“Agreed.” Lucas asserted. “Then let us lift our glasses to the final battle… May the stags prove their merit and emerge victorious.”
Lucas watched as the brother’s all lifted their glasses and drank.” To the stags.”
“May the hags rot.”
“MOTHER HAS TAKEN LEAVE of all of her senses.” Sara threw her hands up as she entered the parlor. Stomping in the most unladylike way, she flopped into a chaise lounge and sighed dramatically.
“Oh?” Meredith asked politely, wondering just what happened this time to make her youngest sister take to theatrics. Sharing an amused glance with Louisa, her second youngest sister, they simply waited for the show to begin.
“Don’t give me those looks.” Sara opened one eye and glared before rising and stealing a biscuit from the tea tray.
“Please, help yourself.” Louisa spoke with amused sarcasm.
Sara narrowed her eyes and with an annoyed grin reached out and took four more biscuits.
“So…” Meredith encouraged, curious as to what was causing their sister’s dither.
“One word,” Sara spoke, biscuit crumbs on her lips. “Wingham.”
“No.” Louisa drew out the word then shared another look with Meredith, this one not so merry.
“Yes.” Sara nodded vigorously and then stuffed an entire biscuit in her mouth as if eating would solve the problem.
“Wingham as in…?” Meredith asked, her blood starting to grow hot with simmering anger.
Sara nodded, her mouth too full to form words.
“Damn and blast.” Louisa swore.
“Louisa!” Meredith scolded, though only because she knew she ought to, not because she didn’t share the sentiment. Sara’s eyes were wide as tea saucers.
“It’s not as if you haven’t heard it before.” Louisa shook her head. “And it’s not as if the words are not entirely appropriate for the situation.”
“Be that as it may… perhaps we don’t fully understand…” Meredith turned to Sara. “Do you have any more details?”
Sara swallowed, held up a finger and then took Meredith’s teacup. After taking a long sip, she sat back down. “I was heading down to ask Father for some pin money for this lovely hat on Bond street, it’s beautiful with this pale blue that is all the rage this season—”
“Get to the point,” Louisa interrupted.
Sara glared. “Father was in his study, and the door was closed. So before I knocked I listened to make sure he was alone, and I heard him and mother talking about Christmas.” She took a deep breath. “They accepted an invitation to the Wingham House for a week-long house party.”
“House party,” Louisa repeated.
“Yes.”
“As in more than our family.”
“Yes.”
“It’s official. Our parents hate us.” Louisa stood and stomped about the room. “Do they not remember the last time we left the Wingham House? Our hair was black with ink and we had to cut it all off! It was nothing but the miraculous grace of God that the short French hair cut was so vogue! We would have been laughed out of every London Ballroom if not for that!”
“Exactly! Which is why I barged into Daddy’s office and told him that we simply could not attend.” Sara nodded once and took a sip of tea.
“Oh, dear.” Meredith closed her eyes. “What did Father say?”
Sara mumbled quietly, “Something about him already accepting the invitation and for us to finally have the chance to prove we are ladies, not hoydens.”
“It was not our fault,” Louisa ground out.
“I hate them.” Sara glared at her last biscuit then bit it. ”Them… not our parents,” she clarified with her mouth full.
“When is Christmas?” Meredith asked, her mind spinning as she tried to solidify a plan. Heaven only knew what the frogs were planning. It was a war that had started before they were out of leading strings, but one that had raged for over a decade, the war between the princesses and the frogs.
They were the princesses; the Mayford brothers were the frogs. Of course she could think of a thousand more horrific names for them now, but at the tender age of seven the worst name a girl could imagine was frog. Add to that their obsession with the fairy tale of the princess and the frog, and the picture was complete.
“Christmastide is in two weeks,” Louisa answered.
“Two weeks… we can do this, ladies.” Meredith stood, straightened her shoulders. “It might be their house, but we know it better than they do. We will create a plan of both defense and offence so that we are never caught unawares. And hopefully…” She took a deep breath. “We will not need to use any of the warfare, perhaps we can simply be ladies and gentlemen—”
Louisa snorted.
Sara rolled her eyes and ate the last bit of biscuit.
“Hope springs eternal,” Meredith said in a beleaguered tone. “Regardless, we will not cower, nor will we run.”
“To the princesses!” Sara lifted the teacup and stood.
“The princesses!” Louisa repeated, a fierce gleam in her eye.
“May the frogs all croak!” they shouted together.
TAMING THE EARL
By Kristin Vayden
CHAPTER ONE