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Daisy forced herself to smile as she curtsied in return.

Regina bared all her teeth while greeting Lord Devin, which was interesting. She had lost her fiancé last Season after making a play for Frederick’s brother, throwing herself into Major FitzRoy’s arms and kissing him, and thereafter claiming to be betrothed. Unfortunately for her, the major promptly married Livie, propriety be damned.

Lord Devin was more gentlemanly: if Regina threw herself at him, he would be trapped. Never mind the rumors about his rakehellish youth; these days his lordship was every inch an honorable gentleman. Except when he was attending Rothingale’s parties, of course.

“You were discussing Miss Wharton’s skirts when I joined you, were you not?” Regina asked.

“Actually, we were engaged in biblical exegesis,” Frederick drawled.

Regina ignored him. “Miss Wharton and I are wearing the same fashion.” Her hand fluttered next to her narrow waist, drawing everyone’s attention to the panels of shell-pink silk floating over her rose underskirt. When she danced, the cloth would drift in the breeze, giving a glimpse of her slender thighs. Her skirts were short enough that anyone could see her ankles without waiting for her hem to lift.

If Frederick and Lord Devin were supposed to bubble over with compliments, Regina had chosen the wrong audience. They both looked bored.

“Your gown is lovely,” Daisy said, because her mother had brought her up with manners.

“Yours is … interesting,” Regina replied, because apparently her mother hadn’t bothered. “A panel gown is better fashioned in silk. Satin is so heavy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Lady Wharton was most anxious that my figure not be overly exposed.” It was a triumph not to glance at Regina’s bony legs, outlined in her light gown. That would be unkind.

“I understand,” Regina said.

Daisy blinked at her, surprised by the unexpected sympathy in her tone. Regina sounded genuinely warm.

She flipped open her fan and whispered. “It must be so challenging to disguise your extra bulk. I have defects that I must hide as well. My dressmaker told me that my knees are a liability. A liability!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Daisy managed.

Regina dropped her fan and fluttered her eyelashes. “Lord Devin, I was so pleased to see that you have torn yourself away from all that terribly important work you do in the House of Lords.”

His lordship seemed to have woken up to the idea that Regina was viewing him as a possible husband; his expression held precisely the same distaste as when Daisy labeled him her suitor. He really was a swine.

In fact, he deserved Regina.

“Lord Devin is an old friend,” Daisy said.

Regina blinked rapidly. “Ah.”

“We, that is, his old friends such as Lord FitzRoy-Paget and me—” she elbowed Frederick, who was leaning against the wall staring into space “—are most anxious that his lordship find a wife worthy of his exalted position.”

Lord Devin’s eyes darkened. He didn’t precisely glare at her, but it was something close.

Regina preened and gave Daisy a genuine smile. “I can understand your concern. These days aristocratic blood is being regularly diluted by unions with those from the mercantile classes.”

Daisy gave Lord Devin a sunny smile. “I believe the conductor just announced a waltz. Perhaps you might lead Lady Regina into the dance, if she has not already promised it to another gentleman.”

“As it happens, I have not,” Regina said, curling her gloved hand around her fan so that none of the signatures were legible.

“I promised to escort you onto the dancefloor, Miss Wharton,” Lord Devin said untruthfully. “It seems you have forgotten, but as a gentleman, I could not take another lady before you.”

“Alas, I am not yet approved to waltz,” Daisy said.

The spark in his eye told her that he remembered perfectly well the waltz they shared at the Rothingale masquerade—at least until he dragged her off the dancefloor.

“No proper debutante would waltz before one of the patronesses of Almack’s approves her for that privilege,” Lady Regina said importantly. “I’m afraid that the lapse in Miss Wharton’s membership in Almack’s might—through no fault of her own—make them hesitant to extend that honor. Such a pity.”

Daisy let her eyes mock Lord Devin because … why not? “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. Such a pity, as Lady Regina says.”

His eyes smoldered at her, for all the world like a stage villain. Oh dear, his lordship was annoyed. Daisy kept her expression clear and her eyes innocent.