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“Your mother was a whore, and weallknow it. A whore and an adulteress.”
“She broke no vows! Mama never married.”
“Ooh, such an angel. She knowingly took money from a man who did break vows.”
“That’s—that’s what a courtesanis. If you think spending your life looking for and pleasing a string of arrogant, entitled ‘protectors’ isn’t every bit as much work and strife and effort as any other job in Christendom—”
“If you think the beau monde hasjobs,” Lady Regina spat, “then you are as feather-witted as you are out of place. You willnothave the Earl of Eagleton as a protector. He is mine, and I shall not share him with a mistress.”
“If you must physically stop a man from looking around—”
“Oh, he can look all he pleases. Do you believe yourself to be competition? I will be the one wearing his ring and bearing his title. You are so far beneath me that this conversation is as useful as trying to explain to an ant its place in the world before you take your boot and squash it.”
Bianca swallowed. “You think me no more than an insect?”
“I think you less than an insect. If I could stomp you out with my boot, I would not hesitate to do so. Run back to your sad cluster of wilted wallflowers if you must. And when you leave, never cross my path again. If I ever have the misfortune of seeing your ugly face—”
“That is quite enough,” interjected a quiet, female voice.
Lady Regina whirled around. “Oh God, it’s the help.”
It was Miss Fenella St. Trevelyon, whom Bianca had met briefly in the receiving line. “Together with my aunt and uncle, I am the hostess of this party.”
Lady Regina snorted. “It’s not your party. You are the housekeeper. Your aunt and uncle were kind enough to allow you to join them. And I was done with this conversation anyway. I see my rakish, handsome, private ‘footman’ has managed to procure me something better than this swill you’re forcing on the rest of your guests.”
She sashayed off without waiting for a response.
Off toward Harry, who had indeed appeared on the opposite side of the ballroom with two flutes of champagne, bearing a confused expression at his missing companion.
With fumbling hands, Bianca set her plate of cakes back onto the refreshment table and let out a long, shaky breath.
“I’m sorry about Lady Regina,” Miss St. Trevelyon said softly.
Bianca rubbed her face with trembling fingers. “She hates me.”
“She hates everyone.”
“She said I don’t belong here.”
There could be no contradiction to this statement. Lady Regina was right. Biancawasthe illegitimate offspring of a married lord’s mistress. She did have brown skin and black-and-white hair and no sponsor to champion her among the dragons of the ton.
Miss St. Trevelyon gave a commiserating smile. “She tells me that I don’t belong, either. Yet here we are. Right in the thick of it. Did I not see you arrive with an entourage of no less than seven cohorts?”
Bianca nodded.
“Then you have found where you belong. With your friends, wherever they are. And frankly, in the arms of any gentleman whom you deign to dance with.”
“None of them want to dance with me. Lady Regina said—she thinks—that I am here to find a protector!”
“Never mind what she thinks. Is there a special man whom you wish to ask you to dance?”
Bianca felt her face go hot.
“Then I understand the urge to eat cakes.”
“And drink supposedly inferior champagne?” Bianca said wryly. “She sent Eagleton to fetch her better wine from the Savoy Club.”
Miss St. Trevelyon looked delighted. “She knows nothing of champagne; the best is already being served, though Lord Peregrine did kindly order more. He admitted his was inferior to ours. The best can be found either here at the refreshment tables, or in the library where my uncle is playing cards with his cronies. Whatever Eagleton brought for Lady Regina, I can promise you came from the worst bottle in the entire house.”
