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who she was,” Lizzie said frankly. “I have never engaged in such a manner with any man before. I was rather in shock—it was almost as if I were outside of myself, listening to my own repartee!”
    Georgie stared in real concern. “But you did not go. You went home, leaving your costume with Anna.”
    Lizzie bit her lip. “I was terrified he would unmask me and be sorely disappointed. Still, if I had gone, there would have been a kiss, and Georgie, I so want to be kissed by him.”
    “You did the right thing,” Georgie said in her usual brisk tone. “Nothing could ever come of such an association—unless you welcomed an illicit one.”
    Lizzie was about to insist that she would never do such a thing, but remembering her secretly bold dreams, she found she could say nothing.
    “You did the right thing,” Georgie repeated. She began to smile, while Lizzie wondered if her sister was right. “But you did succeed, Lizzie. You impressed him, and if he did think you foolish before, now, he clearly admires you.”
    “Yes, he did seem to admire me,” she said softly. Oddly, any pleasure in that triumph was outweighed by Lizzie’s regret.
     
    “Where is Anna?” Mama said sternly.
    Lizzie had just come inside after a long morning walk down a nearby country road. She had hoped for distraction from her far-too-vivid daydreams. Before, Tyrell had been a pleasant fantasy whom she had summoned upat will. Now he haunted her at every turn. Shoving his image aside, she faced her mother. Carefully she said, “Is something wrong, Mama?”
    “Yes, something is wrong.” Mama marched to the bottom of the stairs. “Anna! Please come down this minute, as I wish to speak with you and Lizzie.”
    Lizzie had the distinct sense that they were in for a serious comedown.
    Anna came down the stairs in her white lawn nightgown, white cap and a lawn robe. “Mama?” She exchanged a worried glance with Lizzie.
    “The two of you, into the parlor, if you please.” And Mama marched ahead of them into the room.
    Exchanging more glances, both sisters followed rather meekly. Mama was waiting near the door, which she solidly closed and placed her hands on her hips. “Is it true, Lizzie, that you were flirting with a pirate?” she demanded, her cheeks high with color.
    Lizzie blinked. From the corner of her eye, she saw Anna flush. Of course, she could not lie. “Yes.”
    Mama’s eyes were wide. “Mrs. Holiday saw you in the game room! She said the most extreme flirtation was in place!”
    “I thought you wanted me to flirt,” Lizzie said very cautiously.
    “Oh, I do!” Mama cried, rushing to her and gripping her hands. “I am so pleased with you! But you,” she snapped, turning to Anna, “you were supposed to leave the ball after the shameless behavior I witnessed! You have turned into an incorrigible coquette, missy, and I do not like it, I do not! I saw that waltz! Why, they do not even allow waltzes at Almack’s. And then you blatantly disobey me, your very own mother! Instead of leaving the ball you connived with your sister, ruining what could be her singlechance at marriage!” She whipped her attention to Lizzie, who felt rather shocked and at the same time, somewhat worried over her mother’s extreme temper. “Who was he?” Mama demanded. “There were at least a half a dozen pirates at the ball. Who was he, Lizzie?”
    Lizzie swallowed hard. Her mind raced. If she told her mother the truth—as she was honorably bound—she could not even imagine what Mama would do. She might, ridiculously, think to try to make a match, and Lizzie could imagine how humiliating that would be. But how could she lie? She turned to look at her sister for help, but Anna looked away.
    Nervously, she said, “He was masked, Mama. I don’t know.”
    “You don’t know?” Mama exclaimed in disbelief. “You finally meet a man interested in you—Mrs. Holiday said she has never witnessed such a degree of interest before—and you do not