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“She’s better off without him,” Frederick said bluntly. “He’ll go to war again, after all. The problem is that he’s not better off without her. He’ll make his way to a battlefield and jump in front of a cannon. Shit.”

“You’re not supposed to curse in front of me,” Daisy observed.

Frederick spared her a glance. “Save your missishness for someone else. Your face speaks for itself. I’d guess you have a bigger vocabulary of expletives than I do.”

Daisy gave him a disarming grin. “Perhaps. So, if Major FitzRoy won’t help with my uncle’s case … what about you?”

“Me?”

“You are Lord Paget’s son as well, aren’t you?” She caught his arm and pulled him away from the wall. “Your little brother may be a swine, but you can make up for it. You can’t tell me that your ‘honor’ matters, because from what I’ve heard, you don’t have any.”

“Bloody hell,” Frederick muttered as Daisy yanked open the sitting room door.

She grinned at him over her shoulder. “That’s one of my favorite curses.”

Livie was not crying.

She was too furious to cry.

When Daisy walked in, Joshua’s brother in tow, Livie didn’t even blink, just informed them both, “Major FitzRoy is a nonentity whom I never met.” Her voice allowed no disagreement.

Daisy raised her eyebrows, but Frederick grinned. “Understandable. There’s been many a time I’ve wished that I had never met my relatives. If we’re going to get specific, I would prefer that my parents had never met.”

“I want to go home,” Livie said stonily.

“Frederick is going to help us with your father’s case,” Daisy said.

Looking at Joshua’s brother, Livie thought he was even more unsteady than he had been earlier in the evening. His eyes were red-rimmed, his neck cloth crumpled, and the air around him so thick with brandied fumes that it could have been set aflame.

“I will try, but my father is as stiff-rumped as my brother,” he said. “God knows the earl wouldn’t take account of my opinion if I offered it. Before you ask, Lord Paget wouldn’t take a bribe either, even accompanied by a heap of coins. So, what can I possibly do to help?”

“We don’t have any extra money,” Daisy said, picking up an armful of clothing from the couch and dropping it on the floor, followed by another.

“The duchess might be a trifle peeved by that,” Frederick remarked.

“Her Grace shouldn’t leave piles of clothing on the only seating in the room!”

“She didn’t. I did,” Frederick said, shambling over and dropping onto the now-empty sofa. “I had to clear out the wardrobe so the lovebirds could hide from evil Regina.”

“Regina!” Daisy exclaimed, sitting down. “What does she have to do with it? Oh, never mind. Livie, come over here!”

Livie walked over slowly. She was trying to hang on to the coal of rage in her heart. She’d put so much faith in Joshua, and the pounding beat of “stupid” in her head only compounded the blend of sorrow and shame she felt at the thought of his chilly disapproval.

“I appreciate your willingness to help,” she told Frederick. “Your brother was less gracious.”

“Got on his high horse, I expect,” he said, nodding. “Joshua’s chockful of honor. It’s like a sludge in the blood that he inherited from my father. Needless to say, the trait skipped me.”

“I didn’t expect him to bribe your father,” Livie said. “I just thought …” Her voice trailed off.

“You wanted him to listen and to try to help,” Frederick said, his voice softening, one side of his mouth crooking up. “Believe me, I understand. So tell me.”

Livie sank down between them and blurted out the whole. “Mr. Cassio is an obvious suspect,” she finished.

“Whether he is or not, better for you to see him thrown in the Tower than waiting at the altar,” Frederick remarked. “We need proof.” He slid down until his head was supported by the back of the sofa, legs stretched out before him.

“I have no proof,” Livie said unhappily.

“What about your father’s letters?” Daisy asked. “Perhaps there’s a clue in the captain’s reports. We can take his correspondence out of the trunk, arrange it by date, and scan each one!”