Earl of Scandal (London Lords) by Mary Gillgannon

them.
    “How unkind of you, Merissa, accusing Lord Bedlington of dishonesty. Just because you’ve quarreled with him.”
    “We did not quarrel!”
    Elizabeth smoothed the embroidery in her lap. “So you say, but I cannot imagine any other reason for your bad temper these past days, nor for your rude comments regarding His Lordship either. Something has gotten your nose out of joint. Even Papa has commented on it.”
    Merissa gritted her teeth: If only she could forget the irritating Mr. Faraday and restore her life to normal. But there seemed no hope for it. Even as she tried to convince herself that what had occurred between them had absolutely no significance, an invitation arrived, asking, nay, begging the Misses Cassell to attend a small soiree at Darton Park on. Friday, the 15th of March.
    They could not go. That’s all there was to it, no matter that Elizabeth thought it would be the height of bad manners to refuse.
    “We’ve nothing to wear,” Merissa pointed out to her sister. “The other guests will be much too grand for us. We shall look like poor church mice by comparison.”
    “Pooh, I can’t think that Lord Bedlington would be impressed by such superficial nonsense. Why, he seemed so sincere, completely without presumption.”
    Merissa glanced despairingly to the heavens. Mr. Faraday had certainly managed to pull the wool over her sister’s eyes. Hardly a difficult feat. Elizabeth was always eager to believe the best of everyone. “Well, perhaps it doesn’t bother you to be laughed at, but I abhor the idea. I’ve endured enough condescending glances from Mrs. Hammond to last me a lifetime.”
    “There are some things of Mother’s packed away that might be made over,” Elizabeth offered timidly. “I’m certain if we put our minds to it, we could contrive some sort of respectable attire. After all, it’s not as if we are invited to an earl’s house every day.”
    Elizabeth wanted to go! The notion shocked Merissa. She’d always seen her older sister as eminently practical and without a shred of vanity. Peculiar to think that Elizabeth fancied the notion of attending a party.
    Of course, it would be fun to dress up for one night, to pretend to be real ladies. As the idea caught fire in Merissa’s mind, she remembered years ago when their mother had shown them the things in her special trunk—the satin, tulle, and silk flowers—and alluded to the day when they would “come out.”
    But their mother had died when Elizabeth was fifteen and Merissa ten, and there had been no other female relative around to concern themselves with the girls’ social future. Merissa had always told herself that she had no interest in such foolery, but with this opportunity, she suddenly realized she nurtured a secret longing to satisfy the purely female part of herself. She dreamed of wearing something dainty and exquisite, of winning admiring glances as she danced across an elegant ballroom.
    “Perhaps it would be amusing to play Cinderella,” she said thoughtfully. “I doubt that Mr. Faraday will pay much attention to us, despite his impassioned invitation. But we will have our own enjoyment planning the evening. Like the times when we put on plays as children.” A lump suddenly choked Merissa. Charles had enacted the male roles, portraying heroes and villains with dramatic flourish. Oh, how she missed those innocent days!
    “Let’s go look in the trunk,” Elizabeth urged excitedly. “It’s been years since I’ve thought of it, but I remember that it held so many beautiful things.”
    ~ ~ ~
       Merissa stared at the image in the glass and brought a hand to her neck to arrange the lace collar.  Slowly, she turned her head, trying to get a glimpse of the back of her coiffure.  Elizabeth had arranged her hair in an upswept arrangement, with little tendrils hanging down around her face and silk flowers in the crown.  With the new gown, and her neck exposed and the hair off her forehead, she looked