man had ever been a boy. Perhaps he had sprung from somewhere fully formed, like a blond Greek demigod.
“Ladies.” Lucie slapped a thick stack of papers onto her speaker’s desk. Satisfied that she had everyone’s attention, she gave the group a dark glance. “Our mission has just become more difficult. The Duke of Montgomery is the new advisor to the Tory election campaign.”
Well, speaking of the devil.
A shocked murmur rose around Annabelle. She understood that some Tories were in favor of giving women the vote, but most were against it, whereas the opposing Liberals had a few members against women’s suffrage and most in favor. The duke had thrown his weight behind the wrong party.
Lucie emerged from behind the desk with her papers. “Drastic circumstances demand drastic measures,” she said as she handed out sheets, “so I propose we meet MPs in their offices from now on, and we will find out everything about them beforehand: their likes, their dislikes, and most importantly, their weaknesses. Then we tailor our approach to each man. He thinks he’s an expert on justice? Use Plato to argue with him. He thinks his children will suffer should his wife get the vote? Tell him how independent women make better mothers. In short, ladies—know thy enemy.”
Annabelle nodded. Strategic and manipulative—that usually worked.
The sheet Lucie had handed her was divided neatly into sections: general characteristics . . . voting record . . . notable scandals . . . botheration. This information was hardly common knowledge in her circles. She’d have to scour scandal sheets and public records—but when? Doing her coursework and tutoring pupils to pay Gilbert already pushed her working hours well into the night.
The door to the antechamber creaked, and Hattie crept into the room. She met Lucie’s evil eye with an apologetic little smile and settled next to Annabelle in a cloud of expensive perfume.
“Good morning, Catriona, Annabelle,” she chirped. “I’m late. What did I miss?”
Annabelle handed her a sheet. “We are going to spy on men of influence.”
“How exciting. Oh, these would make a fabulous handbook on eligible bachelors!”
A snarl sounded from Lucie’s direction. “Eligible bachelors? Have you paid any attention during our meetings?”
Hattie gave a startled huff.
“No man is eligible as long as you become his property the moment you marry him,” Lucie said darkly.
“It’s true, though, that the marriage-minded mamas will have a lot of this information,” Lady Mabel dared to argue from the couch across.
“You may go about it by all means possible,” Lucie allowed. “Just not marriage.”
“And what makes you think the MPs will receive us?” Catriona asked.
“There’s an election in March. Politicians like to look accessible in the months leading up to election day.” Lucie turned to Annabelle, her elfin face expectant. “What do you think of this approach?”
“The idea is excellent,” Annabelle said truthfully.
Lucie gave a satisfied little smile. “You inspired me. Seeing you walk up to Montgomery as if he were a mere mortal made me step back and look at our routine with a fresh eye.”
“Finding information on Montgomery will be difficult,” Hattie said. “He may be divorced, and we all know he wants his ancient castle back. But there’s nothing ever written about him in the gossip sheets, and I read them all.”
Lucie wrinkled her nose. “Because he’s a favorite of the queen, so the press doesn’t dare touch him. No, we need drastic measures where Montgomery is concerned. Catriona, do you not tutor his brother? Lord Devereux?”
Catriona shook her head. “It was last term, in hieroglyphics.”
“Excellent,” Lucie said. “Find an excuse for your paths to cross and then you inveigle yourself . . .”
Catriona recoiled. “Me? Oh no.”
Lucie’s eyes narrowed. “Why ever not? You are already acquainted.”
“I taught him hieroglyphs,” Catriona mumbled, “that’s quite different from . . .”
“. . . inveigling,” Hattie supplied.
“But—”
Catriona made to disappear into her plaid.
“Never mind,” Lucie said brusquely. “Annabelle will do it.”
Annabelle looked up, astonished and a little alarmed. “Me?”
“If you please.”
“I’m afraid I cannot think of any reason to introduce myself to his lordship.”
Lucie began to look strained. “You do not need a reason. You are the most beautiful of all of us. Try looking terribly impressed by whatever he says and a young man is liable to tell you all his secrets before he knows it.”
“I’m not—” Annabelle began, when Hattie cut her off with a cheerful wave.
“But you are,” the girl chirped, “very beautiful, such a lovely profile. I have been thinking how I’d love for you to sit for my Helen of