Improper (The Phoenix Club #1) - Darcy Burke Page 0,52

not to when he went out of his way to do nice things, such as procure a pianoforte and hire a teacher who was coming to give her a lesson on Friday.

“You’re thinking about Lord Gregory,” Cassandra observed.

She wasn’t at all, but Fiona wouldn’t admit that. And she certainly wouldn’t reveal who she was thinking about.

“Is that the servants’ entrance up ahead?” Fiona asked. Near the corner of Duke Street and Ryder Street, there was a gate to a set of steep, narrow stairs that led down to the lower level of the women’s side of the club.

“Yes.” Cassandra quickened her pace, and Fiona hurried to keep up.

When they arrived at the gate, Cassandra took her arm from Fiona’s and reached for the latch. Fiona tipped her head back to look up at the building. “So this is the Phoenix Club,” she whispered.

“Try not to look at it in awe.” Cassandra opened the gate and started down the stairs.

Fiona followed, pulling the gate closed behind her. At the bottom of the stairs, there was an area for coal storage as well as other items, but Fiona didn’t pay close attention.

“Ready?” Cassandra asked, her hand on the door.

“Yes,” Fiona breathed.

Then they were inside the rather dim interior of a corridor. Their plan was to find cleaning implements and make their way upstairs. Fiona had managed that part of the scheme. They’d polish furniture or clean floors. In truth, they’d do neither, but that’s what they would pretend if they encountered anyone, which, of course, they would.

Immediately, as it happened.

As they made their way along the corridor, another maid—dressed in a gray gown and dark green apron, just as Prudence had said—walked past them without a word or eye contact.

“Excellent,” Cassandra murmured.

Fiona glanced about, eager to find their props. She poked her head into one doorway, only to jerk it back out again after seeing two maids in conversation. “Not in there,” she whispered.

Moving on, she tried another door, this one closed.

“Careful,” Cassandra urged.

She was being careful. Fiona gently opened the door and peered inside. It was a pantry of some kind with…cleaning supplies! “Success!”

Removing a bucket and some rags, she turned and handed the former to Cassandra. “We should fill this before we go upstairs. Otherwise, we won’t be convincing at all.”

“Where do we do that?”

“There might be a pump in the kitchen?” Fiona wasn’t familiar with houses like these.

Cassandra shrugged. “I’m not allowed on the lower level of the house. But at Woodbreak—that’s my father’s country estate—it’s in the kitchen.”

Creeping cautiously along the corridor, they found the kitchen and the pump. Fiona traded the rags for the bucket and filled it. Then, finally, they went in search of the stairs.

A few minutes later, they emerged on the ground floor, stepping out of the servants’ stairway into a sitting room in the back corner with windows facing Duke Street and the back garden.

Decorated in delicate gold and ivory, the space felt warm and welcoming. It also, somehow, seemed to shimmer. Fiona strolled around the perimeter. “It’s such a pretty room.”

“Whoever designed this is brilliant,” Cassandra said, running her fingertips along the back of a brocade settee. “I feel right at home here.”

“How wonderful that women have such a splendid place to gather.” They’d discussed whether they might run into any of the members today. If so, they’d just keep their heads down and hurry away from them. Fiona doubted anyone would recognize her, but they might Cassandra.

“What are you girls doing in here?” The high-pitched demand came from behind them.

Fiona let out a soft squeak as she whirled around. Tossing a glance toward Cassandra, Fiona was impressed to see that she didn’t look as if she’d been caught somewhere she oughtn’t be. But perhaps her heart was thudding as wildly as Fiona’s.

The middle-aged woman, whose costume varied from the other maids in that her apron was white with an embroidered phoenix on the chest, narrowed her eyes at them. She stood in the wide doorway that led toward the front of the house. “I don’t recognize either one of you.”

Fiona froze. This was it. They’d been found out. The woman—the housekeeper?—would alert Lord Lucien, and perhaps even Lord Overton. Would he send Fiona back to Shropshire?

“We’re new,” Cassandra said evenly. If she was even half as terrified as Fiona, she didn’t show it in the slightest.

She looked as if she might believe Cassandra. “Lord Lucien hired you?”

Cassandra nodded. “Yes.”

The woman exhaled and shook her head. “Wouldn’t be the first time he