Done being made fools of. Done acting the biddable and dutiful creatures to the very men who made a mockery of them. Done allowing men to get away with their actions.
The time for accountability had arrived.
Phaedra gripped the cane in her hand when she spotted her parents in the crowd. Her father’s face was devoid of any expression, but her mother wore a look of shock. Of all the things Phaedra had done in her life, this was the most extreme. Because it was public. She could not escape the consequences. Consequences Phaedra, and the other heiresses, were fully prepared to face.
This was the only uncomfortable part of their entire plan. They not only went up against the men of society and their flaws, but they revolted against their parents as well. But Phaedra hoped that the women at the ball would join their outrage and rebel against the atrocious behavior of the men behind the wagers.
It was their hope to start a movement.
Theton, however, had always been terribly fickle. One never knew if the wind would blow east or west and whether it would be warm or freezing. They figured they had about a fifty percent chance of the ladies joining their cause for accountability.
The men of White’s wanted to arrogantly note down horrid wagers; well, let the rest of the world see, then. They imagined themselves entertaining and clever; let others be the judge of that. They thought to mock the women; well, let them be the subject of ridicule for once.
Yet no amount of imagination could have prepared them for the riot that would soon follow.
Phaedra’s gaze was pulled in by a dark set of eyes.
Deerhurst.
Her heart sped up, but she averted her gaze. That one look had been all it took for her to glimpse the lines of horror wrinkled at the corners of his eyes. She’d also caught a glimpse of Saville, Avondale, and Warrick, who appeared just as appalled.
Good.
Let them be shocked right out of their polished black boots. They hadn’t foreseen this, perhaps not even in their wildest dreams. Well, Phaedra thought with a satisfied smirk, it was about to get wilder. Their copies weren’t just being distributed here but to every home in London, the theatres, Almack’s, and even Vauxhall gardens. By tomorrow, the streets of London would be littered with them.
By the end of the week, Phaedra had no doubt word would have spread throughout Britain, making every member of White’s either a laughingstock or the subject of some womanly ire.
Below them, curious people snatched up copies of the paper and were studying them with interest. Nash was the first to pull her aside. Phaedra wouldn’t have much time before her parents dragged her from the ball.
“This was your grand plan?” Nash asked with a frown. “When Ophelia stole the betting book from White’s, we never expected this would be the outcome.”
“What did you expect?” Phaedra countered.
“Well for one, not for you to publicly announce that you all are in possession of stolen property.”
Oh, that.
“No one can prove anything.”
“You also didn’t have to show your faces. Lord, Phaedra, could you not have paid actors to do this?”
“No, because we aren’t that cowardly, Nash. We don’t hide in clubs with betting books. We are better than that.” She poked his chest. “And you, did you know about the list? About Deerhurst?”
His face flushed, and no more needed to be said. “It wasn’t for me to reveal this truth.”
Phaedra averted her gaze.
He lowered his voice. “I didn’t know about the list the last time we spoke. And I only recently discovered who was behind it. If I had known about Deerhurst, I would have told you, but Phaedra, Cromby is responsible for the list hitting the book.”
She shuddered at that name. “I know.”
“What about Deerhurst? He’s been courting you.”
“Not anymore.”
He instantly seemed to understand. “You’re not willing to forgive him?”
She snorted, stomping her cane into the ground. “He lied to me.” She suddenly had a need to confess, and softly admitted. “We’ve kissed.”
