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Had Livie been attending this masquerade under normal circumstances, she might have been unnerved by the sheer magnificence of the costumes she glimpsed. Instead, all she could think about was Joshua.

She had told herself that the only reason she had once again breached societal rules by writing to a man—and this time begging him to meet her—was for the sake of her father.

But now? When she would see Joshua again any moment?

She found it impossible to stop smiling.

She meant to reveal her name and beg him for help, but in truth, her father’s trial wasn’t foremost in her mind.

She couldn’t stop thinking of Joshua’s kisses. The low groan in his throat that had made her blood race so quickly that she could hardly breathe. The way he had feasted on her, their mouths fused together. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her and deepened their kiss, stealing her breath along with her propriety.

He’d made her feel alive.

Her father’s admonishments drifted into her head, but she dismissed them. Ever since arranging this meeting, Livie couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect—how wanted—Joshua made her feel. In her father’s eyes, she was a disobedient wretch. Joshua wanted her to be disobedient, celebrated it, even.

She longed for the moment when he lost control—when he made her lose control. She wanted more of him, more of that burr of pleasure that made nonsense of society’s rules.

If she wasn’t careful, her giddy smile would turn into a laugh, the kind of laugh Captain Sir Tyron deplored. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Her father planned to marry her to his lecherous first mate, a man whom she scarcely knew, and who may well have even betrayed his country. The captain didn’t deserve her loyalty, though he still had her love.

“Is your veil in place?” she asked Daisy. “Let’s go!”

“We should have met the major in the park,” her cousin moaned, as they approached the butler, who stood at the top of the steps, looking like a particularly well-fed pigeon.

“These days Lord Devin waits for us in Hyde Park every morning,” Livie noted.

“That irritating curmudgeon is certain I’ll topple off my mount,” Daisy brooded. “Still, we should have offered to meet the major elsewhere.” She came to a halt. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Please reconsider, Livie.”

“Where else could we meet Joshua? In case you’ve forgotten, I’m still a pariah, and I can’t just walk around London in a masquerade veil, Daisy! It’s odd enough in Hyde Park. People invariably stare and whisper when I’m in a bookshop, and I daren’t even enter a café.”

“We could have found a place that no one in the fashionable world would dream of visiting. I have a great uncle buried in the Ironmongers Graveyard. I can see the note now: Meet me on the family tomb. Even better: Kiss me on the family tomb. The major would be there in a shot!”

“To quote you, ‘fiddle-faddle!’ ” Livie exclaimed, catching her cousin’s arm and drawing her up the steps. “Good evening!” she said to the butler, imitating her aunt’s imperious diction as she handed over the entrance ticket that had been tucked inside Lady Wharton’s invitation.

The butler frowned, likely wondering why two young ladies had arrived without a chaperone.

Fortunately, a large coach rattled to a stop on the street before he could ask for their names. Livie glanced over her shoulder as four liveried grooms leapt down and took their positions on either side of a door emblazoned with an impressive escutcheon.

A lady emerged, dressed in a gown fashionable two decades ago in the French court. Her voluminous skirts were trimmed with braided gold thread, incongruously topped by a masquerade hat, trimmed with its own golden braid and adorned with a gold-tinted veil. And on top of that?

A coronet, glittering with diamonds, just like Marie Antoinette might have worn.

“Lady Dolphinton is particularly resplendent tonight!” Livie exclaimed, turning back to the butler. “Perhaps one of the royal dukes accompanies her.”

The butler squinted toward the street and then handed back the entrance ticket. “Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Trent, have chosen to welcome guests inside the ballroom.” He bowed with perfunctory haste and trotted down the steps.

“Lady Dolphinton looks as if someone vomited gold braid all over her masquerade hat. I haven’t met her. How did you know whose coach it was?” Daisy whispered, as they entered the house.

“I have no idea who she is, or who owns that coach,” Livie replied.

Daisy shook her head, grinning. “After two decades in which my naughtiness was the talk of the nursery, you are stealing my title, Livie!”

A footman stepped forward and bowed. “Good evening. May I announce your arrival?”

Livie cleared her throat. “Just a moment, if you would.” She drew her cousin over to the side of the wide entrance hall.

“We mustn’t greet our hosts,” Daisy hissed. “Let’s hide in the ladies’ retiring room until the duchess opens the dance, then slip into the ballroom from a side door.”

“No, I must find Joshua!” Livie protested. “What if he gives up and leaves? Now that I’ve made up my mind to tell him who I am, I have to get it over with. I can’t lay awake another night!”