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“He’s very young to have the rank of major, isn’t he? Think of how happy your father will be, although admittedly, Captain Sir Tyron wouldn’t want his daughter to be kissing a strange man in public. Or privately, for that matter.”
“Can you imagine?” Livie found herself whispering. “Father is always directing me to avoid occasions where people display light behavior. And he’s thinking about Drury Lane theater, not a dissolute masquerade!”
“Captain Sir Tyron would not approve of Rothingale,” Daisy agreed. “But how could we have known of the sheer depth of his depravity?”
Livie shook off that worry. “More importantly, Major FitzRoy’s reputation would be damaged if anyone knew that he’d kissed the daughter of a traitor.”
Daisy frowned. “You really think so?”
“Military careers—like naval careers—are vulnerable to scandal. Joshua’s career would be finished.”
Daisy bit her bottom lip. “There’s always next Season, after the captain has been cleared of his charges.”
“Yes, but what if people never accept that my father is innocent? Or, God forbid, if he’s convicted?” Livie asked, her deepest fears spilling from her mouth.
Daisy shook her head. “That won’t happen.”
“Even once my father is released, some people will always consider his reputation besmirched.”
“Are you worried that we won’t have vouchers next Season?”
“I don’t care about Almack’s!”
“The charge is that Uncle met with a group of traitors in France. Once they find the Englishman who impersonated your father, no one can possibly believe the allegations.”
“But what if they never find the imposter?” Livie asked, clearing her throat. “I’m so afraid, Daisy. I feel sick every time I think about it.”
“You must have faith,” Daisy said, leaning over to give her another kiss on the cheek. “Lord Devin is working on behalf of your father. He may be frightfully condescending, but I trust he will find the truth.”
“What if Joshua—Major FitzRoy—decides that he has to marry me because of our kiss? What if he ruins his career over a point of honor?”
“I shall eviscerate Lord Devin if he says a word about our identity,” Daisy declared cheerfully. “I’ll write him immediately and let him know.”
“I don’t think you can bend him to your will. And you shouldn’t correspond with a man, Daisy!”
“Pooh,” Daisy said. “No more moralizing from you. You’ve lost all claim to being the more prudish of us. I’m not afraid of Lord Devin.”
“He is old and powerful.”
“He’s not old,” Daisy protested. “Just stodgy. He can’t be thirty, because he was at school with Lord Argyle.”
“That’s ten years older than we are.”
“He seems old because he’s so censorious. We should go to sleep, unless …” Daisy leaned over and poked Livie. “You’d care to tell me more about kissing?”
Livie gave her a crooked smile. “Obviously, it was my first kiss, but I have to admit that it was rather wonderful.”
“Like in Romeo and Juliet?”
“I have nothing in common with those two idiots,” Livie said, sitting up. “If you think I’d stab myself over a man, you’re vastly mistaken.”
“Romeo’s cousin took him to a masquerade just the way I did,” Daisy pointed out. “You’re not in an Eliza Hayworth novel, but a Shakespeare play!”
Livie shrugged. “Remember that production we saw in February, when Romeo kissed Juliet behind a convenient pillar? If we’d found a pillar, Joshua wouldn’t feel compelled to propose to me.”
“Romeo’s cousin takes him to the ball so he can fall in love with someone better than Rosaline.” Daisy waggled her eyebrows madly. “There’s another masquerade next week, hosted by the Duchess of Trent—’The American Duchess,’ they call her.”
“I don’t wish to forget Joshua,” Livie protested.
