Invitation by Burke, Darcy (book club reads txt) 📗

friends.” Tobias thought in particular about the day before, after the news of Lady Priscilla’s betrothal had circulated. He’d come here and found a haven and solace.

“I feel the same, which has got me thinking. Perhaps it’s time for a new place to gather.”

“You have somewhere in mind?”

“I do, but it doesn’t exist yet. I’m considering founding a club, one that is different from what we see along St. James. It wouldn’t be just for men, to begin with.”

Tobias sat up in his chair a bit and fixed his gaze on Lucien. “That is more than different. That’s revolutionary.” He wondered how it would work. Would women even join? Would men join knowing that women might be there? “What else?”

“This club will be incredibly exclusive.” Lucien’s eyes narrowed with purpose and perhaps a touch of dark mischief. “If people think White’s is hard to access, they will be particularly frustrated by the entrance requirements for the Phoenix Club.”

“The Phoenix Club?”

Lucien’s lips spread in a sly grin. “A place to begin anew.”

That sounded positively wonderful to Tobias, particularly in this moment. “This all sounds too good to be true. How will you manage it?”

“I’ve a location in mind, but it will take time to bring the physical location to fruition. In the meantime, I’m assembling our membership committee. As I said, it will be a most exclusive club.”

Tobias let out a husky laugh. “How I would love to be on that committee.”

“As it happens, I would be delighted if you would do so.”

Having just sipped his whisky, Tobias nearly choked. After swallowing and coughing to clear his windpipe, he managed to say, “Hell, yes.” He coughed again. “Who else are you asking?”

“I haven’t entirely decided, but I do know there will be two secret members, and the identity of all members will be withheld from the public.”

“I’ll know the other members except for two?”

Lucien nodded. “Please don’t ask me for their identity or why they will remain secret. Just know that the success of the club relies upon their participation and their anonymity.”

“You sound as if you’ve plotted this quite thoroughly.”

Lucien lifted his glass in a silent acknowledgment and took a drink.

“I look forward to hearing more when you are ready to share. Just tell me what I need to do.”

“For now, recover from your broken heart.” Lucien smirked, and Tobias rolled his eyes even as he felt a slight pang in his chest.

He wasn’t angry or even disappointed in Lady Priscilla, but in himself. How he’d misjudged her feelings for him—rather, her absence of feelings for him—was what disappointed and angered him. The idea of the phoenix rose in his mind, making him eager to learn from this experience and emerge changed.

Love—and marriage—would be the furthest things from his mind. Which would infuriate his father. Tobias didn’t care. The earl couldn’t demand he wed.

Raising his glass, Tobias offered a toast. “To the Phoenix Club!”

Lucien inclined his head before lifting his whisky toward his lips. “To rebirth and a place we can call home.”

Chapter 5

Mirabelle stared at the list she’d made of potential employment opportunities she could pursue. None of them were terribly exciting, but all of them were preferable to what she’d done the past four years. And she’d been luckier than most, starting her profession at a brothel that served the wealthy and well-positioned. From there, she’d transitioned almost immediately into becoming a courtesan, which had led her to a series of wealthy—and mostly kind—protectors, culminating in the best of them, Lord Lucien Westbrook.

Some would say she was foolish for terminating their arrangement and for refusing his assistance. Perhaps she was. She could not, however, continue the way that she was. In her future, she saw an endless stream of protectors, and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to arrange her life around a man. She wanted freedom.

She did not, however, want poverty, and while she’d saved some funds, she would have to either live very frugally or find a way to provide for herself. Glancing down at the list once more, she tried to find even a breath of excitement for any of the things she’d written down.

“Miss Renault?” her housekeeper asked from the doorway of her sitting room. “Lord Lucien is here to see you. He said he’s come to arrange your settlement.”

Mirabelle wasn’t sure what he meant by that. She’d been quite clear about not wanting him to take care of her. Frowning, she pushed her chair back from the desk and stood. “Show him in.”

As she moved toward the small seating area in the center of the room, she smoothed her hand over the simple coral-colored gown she wore. She’d already decided to sell her more extravagant clothes and accessories since she’d no longer be attending Cyprian balls. The thought of parting with her finery made her throat clench. It was silly, but she loved her fashionable belongings, probably because in her youth, she’d had nothing of the kind. Instead, she’d seen her mother’s maid making expensive gowns for other people. Was it wrong that Mirabelle wanted to look like she mattered?

As if clothes indicated one’s import. Except in her experience, they absolutely did, along with education, upbringing, and, of course, one’s origin and family. As a destitute French émigré and orphan, she was no one of consequence.

Lucien prowled into the sitting room, and immediately, the air shifted, as it always did. He was a force of masculine energy that commanded every space he entered, both due to his size and the sheer magnetism he exuded. Everyone who knew him liked him, and if they didn’t know him, they wanted to. Actually, that wasn’t true. There were some people who didn’t care for him—he would list his father among them. Mirabelle categorized them all as idiots. And completely riddled with envy. That could be the only reason not to adore Lucien.

He bowed to her. “Good evening, Belle.”

She stood in front of her chair, her hands clasped. “I don’t know why you’ve come. I