointments. But then another woman smiled fondly as she recounted the story of how her husband once took extra jobs at the docks just so that he could buy her a pretty hair comb—an extravagance they could ill afford. As usual, the women balanced their negative stories with uplifting ones, painting a picture that Sophie hoped was realistic and fair to both sexes.

Some women asked questions related to the evening’s topic, and others chimed in with their own experiences and advice. A few women simply listened raptly, soaking in the knowledge and camaraderie.

Time passed quickly, and when Sophie checked the old clock wedged between spools of thread and a basket of frippery on one of the workroom’s shelves, she realized they’d been meeting for almost two hours. Reluctantly, she left her spot at the back and made her way, once more, to the head of the table.

She waited for a pause in the conversation, then shot an apologetic glance at the women. “I’m afraid it’s time for us to bring our meeting to a close. On behalf of everyone, I’d like to express my thanks to Cecile”—she inclined her head toward Madam Laurent—“for allowing us to convene here again this week. I wanted to let you all know that I’m working on securing a larger space and hope to have some news in that regard by next week’s meeting.”

A murmur of approval and excitement swelled inside the room, and Sophie’s belly twisted. She couldn’t continue to impose on Madam Laurent week after week, and their group had clearly outgrown the back room of her dress shop—a few of the women had to share chairs and others had to stand. But Sophie had yet to find a suitable alternate location—something large and centrally located, with an inconspicuous entrance.

She pasted on a cheerful expression and continued. “Please, be safe as you return to your homes, and be mindful of the rules stated earlier, especially the first: the Debutante Underground shall not be discussed outside these walls. Until next time, good night.”

Several of the women embraced before filing out, a few at a time, so as not to create a throng on the pavement outside the shop. Meanwhile, Sophie began the process of setting the workspace back to rights. Dishes were washed, furniture was moved, and sewing projects were carefully returned to their former places. Ivy, one of the shop’s hardworking seamstresses, insisted on staying and helping Sophie after everyone else had left.

“Thank you,” Sophie said, handing Ivy the box with a few leftover scones. “Please, take these home and enjoy them.”