Edgemonts’ had been, but then their house was bigger overall too. Hundreds of candles illuminated the space and mirrors probably made the size seem more impressive.
They started on a circuit of the perimeter. Fiona wondered if she would see her guardian.
“You’re a friend of Lord Lucien’s?” Fiona asked. “Lady Cassandra has become a dear friend to me since I came to London.”
“I don’t know him well, no. We’ve only recently become more directly acquainted. He attended Oxford with my older brother.”
“I see.”
“I still don’t have an invitation!” a lady declared in an impossible-to-ignore shrill tone as they passed her. “I can’t believe you do!”
Fiona glanced toward the woman who’d spoken. In her late thirties, her face was quite florid and her expression outraged.
“I’m sure yours will come soon,” the other woman, who stood in profile to them, soothed in a calmer, quieter voice.
“I wonder if they’re speaking of the Phoenix Club,” Fiona said as they left the pair of ladies behind. “It seems to be quite the rage.”
“It does indeed. I was recently invited, actually.”
Fiona tipped her head to look up at him. “Were you? Well done.”
He glanced down at her with a wry smile. “I didn’t do anything.”
“And did you accept?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I only received the invitation yesterday. Lord Lucien did search me out at Brooks’s last night to ensure I received it.”
“I think you must accept, don’t you? It seems a particular honor. You heard and saw that woman. Becoming a member of the Phoenix Club is important to one’s standing.”
“I’m not sure that’s true. There are those who say it’s beneath them, that to have a club that accepts both men and women, even if they are mostly separated, is beyond the pale.”
Fiona nearly snorted. She could think of many things that were beyond the pale, and this was not one of them. “Well, I can’t become a member because I am unwed. I would argue that is beyond something, if not the pale.”
“My brother hasn’t been invited, and he’s the heir. Isn’t that strange?”
“I’m not sure it is. It seems they invite very specific people—or not—and one must assume they have a good reason.” She slowed. “Is it a they? Or does Lord Lucien make all the decisions?”
“From my understanding, there is a committee.” He lowered his voice. “The Star Chamber.”
Fiona briefly pressed her hand to her lips and met his gaze. “They don’t really call themselves that.”
He shook his head. “That’s what others call them.”
“Those who aren’t invited, I’d wager.” The Star Chamber was not exactly a favorable term. It also inferred secrecy. “Who is on this committee?”
“No one knows for sure, but Lord Lucien is obviously a member since he owns the club. Or one would assume anyway.”
“I think that’s a fair assumption. The rest are secret?”
“The ladies’ side has four patronesses, and it is also presumed they are on the committee.”
“Who are these patronesses?” Fiona wondered if they could be petitioned to somehow allow her and Cassandra entry to a ball. Perhaps one of them would be willing to act as a sponsor. She had no idea if any of that was even possible, but why not try?
“Mrs. Renshaw is one of them. She oversees the ladies’ side in much the way Lord Lucien manages the gentlemen’s. Lord Lucien explained that much to me last evening.”
Mrs. Renshaw. Fiona would speak with Cassandra about her as soon as possible.
“I think you should feel flattered that you’ve been invited,” Fiona said.
He didn’t immediately respond. She looked at his profile, his long, dark blond lashes sweeping down as he blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I suppose I do. I am not, ah, typically at the top of anyone’s list when it comes to social opportunities.” A faint shade of pink briefly swathed his upper cheekbones. “I probably shouldn’t have admitted that to you.”
“Nonsense, I’m glad you did. I can wholeheartedly understand your position. I may be the ward of an earl, but I’m from a small village in Shropshire, and I’ve never been anywhere before. Then yesterday I was presented to the queen.”
“That’s quite an advancement.” He grinned at her, and she acknowledged he was rather handsome. “This is really my first Season too. I’ve spent the last several years teaching at Christ Church College at Oxford.”
“How fascinating. What did you teach?”
“Religious studies. I’m intending to become a vicar, though my father hopes I’ll be a bishop one day.”
“Do you want that?”
The pink returned to his cheeks. “Honestly? Yes.” He