she walked out of the room. He leaned over to one of the croupiers. ‘I’ll be right back.’
He caught up to her in the hallway. They were alone. ‘Phillipa.’
She turned and held her head high.
‘Are you leaving?’ He would not allow her to walk home alone.
She did not answer right away. ‘I am going to the supper room.’
He took her arm. ‘I will come with you.’
When they entered the room, she strode directly to the buffet and made her own selections.
He asked one of the servants to bring wine to his table, selecting one far enough away that the other diners could not hear their conversation. The wine arrived before she left the buffet.
She turned and paused as if trying to decide whether to join him or not. Tossing her head, she carried her plate to his table and sat down in silence.
He leaned towards her. ‘What possessed you to return here, Phillipa? I told you not to.’
She sipped her wine. ‘You told me I’d had enough excitement, as if you could know.’
‘This is not a fit place for you.’ How could he convince her? ‘Not all who come here are gentlemen and ladies.’
‘Enough, Xavier.’ She glared at him. ‘I will not be treated as if I am still seven years old. My half-brother made this a place ladies could gamble and so I shall gamble here. You cannot and will not stop me.’
She was right. He could not stop her. But he did have an obligation to her. He’d always had an obligation to her. ‘Do you intend to come again?’
‘Of course.’ She smiled smugly. ‘As often as I wish.’
‘Name the nights you will come and the times. I will escort you to and from the place.’ He could at least see she was safe on the streets.
‘No!’ she snapped.
‘Why?’ This was more foolishness. ‘It is to keep you safe.’
She held his gaze with an obstinate look. Finally she said, ‘Very well, but only if you agree not to tell Rhysdale.’
He’d never had any intention to tell Rhys. ‘Very well.’
Their conversation became more companionable after that. She asked about some of the patrons and he told her frankly which men were gentlemen and which were not. She asked questions about the running of the Masquerade Club, about the collection of the money, especially for the card games. She asked about profits and the potential for losses.
She had a quick mind, grasping the workings of the place as quickly as did her brother Hugh.
* * *
After half an hour, she rose to leave. As they walked towards the door and passed the pianoforte, Phillipa ran her fingers over the keyboard. ‘It seems a shame that no one ever plays. This is a pretty instrument.’
‘It has a nice sound, as I recall.’ Under Madame Bisou, the previous owner, music and raucous singing had filled the room for part of the night.
Phillipa looked at him with a careful expression. ‘I will play for you, if you will allow me to.’
He cocked his head, thinking. It would keep her out of the gaming room, at least.
He gestured to the piano bench. ‘Give it a try, Phillipa. Play whatever you like.’
She smiled. ‘Not tonight. Tomorrow night.’
* * *
The next night Xavier met Phillipa outside her town house at the agreed upon hour. He walked with her through Mayfair, crossing Piccadilly to St James’s Street and finally to the gaming hell. She headed straight to the supper room and the pianoforte.
He stayed to listen to her. If she was dreadful, he could stop her. Amateurs were often dreadful. Enough wrong notes, enough singing off-key and people would find another house in which to gamble. That would not happen under his watch.
Her first song he’d heard before—‘I Have A Silent Sorrow Here’, a song of unrequited love. The strings of the pianoforte and her voice resonated with emotion. She sang the song so beautifully it convinced him she had once loved a man who did not love her.
Who the devil was that man? That man who hurt her so? Was that what caused her to isolate herself? Had he made her bitter and unhappy?
The second song had a similar theme, although he’d never heard the tune before. Even more melancholic than the first, she sang of watching her beloved across a room and of being invisible to him.
He forgot about anything but the pain and sadness of her song, the emotion in her voice. He’d failed at his youthful vow to protect her. He’d not been there when this man wounded her. He clenched a fist. He’d like to find that fellow now.
She next played something light-hearted and he woke from his reverie. He glanced at the faces in the supper room. The people seated there abandoned their conversations. With rapt expressions, they all turned toward Phillipa.
The only way Phillipa would be a liability to the gaming house was if patrons abandoned the gaming tables to come hear her perform.
Xavier yearned to abandon his duties to stay to listen to her, but he’d already spent enough time away from the gaming room. He reluctantly left the supper room. In the gaming room the sounds were not melodic. Voices humming, dice rolling, cards shuffling. Although the sound of her voice and of the pianoforte sometimes broke through the din.
* * *
She did not stay long that evening, only a little more than two hours. As she promised to do, she sent word to him when she wished to go home. To escort her home would take little more than a half-hour. For that amount of time he could leave the club in the hands of Rhys’s employees.
They stepped out into the cool night air.
Her spirits were so high, she seemed irrepressible. It reminded him of that long-ago ball.
‘You enjoyed yourself tonight?’ he guessed.
She almost danced down the pavement. ‘I did. No one seemed disappointed in my playing.’
‘You did very well.’
She did more than very well.
‘Did I?’ She skipped ahead of him and faced him while walking backwards. ‘Do you truly think so?’
She pulled off her mask and the gas lamps illuminated her face, making it glow. Her happiness made her beautiful.
His heart swelled for her. ‘I know little of music, but I enjoyed what I heard.’
She grinned and twirled around. ‘That is all I wish!’
She chattered on about the songs she’d sung and played, reviewing her
