Page 49

“You shouldn’t say that,” Livie said instinctively. “You might stop drinking brandy. Fall in love and get married. You don’t have to only … only … married women,” she faltered.

His smile widened. “I gather you’ve gathered your information not from Debrett’s but from quite accurate gossip. I like you. Trust Joshua to have found a gem in this wasteland of glass stones. At any rate, darling, I have no intention of marrying, but you’ll have to drag Joshua off the battlefield if you want to keep him safe.”

Livie shook her head. “I would never do that. He’s a soldier to the bone.”

“He plans to return to war even though he’s not fully recovered from the last injury—did he tell you about it?”

“He mentioned it,” Livie said. She could feel herself blushing. “We haven’t talked very much.”

“You’re well-bred, all right,” Frederick muttered. “I’m guessing there’s an army man in your family, and that your father is a baron or above.”

She couldn’t help smiling at him. “Neither.”

“Then his father is or was a baron or above.”

“True!”

“If not army, navy?”

She nodded.

“How on earth did Joshua find you?” Frederick mused, bracing his shoulder more firmly against the wall. “My brother told me about the Rothingale masquerade, and it sounded like a hurly-burly brothel, if you don’t mind plain speaking.”

Livie cleared her throat. The crowd around them had thinned as couples paired off and joined the dance. “The guest list was surprising.”

“Ladybirds.”

“Not just ladybirds,” Livie said, grinning at him. “Birds of paradise, wagtails, and parrots. Your brother enriched my vocabulary in that respect.”

“That’s not his style, in case you’re wondering,” Frederick said. “Not that I’ve ever heard ‘parrots’ in that context. Not my style, either. I don’t mind drinking myself to death, but I’ll be damned if I’ll die of the pox.”

Livie nodded. “At least one is a choice rather than a malady.”

“Oh, they’re both maladies,” Frederick said wryly. “Don’t ever take up drinking—it’s too hard to give up. You’re rather unusual, aren’t you? I’d think most young ladies would be prostrate with horror at this conversation.”

Which reminded Livie of Regina squawking on the floor, so her smile widened. “Not me.”

He cocked his head, and suddenly he really did resemble Joshua. “Were you responsible for that commotion up front? From what I heard, some woman fell on her arse.”

“Why would you think I had anything to do with it?” Livie asked, knowing her eyes were dancing.

“I saw you enter with Lady Regina. I’d tumble her if given a chance,” Frederick said feelingly. “And I’m definitely not referring to ‘tumble’ as a bedsport.”

“She’s unkind,” Livie said. “As well as shamelessly ambitious with regard to marrying a nobleman.”

“She won’t get there by way of marriage to Joshua. He’s as loyal as they come, and he has his sights fixed on you. Many a younger brother would have written me off as an intoxicated boozer, kicked me to the side—if not into the river—and started planning to take over the estate once our father is gone. Not Joshua.”

“Of course not,” Livie said indignantly. “That would be horrid. Murderous.”

“Tries to get me to stop drinking, of course. But not in a loathsome way.”

Livie bit her lip.

“You won’t be able to talk me out of it, either,” he continued, a note of apology in his voice. “I’m a four-bottle man, and there I shall stay. Before you inquire, brandy, not wine.”

“Four bottles of brandy … every day?”

“It doesn’t floor me.”