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“I quite see your point, Lady Alcon,” Bea said, planting her feet and staying precisely where she was, shadowed by the fern. Regina was turned away, which was a blessing, but if Martha glanced in this direction …

Martha was almost as unpleasant as her closest friend.

“My maid reported that you ate a large meal in the afternoon. Enough for two, and certainly not what any lady should partake in when she needs to look her very best.”

Query: What is the likelihood that Lady Regina ate a meal before coming to the ball?

Prediction: Zero. Absolutely none.

Lady Regina was as lean and hungry as a whippet. Not a greyhound, because they were nervous but gracious. Whippets liked to bark.

“Although we both know the outcome of this Season,” Lady Alcon said, “I shall still do my duty and introduce you to more gentlemen. If you would stop hanging back like a sinner at the altar rail!”

Query: What were the odds of Bea finding a husband during the Season?

Prediction: Again, zero.

This evening, for example, approximately forty young ladies were contending for twelve eligible gentlemen, although she might have overlooked an elderly widower or two, and she should add in the lame duke.

Even had she been as beautiful as Lady Regina, the odds were nil.

Fat ladies from the country weren’t in fashion.

CHAPTER TWO

When a person is discovered in a corner—hiding behind a fern, no less—that person should be left in peace.

At least, that’s what Miss Beatrice Valentine thought, although clearly her chaperone, Lady Alcon, did not agree. “I can’t think what you’re doing here. I mean to introduce you to the Duke of Lennox, who just entered the ballroom.”

“I’d rather remain in this corner,” Bea said. Then, hoping for a reprieve, she appealed to Lady Alcon’s encyclopedic knowledge of society. “Why would the daughter of a duke marry a mere lord?”

“To whom are you referring?” Lady Alcon asked, with an aggressive emphasis on grammar.

“Lady Regina and Lord Peregrine,” Bea said. “He is not a member of the nobility, and obviously not an arbiter of society, as he doesn’t care for his appearance, does he? So why did Lady Regina’s brother accept his proposal?”

“Lord Peregrine is at the very top of society,” the lady said acidly. “His dress is always comme il faut. His tailoring is exquisite, and the better for not being vulgarly colorful, like some fools.”

“I see,” Bea said, taken aback.

“What’s more, his fortune is said to approach that of the Golden Ball,” Lady Alcon added.

No wonder Regina didn’t care about her fiancé’s slightly contemptuous air.

“His fiancée has an excellent dowry,” Lady Alcon continued. “She behaves just as a lady should. They are an excellent match. Her clothing, schooling, and manners are a credit to her parents, and were naturally rewarded by a match that equals hers in every way.”

“Yes, I see,” Bea murmured.

“You, on the other hand, are wasting your father’s money,” the lady said. “You are also wasting my time, but I am reconciled to that. You owe it to your father to try not to eat him out of house and home!”

“We could go into the far room,” Bea suggested. “And please, Lady Alcon, could you keep your voice down?”

“I promised your father that I would introduce you to every eligible man in London, and that is just what I shall do. I do not shirk my duty, no matter how unpleasant. Come along!”

To Bea’s utter horror, her chaperone jerked her from behind the fern and headed directly toward Regina and her friends—or more to the point, toward the Duke of Lennox. Bea’s heart began beating fast in the base of her throat.

Bea couldn’t break free and run, because Regina had seen them, and she was watching, eyebrow raised.

Earlier Query as to Bea’s Weight as Subject of Conversation?