“If we’re able to find a way in,” Ivy said, pointing at a bottle-green door in a brick building half a block down the street, “I don’t see why not. After all, it’s just sitting there, empty, day after day. It’s not as though we’d be pilfering anything or leaving a mess behind. Knowing you, you’d leave the place tidier than you found it.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure that’s the point.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Good night, Sophie. I’ll see you next week.” The young seamstress sauntered down the alley, shaking her head with good-natured regret—as though she should have known better than to think Sophie Kendall had a daring bone in her body.

And something inside Sophie snapped. She called out, “You know, Ivy, I believe I shall consider the old tailor’s shop as an option.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ivy replied in a kindly if vaguely disbelieving tone. “Be careful as you make your way home.”

Home? Dash it all, Sophie wasn’t going home. She was off to have herself a peek at the tailor’s shop—and, if it proved suitable, the future meeting place of the Debutante Underground.

Before she could lose her nerve, she marched down the dark, dank alley, lifting her skirts to avoid a few lily-pad-sized puddles that shone in the moonlight. As she approached the green door, she glanced up and down the narrow lane, confirming no one was about. Ivy had already turned the corner, leaving Sophie alone, if one discounted the mice skittering in and out of the drainpipe behind her.

The chipped paint on the door revealed that it had once been a lighter color—gray, perhaps. A small, faded metal plate nailed to the brick on one side read “B. D. Peabody, Tailor.” Mullioned windows covered the top half of the door, but the panes were smudged with grime and dust, preventing her from seeing inside.

Vexed, she rifled through her reticule, pulled out her handkerchief, and vigorously rubbed at the center pane—gasping as the door swung open.

Gads. She hadn’t imagined it would be unlocked, much less unlatched. The faint scents of leather and cigars wafted through the door opening, but the interior was cloaked in shadows, still and quiet.

She placed her hand on the doorknob and hesitated. She hadn’t planned on breaking and entering into a vacant building this evening, but now that she was there, one foot already over the threshold, why shouldn’t she scout out the location? It would certainly save her the trouble of a return trip during the week, and she could only concoct so many excuses for leaving the house before Mama became suspicious.