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“Like mother, like daughter. I did my best,” the captain repeated. He was still looking at Lord Devin. “Still, I couldn’t allow her to marry a man of rank, could I? Not coming from … that. Not with her stained soul. Cassio comes from nothing, but he’s made something of himself.”

“He’s made a traitor of himself,” Lord Devin stated.

“Nonsense,” the captain spat, pivoting and walking over to the mantelpiece. “Slander, mere slander.”

“Treasonous letters exist. The crucial, flowery sentence could have been written by him. Likewise, the ink blots could have been added while inscribing your letters or directly thereafter. He had access to your seal, which he could have stolen.”

“The seal?” the captain said, rolling his eyes. “First you allege a hidden code, and now you cry theft over my missing seal? Why would he need to steal the seal? He had use of it whenever he wished.”

“The two French witnesses who will speak against you at trial disclosed that the letters convincing them to join the plot were signed by you and impressed with your seal,” Lord Devin said.

“Obviously, my seal was stolen, but not by Cassio!” The captain was furious, the words spurting from his mouth.

“We have been over this ground before,” Lord Devin retorted. “The person most likely to have written the letters and sealed them is, of course, you.”

The captain snorted.

“He didn’t,” Livie said, feeling bitterness in the back of her throat, but forcing the truth out. “Captain Sir Tyron is not a kind man, but he is an honorable one.” She turned to her father. “It seems that I owe you thanks for my keeping and education.”

“Lady Wharton,” he bit out.

“My aunt paid for everything? You never repaid her for my expenses?” The words fell sharply from her tongue. For the first time, she let herself understand that her “father” was a miserable person, a hollow man in a red coat.

“I did not agree with her desire to present you to society. It would have been better to bring you up in the country among your own kind,” the captain said. His gaze finally settled on her, but his eyes slid away as though her face was disfigured. “I told Lady Wharton that it would break your heart to debut like a young lady and then be unable to marry. She argued with me, thinking that the truth could be hidden, but I warned her that honor demanded I tell your suitors the truth, no matter what it cost me. No man would take her after that.”

“I think you’ll find you’re mistaken,” Lord Devin said.

The captain snorted. “Is that a proposal?”

“It is not,” Livie said, cutting in. “I suggest we put this revelation to the side and discuss Mr. Cassio.”

She couldn’t help herself; even after all Livie had learned, she didn’t want the captain to be executed for treachery. He wasn’t worthy of her trust, but she knew him better than anyone else.

“You think Cassio will still take you as a wife after you have tried to have him imprisoned for treason?” His voice dripped with disdain.

The captain was prideful, obstinate, mean-spirited—but he was law-abiding. A rule-follower. All those years of letters had been directed at teaching her the conduct required of a lady; he would never break those that applied to his own behavior.

It hurt to recognize that both men whom she had loved—and still did love—rejected her in order to protect their honor. “Captain Sir Tyron, do you refuse to consider the possibility that Mr. Cassio altered your letters?” she asked, her voice rasping.

His lip curled. “Perhaps you’ll become a solicitor. Makes as much sense as a whore’s daughter circling Almack’s dancefloor.”

“Do not speak of my mother—and your wife—in such an ill-bred manner,” Livie snapped.

His cheeks turned from red to purple, and his eyes bulged. Like a frog’s, Livie thought uncharitably. He was no longer her father—in fact, he had never been. She owed him nothing, not even respect.

“If not Cassio, and if not you, then who altered your letters?” Lord Devin demanded.

The captain turned his protuberant eyes toward him. “Some ruffian on board my ship, someone below my notice. Cassio is a good man, a loyal man.” He hesitated for an infinitesimal moment. “Every word of those letters is mine,” he added.

“I had hoped you would corroborate our suspicions. Even so, I shall call a meeting of the Special Commission, as we have enough evidence to move forward with Cassio’s arrest,” Lord Devin said with a jaundiced tone. “I can domicile him in the cell next to yours, if you wish. Though normally prisoners of his status would be housed in the common cells, underground.”

As the captain broke into an outraged bellow at the mention of Cassio’s arrest, Livie turned and walked to the door, knocking to be let out. She tried to ignore Captain Sir Tyron’s furious protest as the guard slid back the deadbolt.

This time, when she walked into the courtyard, Daisy wasn’t waiting in the sunshine. The air was gray and hazy with rain. Pools were forming between uneven cobblestones.

Her mind had gone numb.

She had lost everything. Her father—no, the captain—seemed likely to go to the gallows protesting Cassio’s innocence. Her dearest friend in the world, Daisy, would be disgraced by the court case, but not nearly as disgraced as Livie would be as the daughter of the traitor.