Tamsin sniffed. “It’s ours. We’re the ones they are betting on.”
Clara tilted her head, her pale hair glowing in the lamplight. “I suppose that’s true.”
“It’s entirely true,” Meg said, dividing the coins into four small piles. “And so, to the victors go the spoils.”
Tamsin rubbed her hands together. “I hope he knows it was us.”
“Who?” Clara asked.
“Eaton.”
“How was he even invited?” Priya said indignantly.
“Pendleton must not know what he’s like.”
“That, at the very least, I can rectify.” Her left eye narrowed, the way it always did when she was thinking. Or plotting. “There must be something I can use against him. There’s no conceivable way he’s smart enough to hide all of his misdeeds.”
“Not from you, anyway,” Tamsin agreed. “I think the real problem is he barely bothers to hide them at all. Last time he tried to grope me, we were waltzing and surrounded by nearly a hundred other dancers. So, either no one believes it of him, or they are too used to it to be bothered.”
“You might be right.”
“Uh oh.”
“What?”
Meg nudged her. “I know that look.” Priya smiled innocently. Meg shook her head. “That innocent expression makes you look dyspeptic.”
“Well, never mind, innocence never got me anywhere anyway.”
“You’ll shock the Mamas.”
“Good.”
“This only proves that we need to be careful with our reputations,” Clara put in. “And our chaperones.”
“Rubbish,” Priya disagreed. “What it proves it that men need to be held to a higher standard of behavior than they have been.” She smiled again, this time grimly. “And that our vengeance be swift and bloody.”
“I don’t see what we can do about it,” Clara said. “Though clearly, Eaton is not marriageable. I shall strike him off the list.”
“You have a list?” Tamsin asked, curiously. “It is alphabetized?”
“Naturally.”
Priya looked interested. “I should like to compare notes one day.”
Tamsin snorted. “Between the two of you we shall have our own secret Debrett’s.”
Priya tilted her head. “Tamsin, that is brilliant,” she said. “Instead of a list of peers, it will be a list of fortune hunters.”
“And jackasses.”
Clara’s entire spine tightened. “Language, Lady Tamsin.”
“Oh, bother it, it’s an apt word under the circumstances.”
“We each have twelve guineas,” Meg interrupted, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.
“I might splurge on new ribbons, now that we know how useful they are,” Priya said. “And some orchids.”