Ella: A Novel

by Jessilyn Stewart Peaslee

  With an unexpected indescribable joy, followed by a tiny twinge of guilt for feeling that joy, I realized I was now the lady of the house.

  Nothing changed. The cupboards didn’t magically fill with food. The cow wasn’t automatically milked by anyone. No one gathered the eggs or weeded the garden. The banister wasn’t sanded or repainted. The furniture that had been sold didn’t miraculously reappear. Breakfast wouldn’t be waiting for me on the table in the morning. My violin wasn’t returned, and my hair didn’t grow back. But I finally felt at home in my home.

  I promised myself that I would move back to my old room the next day. But tonight, I would sleep. I pulled off my shimmering dress and replaced it with my tattered nightgown. I hung up my beautiful gown and examined it closely, looking for any signs of dirt or tears from my frantic and desperate escape from the palace. There was a tear on the right side that I could mend, and there were smudges of dirt around the hem that I was sure I could get out. It was still breathtakingly beautiful—smudges and tears and all.

  I stepped back from my gown and ran my fingers through my short hair, surprised that I didn’t even have any tangles; it was too short. “It will grow,” the prince had said about my hair. Why had this bothered me so much? I couldn’t even remember now.

  I looked out the east window and saw that there was no smoke coming from Will’s chimney. He must still be at the palace, caring for the guests’ carriages. I hoped I would see him soon so I could thank him for all that he had done for me tonight. I hadn’t even seen him or heard from him after I went to meet the prince.

  It felt like a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime ago.

  My eyes drooped and I swayed slightly. I shuffled over to the west window that overlooked the palace. It still blazed with light and I realized that the ball was still going on. It made me tired just thinking about it.

  I yawned and walked away from the window. As I lowered my body down onto my blanket, an unexpected sob racked my body. I clutched my pillow that quickly became wet with hot tears and my breaths came in labored gasps. I wanted someone to hold me. I wanted to lay my head on someone’s lap and have them caress my hair and brush the tears from my cheeks and help me make sense of everything that had happened.

  I wanted my mother.

  Instead, I wrapped my arms around me, trying to give myself the comfort and strength I needed. I was so exhausted. I was grieving—for more things than I even knew or understood. I felt myself drifting out of consciousness as my tears slowed and my pillow became cold and damp. I reached for my other blanket and covered me, tucking it under my feet, one of them sheathed in glass.

  Refining Fire

  Chapter 26

  THE BRIGHT SUNLIGHT STREAMING IN MY WINDOW AND onto my face alerted me to the fact that I had slept in. I sat up with a gasp and ran to the window. The sun was high above my head. I had never slept so late in my life! Lucy must be miserable! Victoria would be irate! Why hadn’t she come to punish me for my slothfulness?

  Without bothering to dress, I raced down the long staircase, down the long main hall, and stopped dead in front of Victoria’s door. I grasped the doorframe as I gawked at the bedroom. The bed was empty and the sheets had been removed and folded at the foot of the bed.

  I had never been so disoriented in my life. Every morning I knew exactly where I was. I did my chores without complaining or wondering why. I was always acutely aware of my situation in life and had come to accept it like breathing.

  My world had changed so much in one week—in one evening. I clutched onto the doorframe as I tried to comprehend it all. I reached up to touch my chopped off hair and it helped to bring me back to reality. Victoria was dead. Mabel and Cecelia were gone. Will could still be at the palace. The prince had passionately and unequivocally professed his love for me last night.

  And I was alone.

  Lucy! She needed to be milked. I ran down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door. I threw open the barn door and was already trying to soothe the poor cow. I hoped my voice would help to calm her down before I actually tried touching her. But she wasn’t there.

  I ran to the barn doors, made sure no one was around, and dashed out to the pasture. There she was, innocently munching on the grass; the gate was closed behind her.

  Had I milked her and taken her out and closed the gate in my sleep? I wouldn’t be surprised. I ran to the chicken coop. Mary was sleeping soundly in her house, no eggs to be gathered. I ran back to the house and into the kitchen. In my haste to take care of Lucy, I hadn’t seen that there were two jugs of milk on the floor and one egg sitting in a bowl on the table.

  Tears filled my eyes when I realized who would have done this. Will. He had sacrificed everything for me. He had made sure I went to the ball. He had kept me safe from Victoria. He had danced with me. He had come here this morning and had taken care of my chores for me and then left quietly.

  My thoughts unexpectedly turned to the prince. He had held my hand and looked passionately into my eyes. He had kissed me. I had kissed him. He knew everything about me, but hadn’t pushed me away. In fact, it was only after I had told him everything that he had declared his love for me. He had offered me a life of luxury: a carefree life of ease and tranquility. He had offered me gold and jewels.

  So why did a milked cow and a single egg touch my heart and bring tears to my eyes?

  Because they had required sacrifice. They had required thoughtfulness. They had required love.

  Will loved me.

  My breath caught in my throat and my hand covered my mouth, as if keeping me from saying the words out loud. I instantly felt vain for entertaining such a notion, but immediately that feeling fled and the truth of it flowed from the top of my head to the tips of my bare toes. Will loved me.

  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. I thought of everything he had done for me, everything he had sacrificed and given. Every time he had made me laugh or comforted me when I wanted to crawl into a pit and never come out. His love had strengthened me, but I hadn’t recognized it for what it was.

  I laughed to myself, standing all alone in my kitchen, bewildered by my blindness. I wanted to run to him, to tell him … what? That he loved me? Would I tell him I loved him too? Did I know how to love? Did I know how to be loved?

  I had known once.

  With a small smile on my lips and a skip in my step, I stored the milk and cooked and ate my little egg. I tried in vain to control my unruly thoughts as I ate. What would it be like when I saw Will again? Would it be awkward? I didn’t know what to do about this new knowledge of Will’s feelings; I just knew I wanted to see him. He had never actually told me he loved me, but he had shown me, I was sure of it. The prince had told me he loved me. Had he shown me he loved me?

  I thought for a moment about the time I had shared with the prince. It had been a lovely evening, for a little while, one that I would remember for the rest of my life. The prince had been witty and charming and romantic. I wondered how long he had looked for me after I so rudely ran away before he went to spend the rest of the evening with some other girl. I shook my head at this thought. He may have seemed reckless and impulsive, but he was not insincere. I had believed every word he said. I just didn’t know how I felt about them.

  It didn’t matter now. He didn’t know who I was or where to find me. It was futile even thinking about it. It had been a lovely evening, but now it was over.

  I examined my immaculate kitchen. It was a very large kitchen, once used to prepare fine banquets for dozens of people. Now, there was just me, and I suddenly felt very small.

  I left the kitchen, not bothering to do any of the work that needed to be done in it, and walked to the formal dining room. I remembered the huge mahogany table that used to stretch from end to end and how I used to play underneath it as a child. We would have large dinner parties and every seat would be filled with kind, laughing people. Father would be the life of the party—making jokes, telling stories, playing the vio
lin, and making everyone feel at home.

  I left the dining room and climbed up the wide staircase. I felt along the banister and the fading paint flaked off under my touch. At the top of the stairs, I stood again in the doorway of Victoria’s dim room. Suddenly, I was overcome with the desire to throw open the curtains. I ran to the window and opened them wide and turned around to see if it had made a dent in the gloom. It was as if it had been set free and the charm and pleasantness of the room had returned. I would no longer dread entering this room. I picked up the neatly folded sheets on my way out so I could wash them.

  I reached the end of the hall and opened the door and climbed the stairs to my tower. I noticed the squeaky fifth step and was careful not to slide my hand along the splintery wood of the banister. I opened the door at the top and walked into my tidy little bedroom. I looked out the window that faced east, where the sun would rise. It had always so kindly awoken me on those extra sleepy mornings when I had failed to wake before dawn, so that I could get my chores done and prepare breakfast before Victoria awoke. Today, it had been kind to me again and had let me get some desperately needed rest. Ever since I was young, I had always felt like the sun was watching out for me.

  I looked at the tops of the huge trees that had been there for hundreds of years. They had always been comforting to me. They were the same trees that had surrounded Ashfield since it had been called Rosewood, and I felt that they knew me and my history. One of the most comforting things in those woods was the smoke that rose from Will’s chimney, reminding me that I had a friend in this world.

  I turned back to my little room that had been a safe haven for me. A place where no one could tell me what to do or punish me for things I had done or hadn’t done. It had been my own private corner of the house where I had felt at home. Now that feeling radiated out of the room to fill every other corner of Ashfield.

  It was time to live my own life now.

  Chapter 27

  I GOT TO WORK MOVING MY FEW BELONGINGS DOWN TO MY old bedroom—my hairbrush, some underclothing, a chipped water basin, a few blankets. My glass slipper had fallen off my foot in my sleep and I placed it back into its little blue box. I took the box and my gown and placed them in my own room—not in a crate, not under the floor.

  I washed the clothes my stepsisters had left behind, grateful for the new additions to my own wardrobe. My poor gray dress was ready to retire. But my “new” clothes still had to dry and then be taken in, so it would have to last one more day.

  I was upstairs, scrubbing Victoria’s bedroom floor when the front door opened with a deafening crash.

  “Ella!” Will cried.

  I stared in the direction of the door, too stunned to move, my hands gripping the scrub brush. My heart started racing in my chest, but I didn’t know if it was because I was suddenly nervous to see him or because he sounded like he was in pain.

  I heard muffled footsteps and then my name being called again, this time desperation tinted his tone. I jumped up and wiped my hands on my dress and ran out of the room. He had left the foyer and I could hear him coming back into the house from the back door.

  “Ella,” he said again. This time he didn’t call for me. He simply stated it in what sounded like despair.

  I stood at the top of the stairs and watched him emerge from the doorway of the dining room. It was the first time I’d seen him since my revelation that he loved me. What if I had been wrong? I felt flustered and shy all of a sudden, not being able to find my voice. I wanted to thank him for all of his help, but somehow couldn’t find the words. But the desperation in his voice erased my self-consciousness and replaced it with concern.

  “Will?”

  His head shot up and he gazed at me in disbelief.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. I ran down the steps and stopped a few feet away from him.

  “You’re here?” he whispered.

  “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?” I laughed lightly. He must be exhausted. “You need to go home and rest. First, let me get you something to eat. I need to thank you for helping me this …” I started to walk toward the kitchen, but his hand grabbed mine. Without a word, he sat down on the bottom step, and pulled me to sit down next to him.

  He looked at me for a moment, his lips pursed in thought. “Ella, I assume you’ve been home all day?” He sounded more than merely curious.

  I nodded. “Yes. I have had so much to get done here.” I paused, not sure how he’d take the next thing I had to say. “Victoria died last night,” I muttered.

  “Pity,” he said with a smile.

  I understood his reaction—he had seen me hurt at her hand countless times and had felt helpless against it for years. He had seen my whip marks, my cheeks stained from tears, and even the way I hung my head after being in her presence.

  “Will, something happened to me last night,” I began. I didn’t quite know how to say it.

  He nodded solemnly. “At the ball?” he guessed. I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about the ball. There were too many dreams and nightmares mingled in one memory.

  “No, I mean with Victoria. Will, as she lay dying, I saw her for the first time. Really saw her. All her walls were down, whether she wanted them to be or not. She simply didn’t have the strength to keep them up anymore. She was frail and weak and vulnerable, like she finally needed someone to care for her and could admit it. Her daughters had said good-bye and didn’t shed a tear for her. It … it broke my heart. Truly broke it. I forgave her. She squeezed my hand.” My voice trembled.

  Will’s familiar look of wonder returned again as he listened to me. “The prince doesn’t deserve you. No one deserves you.”

  “The prince? What are you talking about? I was just telling you about something that happened to me, that’s all.” I tried to sound casual, but there was a note of defensiveness in my voice.

  “That’s my point. You allowed it to happen to you. You let yourself forgive. That doesn’t just happen.”

  There was something else bothering him; I could see it. He must have seen the questions in my eyes because he pursed his lips again and thought for a moment. “Well, Ella. It seems that you made quite an impression on the prince last night.”

  I wanted to look away to hide the blush that crept onto my cheeks, but I didn’t want to look guilty. “Oh? How do you know that?” My voice was an octave too high to sound nonchalant.

  “Well, it’s all over the kingdom that the prince fell in love last night.” Will was looking more penetratingly at me than he ever had. I dropped my eyes and looked at the stones beneath my feet.

  “Oh?” I said again. I wasn’t even fooling myself. I sounded utterly guilty. “He fell in love?”

  “Love,” Will repeated the word as if it were repulsive to him.

  I was desperate to change the topic of conversation. “Why were you looking for me?”

  He searched my eyes for a moment in somber silence. “Ella,” he said softly. “Did you lose a slipper last night?”

  “Yes!” I exclaimed. “Did someone find it? I thought I’d never see …” My voice trailed off at the expression on his face.

  “Yes, someone found it. The prince,” Will said. I knew there was more to it than that, but he seemed to want an explanation of why and how my shoe had come off my foot—my mother’s shoe that Will knew I loved.

  “Yes, I lost my shoe.” I sighed, knowing he deserved the truth, but it didn’t make it any easier to say. “The prince told me he loved me last night. He proposed. He … he kissed me.” I paused, my face burning so hot I thought I would burst into flames. Why did it have to be Will I told all of this to?

  “Hmm. So he proposed and your shoe fell off?” I could hear a smile in his voice, though I couldn’t meet his eyes to see if I was right.

  I laughed. “No. I … I ran away and his guards chased me and I lost my shoe. I didn’t even stop to pick it up,” I ended with sadness.

  Will deliberated again and grimaced. “Ella, abo
ut your shoe … The prince went looking to find the owner of that glass slipper and when he does … he’s going to marry her.”

  “What! How is he going to do that?” I cried.

  “He is already doing it. He started early this morning, going from house to house, trying the glass slipper on each and every maiden in the kingdom.”

  “But … but what if it fits more than one person?” I asked.

  “That’s a very good question,” Will answered.

  I was trying desperately to grasp the enormity of what Will had said. “Will, is that why you were looking for me? To see if the slipper fit me?”

  He nodded slowly. I could tell there was something else he wasn’t saying. He stood slowly off the step and reached out his hand and I put mine in his. He gently pulled me up to face him and wrapped his arm around me, more to steady me than to embrace me. “Word is out all over the kingdom,” he whispered. “The slipper fit someone and the prince is taking her to the palace as we speak. I thought you were gone.”

  Chapter 28

  I WAITED FOR THE GRIEF AND INJUSTICE TO CRUSH ME. I waited for tears and the anger and the sadness. But nothing came. I didn’t feel numb; I didn’t feel the pain that would make me want to feel numb.

  I wondered if my lack of distress was because I had already figured I had lost the prince the night before. I had fled from him—impolitely and improperly, yet willingly—without really knowing the reason why. Or perhaps it was because the prince had already found someone else, and that gave me the freedom to do the same.

  It made sense for me to be disappointed. It made sense for me to be upset. But the only thought I could grasp at was the concern that I would never get to see my slipper again. What good was one without the other—for me or for the girl the other slipper fit? I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Why was I worried about such a seemingly trivial thing?

  I looked up at Will’s face and saw that he had been studying mine intently. “Ella, tell me what you’re thinking. You don’t seem upset. Don’t act calm just because I’m here. It won’t hurt my feelings if you’re disappointed.” He said the words sincerely, but I heard a hint of doubt in his voice. “He’s the prince. I understand that. He could have given you everything.”