“Absolutely.” Devon flashed one of his rare and very wicked looking grins. “We must have her.”
Christian narrowed his eyes. “You don’t even know the family’s name. And I have no intention of divulging it.”
“Ah, but I’m certain William knows,” Devon said. “According to Ginter, he accompanied you there today to retrieve your horses. Given that William is my employee, I believe he will see fit to offer up information regarding your rescuers.”
Christian shrugged. “Invite her then. She won’t come. I told you, she despises all of the nobility. She would not be caught dead at such a gathering.”
“Truly?” Caroline teased. “You mean to say that she won’t be tempted to come, even knowing that it will give her a chance to torment you some more.”
As he met Caroline’s twinkling gaze, Christian had the sudden feeling that she might be right. It would be very like Merissa Cassell to accept the invitation in order to provoke him.
Not that it would be so awful if she did accept. Especially if she wore something more enticing than her usual high-necked serge dress. Merissa Cassell in a fashionable gown would be something to behold.
“Very well then,” he said. “Her name’s Merissa Cassell and she lives about ten miles the other side of Derlingham. Her father is rector of a nearby church. You’re welcome to invite the whole family if you wish. Elizabeth—she’s the older sister—might actually accept. She’s such a lovely gracious woman, she’d probably consider it rude to refuse.”
Now, there was an idea, Christian thought. If the invitation was couched in the right terms, Elizabeth might force her sister to come.
“The Cassell sisters.” Caroline nodded. “I’ll have a note sent directly.”
“Be sure to impress upon them that it is my personal wish they attend,” Christian said. “They must understand that I view their acceptance as the only possible way I can repay their kindness for taking me in.”
“Odd, isn’t it, Devon?” Caroline’ remarked. “A moment ago, Christian insisted that he would not divulge the name of his amour even under torture. Now he appears to want her to come.”
“A sad thing.” Devon gently rocked the snoozing baby in his arms. “Love makes fools of even the sharpest-witted men.”
“Love?” Christian shook his head. “Merissa Cassell’s a shrew, a real termagant. You’ll see. And she hates my bloody guts. If I were going to fall in love, I’d at least choose a woman who liked me!”
“Would you now?” Caroline smiled in a most irritating fashion.
~ ~ ~
“Don’t you see, Elizabeth, how cleverly the invitation is worded? He wants to make us feel guilty if we don’t come.” Merissa frowned as she reread the parchment note. Since it had arrived that morning, everything seemed to be at sixes and sevens. Elizabeth would insist that they go. She could not see that Christian Faraday was arrogantly manipulating 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 like someone else—someone sophisticated and exotic.
She bit her lips to redden them, then made a pouting moi. To enhance the effect, she tilted up her chin and lowered her eyelashes.
Heavens! When she did that, she appeared as a wanton, or, at least what she supposed a wanton looked like. Perhaps she merely resembled the illustration in the eight-year-old copy of “Le Beau Monde” they had found in the attic.
She made a hideous face, then attempted the sultry expression again, fascinated by the transformation.
“Admiring your beauty, are you?” Elizabeth’s gentle voice broke into Merissa’s reverie. “I must say, you look stunning.” She wrapped her arms around Merissa’s shoulders and stood on tiptoe to kiss her sister’s cheek.
“Oh, Elizabeth.” Merissa fondly returned the embrace. “You’ve done wonders. The dress looks exactly like the picture, and my hair...” She fingered the silk roses and gave a satisfied sigh.
“I’m pleased you like it.” Elizabeth stepped back and examined her critically. “But I wish I could have found a lighter shade for the underskirt. I’m not certain the bright pink is all the thing.”
“But the rest of it is perfect,” Merissa insisted. “The high waist, the short puffed sleeves, the lace bodice. And your dress...” She nodded to Elizab
eth’s attire, “although the design is simple, the green color makes your skin look like ivory and brings out the gold in your hair.”
“You’re certain that the style is not scandalous?” Elizabeth looked down at the square neckline that exposed her neck and shoulders.
“Nonsense. It’s not as if the bodice is particularly low cut. Why, in some of those pictures, the women look as if they might fall out of the gowns altogether!” Merissa blushed. When she and her sister had first perused the magazine, she had briefly imagined herself in one of those outrageous styles, with her breasts half exposed to Christian Faraday’s eager examination.
In the end she had selected something much more modest for Elizabeth to copy, with a high neck and demure lace bodice.
“Well, I must pronounce myself quite pleased with the way we look,” Elizabeth said. “While we may not be in the very height of fashion, we both appear very elegant.”
“Have you heard if Richard will be there?”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to blush. “I don’t know, but it would be delightful if he did come. At least then we would have someone to talk with. I confess that I find the idea of entering a room full of strangers unsettling. Of course,” she added quickly, “Lord Bedlington will be there. And we must remember what Papa has always told us, that a person’s worth cannot be measured by their clothes or other outward trappings. When we are judged before God, it will be on the basis of our good works and what is in our hearts.”
Merissa nodded. “Indeed, we must not forget that truth.”
Despite the reassuring words, she could not quite shake her own nervousness. No matter how much she told herself that she did not care what the people at Darton Park thought of her, she knew that she did. Tonight she was Cinderella, and she dreaded anything shattering her fantasy. “Is the brougham ready?” she asked.
“Yes. Bob has agreed to drive us so you needn’t worry about soiling your gloves.”
Merissa felt a twinge of irritation. She hated the way Bob drove. He was too slow, too cautious. But Elizabeth did have a point. Ladies did not drive themselves. If they were to carry off this masquerade successfully, she must keep to her role.
~ ~ ~
Lord and Lady Chester,” Ginter intoned as the middle-aged but still vigorous marquess and his petite, dark-haired wife entered the ballroom. Devon moved to greet his guests, but Christian remained by the punch bowl, nursing his brandy.
The arrival of the London crowd was making him decidedly edgy. Although he had encouraged this gathering, he now wondered at the soundness of the idea. Did he really want to be faced with these reminders of his past, especially with Merissa Cassell in attendance?
His uneasiness deepened as a statuesque blonde entered a step or two behind the Chesters. “Lady Diana Fortescue,” the butler announced. Christian saw Devon hesitate a second, then move to greet the new arrival.
As he leaned down to kiss the lady’s hand, she moved very close and whispered something in Devon’s ear. He straightened so quickly, Christian almost laughed aloud. Lady Diana was up to her old tricks. Did she really imagine that she could seduce happily married Devon?
Christian’s laughter died on his lips as Diana spied him across the room. She approached slowly, allowing him to take in the full impact of her extremely tight, very low-cut gown. Christian felt a chill down his spine. Good heavens, he was Diana’s target!
“My lord,” Diana gushed, “what a surprise to find you here. I hardly imagined to find someone like you at a quaint country party.”
“You know Devon and I are good friends. I’m simply visiting for a time.”
Diana’s delicate brows arched upward. “It’s not even hunting season. I cannot imagine what you’ve been doing with yourself” She leaned forward, offering Christian an eyeful of her décolletage. “I must say, I find the Northrups frightfully boring. I would never have consented to come if I hadn’t known you would be here.”
“Given your attitude, I’m surprised they invited you,” Christian said dryly.
Diana moved even closer, brushing her breasts against Christian’s arm. He could swear he felt one of her nipples through his coat sleeve, so thin was her gown. “In truth, they didn’t invite me. I simply came along with Lord and Lady Chester. I knew that Devon was much too well-bred to throw me out, even if he doesn’t want me here.”
“His wife may have less restraint,” Christian warned. For all her refined demeanor, Caroline
Langley had a passionate streak, particularly regarding her husband. He could well imagine her coldly ordering Diana to leave.
“Pooh, she won’t do anything. As long as she knows I’m not after her husband, she won’t have the nerve to make a scene. She’s merely a merchant’s daughter after all. She knows not to offend her betters.”
Christian raised his brows at this comment, but said nothing. Diana Fortescue was a force to be reckoned with in the ton. In truth, very few people were willing to scorn her to her face.
Diana surveyed the room with a bored expression and then said, “I can tell it’s going to be a frightfully dull evening.” She regarded him with slitted cat eyes. “Why don’t you and I slip away and find some other means of entertaining ourselves?”
“The party’s scarcely begun, Diana. It would be most improper.”
“Exactly.”
She laid a milk-white, bejeweled hand on his chest, and slowly trailed it downward. Christian caught her wrist as her teasing fingers reached the buttons of his light blue pantaloons. “You may not care whom you shock, but Devon’s a friend, and his opinion matters to me.”
Diana pulled her hand away. “Very well, but I shall expect you to make it up to me later. I would not have come if I had not heard some deliciously naughty tales regarding you and another lady.” She leaned over and gave his ear a little nip, then whispered, “Honoria sends her best.”
Diana sashayed off, laughing softly, and Christian breathed a sigh of relief. Thank heavens the Cassell sisters had not arrived while Diana was fondling him. In truth, he found her behavior most distasteful. He really had no desire to go to bed with someone who acted so crudely!
The thought surprised him. When had he become so fastidious about his bedpartners?
When you met Merissa Cassell, was the answer that popped into mind. Since spending time with that bedeviling woman, he had begun to view the world altogether differently. Some of his old habits truly seemed disgusting.
She’s really wormed her way into your thoughts, Christian. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking her permission to place wagers!
Even as the nagging thought taunted him, the object of his mental turmoil entered the room.
“The Misses Cassell,” Ginter intoned. While Devon moved forward to meet his guests, Christian could only stare at the transformation. The Merissa Cassell he knew was pretty and appealing, but this woman was beautiful! The upswept coiffure revealed her long, elegant neck and the perfect oval of her face, while the combination of bright pink silk and creamy lace set off her rosy cheeks and dark hair.
And her gown! The bodice, although demurely high-necked, clung to Merissa’s breasts in a way that seemed infinitely more erotic to Christian than Diana Fortescue’s lewdly plunging neckline. His loins tightened and his mouth went dry as he recalled fondling those firm, enticing peaks. Fortunately, Merissa’s nervous, fawn-like expression snapped him from the vivid sexual fantasy and made him recall his duty to give her a proper greeting.
He crossed the room, feeling stiff and tongue-tied.
He bowed first to Elizabeth, noting that she also looked ravishing in a bottle green gown that gilded her hair golden and turned her blue eyes a startling turquoise shade. “Miss Cassell, I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you have come. How did you find the roads?”
“Bob drove us, and we had no trouble at all. It was really very kind of you to ask us. We’ve never been to a house party before,” she added, looking around the ballroom with wide eyes. “And such a beautiful hom
e. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’m certain His Lordship has stayed in much more lavish establishments,” Merissa said in a cool voice. “He probably thinks this is quite the humble little country gathering.”
Christian smiled as he grasped Merissa’s hand and bowed low before touching his lips to her cold fingers. Merissa had assumed her usual quelling manner. But he knew better than to believe it. He’d seen her face when she arrived; she was absolutely terrified.
“Miss Cassell,” he murmured, still holding her hand tightly. “You look... exquisite.” She colored and an uncertain, pleased look crossed her face. “That gown is most becoming.” He allowed his eyes to linger on the swell of her bosom, then raised his glance to hers. She easily caught the turn of his thoughts. Her color deepened even more and she took a quick, shaky breath. He stared at her plump mouth until she began to tremble, then took pity on her and turned back to Elizabeth.
“Come, you must meet our hostess,” he told her. He offered an arm to each of the sisters.
“Lord Northrup seemed rather stern and frightening when he greeted us,” Elizabeth whispered. “I hope his wife is a little friendlier.”
“Oh, that’s merely Devon’s habitual reserve. He doesn’t smile a great deal, but he is no ogre. You should see him playing on the floor with his baby son, acting an utter fool,” Christian told her. “You will find Lady Caroline more than makes up for his reticent nature.”
He led the sisters into a salon off the main ballroom where refreshments were set up. Caroline spied him and immediately left her other guests. -
“Christian, you must introduce me to your darling friends.” She grasped Merissa’s hand. “Devon and I are most beholden to you, not only for rescuing Christian after his accident, but also reminding him that not all women are inclined to swoon at his feet.” She smiled teasingly. “It’s not often that anyone gets the best of Christian. Did you really threaten to leave him to freeze on the road?”
“I would not really have done so,” Merissa answered in a breathless voice. “It was simply that... I lost my temper, you see, and when that happens, I do not always think before I speak.”
Earl of Scandal (London Lords) Page 7