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Right.

Because then Miss Leodoldina Cottons would have been shoved in his face, and perhaps Lady Alcon would have scored a duke for one of her charges. That would have made her the most highly prized chaperone in all London.

Bea winced at the thought of what this Season was going to do for her chaperone’s reputation. She didn’t care for Lady Alcon, but she felt sorry for her. It wasn’t easy for a lady to support herself in the manner to which she had been accustomed when her husband was alive.

Bea’s father was paying not just for the privilege of Lady Alcon’s introductions; he had also bought her a new wardrobe from modistes of her choice, as part of the contract they signed.

Just now the Duke of Lennox was standing with his back to them. Bea steered her chaperone to the far end of the room, happy to find a large statue of a Roman lady in a toga that could offer shelter if need be.

A small voice reminded her that she had vowed not to hide, but those words quickly melted away. Regina was here. Likely, her best friend, Lady Martha Telton-Sacks was here as well.

“Oh! I see Mrs. de Lacy Evans,” Lady Alcon exclaimed. “Come along, Beatrice. She’s so kind. I can prevail upon her to make her son escort you onto the floor. I wonder why the Master of Ceremonies hasn’t begun the dancing yet.”

Query: Would Bea provide entertainment to the gentlemen and ladies on the balcony?

Probability: 100%.

Mr. de Lacy Evans was precisely the beansprout who previously modeled the longitude to her latitude. Someday he would be a baron, and his mother was quite powerful in society, but he was still a beanpole.

Lady Alcon towed her through clusters of people to Mrs. de Lacy Evans’ side, where the ladies exchanged condolences about the fog’s unpleasant effects on one’s joints.

After a while, Lady Alcon remembered that Bea was standing to the side, having edged about so that she was hidden from most of the room. “Come forward,” she snapped, yanking Bea’s arm.

Mrs. de Lacy Evans was not an unkind woman. She wasn’t as thin as Lady Alcon, and she had sympathetic eyes. Of course, she’d gained her weight having five children, which was respectable.

Bea dropped a curtsy. “Good evening, Mrs. de Lacy Evans.”

“Good evening, dear,” she said. “Robert is looking forward to dancing with you, of course, and he has a friend with him tonight as well. So that’s two dances.”

She didn’t pretend that Bea would be asked by anyone else, which was rather refreshing. From the moment Regina had spied her—well, spied Bea’s hips, bottom, bosom, and all the other body parts that Regina found repulsive—she’d managed to make Bea an invisible pariah. Young men didn’t even seem to see her, and try as she might, Lady Alcon couldn’t force them to ask her for a dance.

Bea summoned up a smile. “That’s very kind of you.”

“I think my son is developing an infatuation with you, my dear,” the lady said, unexpectedly. “He asked me this morning if you would be here, or at that play everyone is attending.”

“I had tickets to the opening night of The Wedding Dress,” Lady Alcon said importantly. “I handed them off to a nephew.” She lowered her voice. “I haven’t had time to tell you, Mrs. de Lacy Evans, but thanks to the kindness of Lady Regina, Bea danced with the Duke of Lennox last night at Lady Sheffield’s ball.”

“The kindness of Lady Regina?” the lady repeated, a dubious look on her face.

Apparently, she was more perceptive than Lady Alcon. Bea’s chaperone wasn’t precisely unobservant; she simply held the aristocracy in such reverence that she couldn’t imagine Regina being … well … Lady Regina.

“Oh, there you are!” Mrs. de Lacy Evans exclaimed, before Lady Alcon had time to assure her that Lady Regina was as kind as kind could be. “Robert, here is Miss Valentine.”

Bea curtsied before Mrs. de Lacy Evans’s tall son. Someday he would have shoulders to match his legs … perhaps. At the moment he was made even taller by a mop of curls. But he had his mother’s eyes and a nice cleft in his chin.

Rather to her surprise, he scrawled his name in two places on her dance card. She whispered, “You needn’t do that!”

“Do what?” he asked, handing back her card.

She used the little pencil hanging from a ribbon to cross off one. “You needn’t dance with me more than once, Mr. de Lacy Evans. I think it’s very kind of you to obey your mother as it is.”

His brows drew together. “You’re an odd girl, Miss Valentine.”

“I’m trying to be honest,” she said indignantly.

“If I’m honest, I am looking forward to dancing with you more than with any other lady here.” He leaned forward, and those sweet eyes had a different expression in them, one that startled Bea. “In fact, I’d dance with you three times, if I was allowed.”

Before Bea could answer, another man stepped forward. “Mrs. de Lacy Evans, wouldn’t you introduce me to Miss Valentine?”