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“I’m leaving this room,” Bea said. She looked to her left. Petunia was chewing her lip; Bea had the feeling that Regina had just surprised her. Without pausing, she dove between Prudence and Petunia.

“It’s because you’re a slut,” Regina said, whipping about and jumping in front of the door, the only way out of the room. “You’re nothing more than a great whore, and we all know it. That’s why Peregrine said what he said about you.”

“You’re mad,” Bea said. “You’re as cracked as an old jug.” She looked at the other three. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, following her. Listening to her.”

She edged forward, but there was no way to move past Regina, who was standing before the door, next to a small table holding a pitcher and basin of water, so that ladies could wash their hands after using the chamber pot.

Regina snorted. “Don’t you realize that the arbiters of society have responsibility? Martha’s mother doesn’t allow bad blood through the doors of Almack’s. She takes her duties very seriously. Why, sometimes the meetings determining who may have a voucher last for hours.”

“I already have a voucher,” Bea said woodenly. Her cheek was throbbing as if she had a toothache.

“A decision made before you tried to steal Regina’s fiancé,” Martha said, sounding very reasonable. “No brassy whores allowed.”

“I am not a whore,” Bea said. “I am not.” This was ridiculous. Asserting that she wasn’t a whore was like maintaining that she wasn’t a bluebird.

Regina snorted. “With the way you walk? With that chest—and that bodice? You have all your wares on view, for sale!”

Bea didn’t look down. Her breasts were the kind that people thought of when they talked about “heaving bosoms.” Just now her breaths were shuddering, and that meant her breasts were trembling too.

“Everyone knows,” Regina taunted.

“Knows what?”

“That you’re hungry for it.” Her voice dropped. “You might as well just admit it.”

“You are mad,” Bea repeated.

“I’ll bet you dampen your petticoats,” Regina continued, curling her lips again. “My chaperone told me that it’s a common practice among women who are hungry for a man between their legs.”

“Ew,” Bea said. “You’re mad, and your mind is as filthy as a sink. Get out of the way, Lady Regina. If you don’t let me out, I am going to scream. Everyone will hear.”

“Oh?” Regina laughed with what sounded like genuine amusement. “What will you say when someone bursts through the door?”

“I’ll say that I encountered an insect,” Bea said. “A creature that belongs under a rock!”

Regina’s laughter cut off, and a streak of red showed up high in each cheek. “You dare,” she hissed. “I am the daughter of a duke, and you are a nothing.”

“I’d rather be a nobody than one of you.” Bea had crossed some sort of threshold from which there was no going back. “I’m proud not to be you,” she said steadily. She glanced at the other girls. “I’m proud that I’m not your friend, that I have never, in my life, been as cruel and petty as the four of you are. I never will be,” she added fiercely.

“That’s a mean thing to say,” Petunia said, an astonished look on her face. “That’s not nice.”

Her twin elbowed her in the ribs. “Shut up.”

Regina cast Petunia a scathing glance. “You’re going to listen to a woman like that?” She turned to the table holding the pitcher of water.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Bea cried.

“Why don’t we just make sure that everyone knows what a slut you are? They already know that you duck into retiring rooms to dampen your petticoats.”

Bea gasped. “I hide to get away from you.”

“Poppycock.” Regina dipped one hand in the jug and dashed water at Bea’s skirt.

“You’re out of your mind,” Bea gasped.

They all looked down. Water clearly marked the pink overskirt.

“Oh my,” Regina mocked. “People are going to think that you spilled your slop.”