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“I am nearing the end of my patience,” Regina spat.

Petunia put down some coins and gave the shopgirl one of her vacuous smiles. “I shall wear this out of the shop, if you’d please have my old bonnet delivered to #38, Grosvenor Square.”

“Certainly, ma’am,” the shopgirl murmured.

“I shall never return!” Regina announced.

“No loss,” Mrs. Mogbetty retorted.

Petunia turned around. “I must say, Regina, there’s something fantastically commonplace about your mind when you’re in a temper.”

The shopkeeper pointedly opened the door. Petunia drifted through it, putting her head back just long enough to say, “Well, do come along, Regina.”

“I am the daughter of a duke,” Regina informed the shopkeeper. “My monthly allowance is more than the rent on this despicable little hovel that you call a shop.”

“I am the daughter of a decent man,” Mrs. Mogbetty retorted. “I can’t imagine what your father was like, but unless you replace that bonnet you’re holding, I’ll call him a thief and you his true daughter.”

Regina looked down at the straw bonnet she still held. She made for the exit, throwing the hat disdainfully back into the shop as she left.

Livie snatched it out of the air—not for nothing had she shared a nursery with her excitable cousin for so many years. “What a lovely bonnet,” she said, plunking it on her head and turning to the glass. “I look quite pretty in it, don’t you think, Daisy?”

“I doubt that you could look any prettier than you are,” Mrs. Mogbetty said frankly. “You have those eyes they talk about, Miss.”

Livie was adjusting the bonnet’s ribbon, so the bow was under one ear. “My eyes are not blue, my hair isn’t yellow, and my chin isn’t pointed, Mrs. Mogbetty. But that said, I much appreciate your kindness!”

“You have dancing eyes,” Mrs. Mogbetty stated.

Daisy wound an arm around Livie’s waist and kissed her on the cheek. “She’s right. I don’t care how beautiful Lady Regina is.”

“Oh, is that her name?” Mrs. Mogbetty said broodily. “I have customers in high places.”

“She’s not worth the trouble,” Livie said. “We intend to ignore her, don’t we, Daisy? It’s just that at the moment we’re excluded from society, so we haven’t had the chance.”

“Next Season, after Livie’s father is cleared of these unfair charges, we shall go to all the balls and ignore Lady Regina at every one!” Daisy agreed. “It will be an enormous pleasure. Almost as much fun as finding a beau.”

“More fun,” Livie said. “You can’t imagine how everyone bows and scrapes before her, Mrs. Mogbetty. It’s turned her into a monster.”

The milliner grinned. “I can see the two of you straightening out high society in no time. That is not the bonnet for you, Miss Livie, if you don’t mind my calling you that. You’ve too much hair for it.”

“But it’s so adorable.”

“If your hair is atop your head, the hat will perch up there like a birdhouse. And if you wear it down, as you have it now, a horse’s tail seems to spring from the back of your neck. I shall find something better.”

Livie peered over her shoulder and sure enough, mahogany curls rioted down her back.

Mrs. Mogbetty returned holding a delicious scrap of coral silk: a circle topped with small roses. “This is designed to be worn by a lady with a wealth of hair. Just look at this.” She tweaked something in the brim, and a veil unfurled.

Daisy took the hat and held on top of Livie’s head. “The little veil hides your horse tail, Livie.”

Livie swatted her. “You have just as much hair as I have.”

“You’re holding it backwards,” Mrs. Mogbetty said. She flipped the circlet about and set it on Livie’s head as if it were a coronet, anchoring it with a hatpin.

“I can see through the veil,” Livie exclaimed. She lifted the silk and smiled at Mrs. Mogbetty. “It’s translucent.”

“This is a masquerade hat,” Mrs. Mogbetty explained. “Masques and masquerades are all the rage these days. The hats are worn by ladies who go to Vauxhall and such, where they do not wish to be recognized by their husbands.” She blinked. “Not that you should know anything about that, and I regret bringing up such a disgraceful topic.”

“How interesting,” Livie said. She walked over to the window. “It’s as if the street is blushing. Everything is pink.”