Lucien grinned. “It’s a brother’s duty to torment his younger sister. You forgot to mention the sister portrait featuring Circe and her nymphs as Odysseus’s men bow to them in the ladies’ foyer.”

“I’d love to see that,” Fiona said, more eager than ever to get into the Phoenix Club.

Lord Lucien’s gaze strayed for a moment, and he lifted his hand to someone in greeting.

A blond gentleman strode toward them. He was tall and slender with a soft, hesitant smile. “Evening, Lord Lucien.” His attention flitted toward Cassandra, Fiona, and Prudence.

“Good evening, Lord Gregory. Allow me to present my sister, Lady Cassandra, Miss Wingate, and her companion, Miss Lancaster.”

Lord Gregory bowed to each of them in turn, starting with Cassandra as propriety dictated. However, his gaze settled on Fiona. “Would you care to dance the next set, Miss Wingate?”

Fiona was surprised that he asked her instead of Cassandra. She was prettier and possessed a much higher rank. Surely that mattered to a lord? She had no idea of his actual rank. Lady Pickering had encouraged her to spend time looking through Debrett’s, but Fiona found reviewing people’s titles and trying to recall their names far less entertaining than, say, poring over a map and recalling the names of countries and cities and rivers and so on.

She inclined her head toward Lord Gregory. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“In the meantime, shall we promenade?” Lord Gregory asked pleasantly.

Part of Fiona didn’t want to leave her friend, but she was also feeling more confident about her dancing skill and wanted to see if she’d actually improved. Or perhaps she supposed nothing could be worse than what had happened the day before at the queen’s drawing room. “Yes, let’s.” She curtsied to Lord Lucien and Cassandra and nodded at Prudence before taking Lord Gregory’s arm.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Wingate,” Lord Lucien said as they departed.

The Basildons’ ballroom was much larger than the Edgemonts’ had been, but then their house was bigger overall too. Hundreds of candles illuminated the space and mirrors probably made the size seem more impressive.

They started on a circuit of the perimeter. Fiona wondered if she would see her guardian.

“You’re a friend of Lord Lucien’s?” Fiona asked. “Lady Cassandra has become a dear friend to me since I came to London.”

“I don’t know him well, no. We’ve only recently become more directly acquainted. He attended Oxford with my older brother.”

“I see.”

“I still don’t have an invitation!” a lady declared in an impossible-to-ignore shrill tone as they passed her. “I can’t believe you do!”

Fiona glanced toward the woman who’d spoken. In her late thirties, her face was quite florid and her expression outraged.

“I’m sure yours will come soon,” the other woman, who stood in profile to them, soothed in a calmer, quieter voice.

“I wonder if they’re speaking of the Phoenix Club,” Fiona said as they left the pair of ladies behind. “It seems to be quite the rage.”