Just Like Magic by Elizabeth Townsend

Author:Elizabeth Townsend [Townsend, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elizabeth Townsend
Published: 2013-07-04T21:00:00+00:00

8

Two Invitations

The Royal Footman bowed deeply, and Stepmama, in her haste to reach the door, nearly tripped over Mon Petit, who was scurrying around her feet, busily waving his plumed tail.

“Your Grace?”

“Yes! Yes, that is me—I—myself—I mean, won’t you come in?”

The footman bowed again. “I thank you, Your Grace, but I must finish delivering the Royal Invitations.”

“I knew it!” shrieked Gerta.

“Hush!” hissed Lucy.

“Invitation, how charming!” babbled my stepmother, grasping at the creamy envelope the footman extended toward her. “I—you must convey to the king how pleased we are—how honored—”

“Indeed, Your Grace.” And the footman bowed again and was gone.

“Perhaps I should have offered him some tea?” Stepmama looked blankly out the door after him.

“Shut the door, Mama! We want to see the invitation!” Gerta was bouncing with excitement. Lucy was acting bored and sophisticated, but I noticed it was her fingers that twitched the envelope out of Stepmama’s fingers. She then opened it maddeningly slowly, glaring at Gerta, who was bobbing at her shoulder to get a look.

“Now, girls!” said Stepmama, feebly trying to retrieve the invitation herself.

“I’ll read it aloud,” said Lucy, holding it away from everyone else. “If you would give me enough room!”

Gerta, scowling, allowed her mother to lead her away. Lucy strolled into the sitting room, read the invitation to herself, and frowned as Gerta whined, “Mama! She’s delaying on purpose!”

“Really, Gerta, it’s only an invitation. Anyone would think you’d never been invited anywhere before,” snapped Lucy. “Here, read it yourself.” She thrust the paper and name cards into Gerta’s snatching hands. I tried to get closer to read it, too, but Gerta pulled away, her lips moving as she read. “Well, for heaven’s sake, why was she invited?” she said hotly.

“My feelings precisely,” said Lucy, glaring at me.

Stepmama pulled the invitation away from Gerta and read, “‘Their Royal Majesties would be honored…ball on the twenty-eighth of October, nine o’clock in the evening—’”

“But look who the cards are addressed to!” wailed Gerta.

Stepmama peered at the names. “‘Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Derham, Lady Lucinda Stenleigh, Lady Gertrude Stenleigh, and Miss Merton.’ Well, my dears, I see nothing wrong. Did they misspell your names?” She handed us each our cards.

“They invited Ella!” snapped Lucy.

“Why, so they did,” faltered Stepmama. “I wonder why? Probably because she had been on the list to be presented at court this spring. Of course she wasn’t presented, but—”

“Mama! Since she hasn’t been presented, how could she go to the palace now?” Gerta was pink in the face.

“But if she was invited, my dears,” Stepmama protested weakly, “oughtn’t she to go?”

“It must have been a mistake,” said Lucy swiftly. “They must have used the wrong list!”

“Do you really think so?” Stepmama’s brow wrinkled.

“It would be ridiculous if she went!” said Lucy, being careful not to look at me. “She hasn’t been presented! She wouldn’t know how to behave!”

“And she hasn’t anything to wear!” added Gerta.

“But none of you have anything to wear,” said Stepmama plaintively. “For a ball at the palace we

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