Papa was hunting in a drawer of his desk. “I had something… ah, yes. Here it is. A present for each of you, girls. There, Cilla. Something for your first ball. And Livy, I realize I didn’t give you a gift for your first ball, so allow me to make up for that lapse.” He handed each girl a jeweler’s box, tied shut with a ribbon. He must have taken advice from Aunt Ginny, for one ribbon was a pale pink and the other damascene.
“Thank you, Papa,” Cilla said, and Livy hastened to add her own thanks.
They both pulled the ribbon loose and opened their boxes—a necklace each. Cilla’s was a long string of pearls with a diamond clasp. Livy’s was of rubies and diamonds set in gold filigree work.
“Oh, Papa,” said Cilla. “How beautiful. Livy, yours is beautiful too. Let me help you put it on.”
“I’ll do yours, and then you do mine.” She caught her father’s eye. “Thank you, Pa. It is… I did not expect…”
“Just make sure you do me credit,” Pa said, and Livy would have taken offense, except he was dabbing at his eyes again, and she guessed he was being gruff to defend himself against the softer emotions. She would be snarling herself, if not for Cilla.
She settled the pearls around Cilla’s neck in three loops, held by the clasp, and then turned her back so Cilla could put the ruby necklace in place and fasten it.
“They suit you,” Pa said. Probably to Cilla, or perhaps to them both, for he smiled at Livy, too. Cilla danced across the room and gave Pa a kiss on the cheek.
“Run along with you now. Have fun, dear,” said Pa.
I wish I could be as spontaneous. Livy met her father’s gaze, feeling awkward. Once again, she had the sense that he and she were feeling much the same. She curtseyed. “I love my necklace, Pa,” she said.
“It suits you,” he replied. “I know I do not need to tell you to keep an eye on your sister. She is not like you and me. She trusts people.”
“She has a sweet soul,” Livy said.
Pa nodded. “True. You see that. I see that. The problem is they are not nice people, a lot of them. The upper sort. I wish she had not wanted this, Olivia. But you know how hard I find it, saying no to your sister.”
“I shall watch over her, Pa.”
“I know you will do your best, Livy. That’s why I insisted on you coming. Your aunt—she cares too much about the silly things. Titles. Status.” He shook his head and sighed. “I knew I could trust you. You have a lot of sense, Livy, and for Cilla, you will do your best. Just be careful, Olivia. Off you go, now.”
Gracious. Pa was complimenting her! And her abiding irritation with being in London melted away in light of his reasons. She was here to look after Cilla. If only he had explained before, she would never have objected.
Cilla was primping in front of the hall mirror. Barker was waiting with their shawls, fans, and reticules. The butler was hovering, and as soon as Olivia descended to the hall, he said, “The carriage is ready, Miss Wintergreen, Miss Lucilla.”
Livy only had time for a brief glance in the mirror, and they were on their way.
“We are going to have the best time!” Cilla proclaimed.
Livy hoped so. She certainly hoped so.
