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Clearly Devin had already heard about Regina’s broken betrothal. “Has your sister returned home?”

Jonah nodded. “I suppose I should talk to Lord Peregrine.”

“I’d let it die. It wasn’t the most gentlemanly behavior, but no one likes to see their ring thrown into a glass of lemonade.”

“What did he do?”

“Declared within hearing of Lady Martha Telton-Sacks that if his father hadn’t demanded he marry a noblewoman, he’d be courting Beatrice Valentine—whom I gather your sister acutely dislikes, or that’s what Lady Martha reported, tittering all the time. I had the distinct impression that if Martha hadn’t been both betrothed and your sister’s dear friend, she would view the broken engagement as an opportunity to annex the Peregrine fortune.”

Jonah held back a groan.

“I have promised one dance before we leave,” Devin said.

Jonah grunted, not really listening. He caught sight of Beatrice again, laughing up at Argyle. Her luscious mouth was over-sized, he’d decided. Too big for her face.

“You can just prop up the wall, where you’ve been most of the evening,” Devin was saying. “I’ll find Miss Valentine when this—”

Jonah’s hand shot out and caught his friend’s arm. “You are not dancing with her.”

Devin’s brows drew together. “I signed her card for the second dance after supper, which is next, and so yes, I am.”

That was unacceptable. “No.” Jonah heard the growl in his voice.

“Christ Almighty,” Devin said. “Just because of what Peregrine said? Your sister has already left. Even if she hadn’t, Regina cannot insist that your friends ignore Miss Valentine.”

“It isn’t that.” Jonah didn’t say anything else because … what could he say? He didn’t mean to take a wife. He had to get his estate back on solid ground before he even thought of such a thing. Matters had improved in the two years since his father’s death, but the income was hardly where it needed to be to properly support a wife and family.

Yet Devin was dissolute and wild. A rake. Jonah would knock him out before he allowed him to dance with Beatrice.

“I may be losing my mind,” he allowed. “I’d like to leave, if you please.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“There’s nothing to drink,” Jonah pointed out. “This is Almack’s, in case you forgot.”

“You might have been carrying a flask.”

Jonah shook his head. He was sober.

Sober as a judge and yet mad as a hatter.

Devin muttered curses under his breath as they left the assembly hall. “Give Miss Valentine my apologies,” he said to Mr. Paine.

The Master of Ceremonies bowed.

In the carriage, Devin squared his shoulders. “You and I have been friends for decades. But you don’t want me to be anywhere near your sister. Now you won’t even let me dance with Miss Valentine, a woman who’s no relation to you, as far as I know.”

Jonah ground his teeth. “You’re my closest friend.” A wry smile curled his lips. “I don’t suppose you’d care to marry Regina? She’s free.”

“Damn you, no,” Devin said, without heat. “I don’t want to marry either of them. I don’t want you treating me like a pariah, either.”

“I apologize. Dance with whomever you wish.”

“I’m in no mood for chaste ladies,” Devin said with a wolfish grin. “Remember I was telling you about the current show at the Pantheon? Russian opera dancers dressed like daisies missing petals? Time to make a daisy chain.”

He settled back happily, but Jonah was grumpily aware that he had no interest in plucking petals from a Russian dancer.

Damn it. He really had lost his mind.