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Daisy groaned. “The man won’t leave before meeting you, Livie. I’m sure he was up at night too, thinking of you.” She leaned in and said in a naughty whisper, “Not just thinking.”

Livie rolled her eyes. Ever since Daisy read City of Eros, she believed that men took solitary pleasure everywhere—even behind curtains at a ball.

“You are mistaken,” Livie told her. “That act is so undignified … and Daisy, this isn’t the time or place to debate it.”

“Obviously, Lord Devin doesn’t pleasure himself,” Daisy said, pursuing her own train of thought. “He’s far too haughty. I suspect he considers himself above bedplay.”

“He attended Lord Rothingale’s masquerade,” Livie pointed out. “Unlike Joshua, Devin knew perfectly well who was invited to that house, which suggests he was looking for an amorous encounter.” She could hear the party from the large coach coming up the path, chattering at the top of their lungs.

“Consorting with loose women is not a point in his favor,” Daisy said loftily.

“Lord Devin isn’t coming tonight, is he?” Livie asked, alarmed. That particular gentleman would not only recognize them, but promptly drag them out of the ball.

“No. I inquired yesterday morning—in a casual way, so he didn’t suspect,” Daisy said, glancing to her side at the open door leading outside. “We must go, or we’ll be herded into the ballroom and discovered.”

“No, wait,” Livie said, but Daisy whirled to face the footman.

“Oh, no!” she cried in a high voice. “My flounce ripped when I climbed from the carriage! I assume the ladies’ retiring room is still next to the library?”

The footman bowed and began to reply, but she rushed past him and down the long corridor leading to the back of the house.

Livie had no intention of waiting until the Duchess of Trent signaled the first dance to see Joshua. Marie Antoinette and five or six other costumed revelers were about to enter, and another carriage had drawn to a halt on the street. Their Graces might be caught in the receiving line for an hour or more.

She needed more than Joshua’s help. She needed that steady gaze of his that told her she was worthy, even though her father thought otherwise. She needed kisses that made her feel not just desirable but cherished. Livie drew in a shaky breath.

She could follow the next group of guests into the ballroom and disappear into the crowd while they greeted the duke and duchess. She pulled out her fan and waved it before her face.

“I shall cool my face while I wait for my cousin to return,” she announced for the benefit of the hovering footman.

Before he could respond, Marie Antoinette traipsed through the door, followed by a throng of babbling guests. The gentlemen began relinquishing their hats and the ladies adjusting their millinery. Mrs. Mogbetty had certainly been right about the popularity of her masquerade hats.

To Livie’s horror, one voice immediately rose over the clamor.

“Be attentive, if you please,” Lady Regina said sharply to the footman, who had rushed to attend her. “Stand farther off. I shall be most displeased if my skirts are stained by greasy hands.”

Lady Regina, dressed as Marie Antoinette, was ready to command the commoners to eat cake, since they had no bread.

Livie turned away, vigorously waving her fan and pretending she was fascinated by the wallpaper. Regina would undoubtedly lead the way into the ballroom. Livie could trail after the group and slip away.

“Who is that?” Regina asked the butler in piercing tones.

The butler murmured something.

“Nonsense,” she said. “I recognize her. Miss Petunia Massinger was undoubtedly chaperoned by her sister.” She raised her voice. “Petunia, were you waiting for me?”

Obviously, Livie should shake her head and retreat. She should turn and rush down the corridor.

But Daisy was right: Livie didn’t feel like her father’s docile daughter any longer. Just this moment?

She couldn’t resist temptation.

“Good evening!” she chirped, turning toward Regina.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

REBELLING AGAINST REGINA

“So kind of you to wait for me, dear, though you will have to strike out on your own sooner or later,” Regina said, walking over to Livie.