Fallen Angel by Charlotte Louise Dolan Page B

several years, all her evening gowns were old and out of style, and the colors were likewise quite drab. Nothing she owned was elegant enough to dazzle Lord Sherington, and she found that she very much wanted to impress him.
    In a daring move, she went to her sister’s room, hoping to find some discarded dress that could be made over. They were of the same height, so that would be no problem, and even though Petronella was possessed of a much fuller figure, taking in a garment was always possible, where letting it out would not have been.
    At the very back of Petronella’s wardrobe Verity found an absolutely stunning gold gown trimmed with bronze, which her sister had not worn in two years, but which with a few simple alterations would not look too dated. Carrying it back to her own room, she quickly tried it on.
    The neckline gaped open, but a few tucks should fix that. When she looked at herself in the cheval glass, however, Verity knew that she could never wear such a gown, no matter how high or low the neckline.
    The dress was indeed elegant, but all it did was make her appear even more colorless and insignificant than usual. She looked, in a word, like a sparrow trying to wear a peacock’s tail.
    Unable to look at her reflection any longer, Verity changed back into her regular dress. She had really no choice but to wear her gray silk, but perhaps she could at least persuade one of the maids to help her change the ribbons? And she could wear her grandmother’s pearls, which would bring her comfort even if they did not turn her into a ravishing beauty.
    That evening, while they were waiting for Lord Sherington to arrive, Verity caught sight of herself and her sister in the mirror. The contrast between the two of them was so great that no one would have ever taken them for sisters.
    Decked out with the Wasteney emeralds, Petronella was more eye-catching than ever before, whereas Verity had to admit that she herself looked exactly like what Lord Sherington had accused her of being—a nondescript, easily overlooked, extraneous female. In other words, a poor relation.
    But even while she was coming to that conclusion, Lord Sherington was announced, and Verity once again felt her self-confidence soar. Since she had no looks, he must find something to admire about her character. Or perhaps he, too, felt there was a bond between them?
    At times like this, when he caught her eye from across the room, it seemed as if he did. And yet at other times it was obvious he was only trying to manipulate her.
    Straightforward coercion she did not mind in the slightest. In general Lord Sherington made no effort to disguise the fact that he was not a man who concerned himself overly much with the wishes of the people around him, and she was perfectly content when he was snapping at her for something she had said or berating her for something she had done or simply ordering her to do his bidding.
    But every now and then he seemed to be trying to disguise his true nature from her, although it seemed absurd of him to expect her to be taken in by a few token efforts to consider her wishes.
    Indeed, absurd was the only word to describe his behavior. Since he was a man who was obviously accustomed to taking whatever he wanted from life, and since it was equally obvious that she was unable to tell him no, why on earth should he ever feel constrained to play the part of a proper English gentleman around her?
    The singing was magnificent, but the attention they were receiving from the other boxes was making this evening an ordeal for Verity. Still, she was doing her best to emulate Lord Sherington and ignore the rude stares and pointing fingers of the other opera-goers, and she could only wish her relatives would do the same.
    Antoinette had been left home with a sore throat, which had distressed her mother no end. But unfortunately Petronella’s motherly concern did not demand that she stay home to nurse her only child. Seated between Lord