Darby’s eyes widened and his face turned a dark red. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. Everything began to make sense now. “You put a spell on that chicken. That’s why I saw tiny sparkling stars right before the chicken was startled.”
Darby giggled with his hand over his mouth. “I could tell the boy wasn’t learning anything, so I decided to help out.”
Not knowing whether to become upset—or laugh—Chris bit his bottom lip and shook his head. He counted to ten under his breath before scolding his friend. “Darby, you promised...”
“I know, I know. But really, it was worth it, wasn’t it?”
Chris didn’t want to answer that. “But you said you would be on your best behavior.”
“And not only that,” Darby continued as if he didn’t hear Chris, “you caught Miss Parker from falling in the mud. Now she will think you are gallant.”
“Oh, good grief!” Chris realized why his friend really wanted to come along. “Darby, don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t try to match us together like you did Rosanna. Miss Parker is just like Miss Townley. Water and oil do not mix, so just leave well enough alone.”
“Yes, Chris.” Darby ducked his head.
When Chris reached the wagon, Miss Parker waited for him to assist her up before Billy climbed up next to her. The boy sat with his arms folded smartly across his chest as he turned his attention away. Chris waited until Darby was in the back before he urged the horses forward.
Chris shook his head, wondering if Billy would ever learn. Maybe Chris would never get through to him. But really, it wasn’t the schoolteacher’s responsibility to mold a child into a nice person. That fell to the child’s parents.
As he drove the wagon, he glanced at Miss Parker whose gaze had dropped to her fancy boots, now mucked with dirt.
She noticed Chris looking and frowned. “I suppose I shouldn’t have worn this pair of boots to a farm.”
He grinned. “Your boots will be as good as new as soon as I clean them.”
Her eyes widened. “You? Clean them?”
“Why not?” He shrugged. “I was the one who dragged you to a place you weren’t used to being.”
“I must say, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He blinked. “Are you jesting? Nobody has done anything nice for you? Ever?”
“Well, nobody has ever offered to clean my boots, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Thank you.” She smiled.
He stopped the wagon in front of their house, and then helped Miss Parker down. He enjoyed the way her eyes stayed on him. He shouldn’t feel this way about her, but she interested him more than he wanted to admit. He didn’t need to get his heart involved with this woman only because he knew she’d turn out like Rosanna. Yet, when earlier, Billy had said her name—Ella—the rhythm of Chris’s heart sped faster. How could he not think that way about her now?
“Leave your boots on the porch and I’ll collect them after school today.” He turned to Billy. “Do you want to ride with me to school?”
The boy jumped out of the back and shot Chris a heated glare. “No. I need to change my clothes. I stink!”
Chris tried not to laugh, but his sister chuckled as Billy ran into the house. She placed her gloved hand on Chris’s arm.
“Thank you for your concern. I fear Billy will be a handful for a few more years, but this morning has taught him—and me—a lesson in humility. A lesson I shall never forget.”
“Well, Miss Parker, I can’t be lenient with Billy when he misbehaves in my class. I hope you understand.”
“I do.”
He bowed slightly and tipped his hat. “I’ll bid you good day then. I have a class to get ready for in an hour.”
“Yes, you do.” She smiled brightly. “And I hope you have a pleasant day.” She looked toward Darby. “And Mr. O’Brian. Perhaps one day I can get to know you better.”
Darby’s head snapped up, his eyes wide in shock.
As Chris watched her walk into her house, he shook his head slowly. It surprised him that she even spoke to Darby. Most people just ignored him.
Grinning, he climbed in the vehicle and took them back home. He felt today’s lesson was good for both Miss Parker and her brother. But more than anything, Chris couldn’t stop thinking about the twinkle in Ella’s eyes when she had gazed at him.
It was quite nice to be looked upon as a human being instead of a lowlife miscreant. Perhaps, in some small way, Darby’s little spell on the chicken had made Chris appear gallant in her eyes. Dare he hope?
SIX
“Lady Spencer?” Farley entered the parlor, his steps nervous, cautious.
Rodmilla glared at the mousy servant. She supposed getting angry with him for interrupting her reading time was unnecessary, but her nerves had been frayed ever since she’d hired the tracker to find Ella and Billy. Apparently, the tracker’s meaning of the word quickly was different than her meaning. She didn’t have the patience to wait, and yet that was all she could do. Fernand wouldn’t marry her any other way.
“What do you want, Farley?” she snapped.
“Your secretary is here to meet with you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “My secretary?”
“Well, um...your late husband’s secretary, Mr. Woods.”
Slowly, she straightened in her chair, letting the opened book fall to her lap. What was he doing here? The last time they’d spoken had been right after Henry’s death. Mr. Woods had assured her that everything was taken care of regarding Henry’s will. Why then, was he here?
“Show him into the parlor. I’ll meet him there.”
“Yes, milady.” Farley bowed and hurried out of the room.
Her thoughts swirled with possibilities for the visit, adding to her confusion. She stood and smoothed out the wrinkles in her gray dress. The book dropped to the floor with a muffled thud. She ignored it since other matters were on her mind. Hopefully, Mr. Woods found something in the will that would give her more money. Thanks to Ella, Rodmilla was almost out of funds, and without appearing too desperate in front of Fernand, she needed something to keep her comfortable as she waited to wed.
She didn’t want to appear as if she hurried into the parlor, but her steps were faster than usual. When she entered the room, Mr. Woods stood and bowed slightly. The pudgy man looked as if he had gained more weight since she saw him last.
“Lady Spencer, forgive me for dropping in on you unexpectedly, but I realized just this morning how important this matter was to discuss with you.”
“I have to admit, Mr. Woods, I was surprised to hear you had come. What is this urgent matter? The last we spoke, you had assured me Henry’s will had been taken care of.”
“Indeed it had at the time, milady.” He opened his satchel and pulled out some papers. “But Henry’s daughter, Ella, will be having her twenty-fifth birthday very soon, and so it’s time to get things ready for that.”
Rodmilla rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be jesting. Henry had actually mentioned Ella’s birthday party in his will?” She flipped her hand, walked to her favorite chair, and sat. “For some reason, Mr. Woods, I’m having a hard time believing Henry would do such a frivolous thing.”
“Oh, but it’s not frivolous at all.” He shook his head and walked toward her. “Right here in his will, he states that once Ella reaches her twenty-fifth birthday, that she’ll receive her inheritance.”
Rodmilla wanted to laugh, but held it in. What money could that girl possibly get when Henry’s wealth was almost depleted? “Well, I’m quite certain Ella’s inheritance isn’t worth worrying over.”
“Forgive me, milady, but you’re wrong. Miss Ella will receive three-quarters of her father’s holdings.”
Anger sparked inside Rodmilla. Stupid fool! That girl doesn’t deserve that much of Henry’s money. But at least it was almost gone anyway. “Well, I understand that, but
since my late husband’s money is nearly depleted, I don’t see how Ella could claim anything.”
Mr. Woods shook his head. “But her inheritance isn’t gone. You see, after his death, three-quarters of his wealth was locked away until his daughter reached her twenty-fifth year.”
Gasping, Rodmilla jumped out of her chair. “His money was locked away, you say? Augh! How could you hide his money like that when I needed it?”
The older man’s face whitened and he slowly shook his head. “But, milady, the money wasn’t for you. It was for Ella and her brother, which was why it had been locked away.”
The spark of anger within was now a full-blown flame, threatening to ignite her very explosive temper. Frustration boiled up from within. She wanted to grab something—or someone—and squeeze. Mr. Woods’ neck looked tempting, but it was much too large to wrap her fingers around.
She quickly tried to calm herself so she could think sensibly. How could she convince this dimwit to turn the money over to her, instead? “Yes, I understand the money is for Ella and Billy, however I’m still their stepmother, and I’m still in charge of them. I need the money to raise them, you know.”
The chubby man’s gaze narrowed on her. “You are still raising them? I had heard a rumor that they were living with their maternal grandmother, now.”
Bunching her hands into fists, she tried to keep her temper from exploding anymore. “No, you must have misunderstood. You see, the children had gone to their grandmother’s house to visit, but I’m still raising them.”
“They are back?” he asked.
“Not at the moment, but they will be back any day.”
“Oh, I see.” He smiled and shoved the papers back in his satchel. “When Miss Ella returns home, please have someone send me a missive to let me know and I’ll bring these papers back for Ella to sign.”
He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm. “Wait! I’m their stepmother—Ella’s guardian. Shouldn’t I be able to sign those papers?”
Mr. Woods frowned. “I’m sorry, milady, your late husband only wanted Ella to sign them.”
“So there is no way I could get even a little of this money?”
He shook his head. “Only if Ella—and her brother—were to meet up with an accident and die, milady. If that sad and fateful day does happen, then the money will be turned over to you. So please let me know when she returns so we can complete this matter.” He bowed and took his leave.
Hatred for Ella churned deep inside Rodmilla, deeper than it had ever been before. That girl was ruining her life! It had irritated Rodmilla beyond the point of reason when Henry doted on his only daughter...as if she were a princess. He’d always put Ella first, even before his own wife...and now, he had managed to put Ella first from beyond the grave!
A low growl escaped through Rodmilla’s clenched teeth.
Well no more would that slip of a girl come first! Henry was dead, and Rodmilla was in charge. Ella would not get another shilling of his money.
Letting out a scream, she marched out of the room and toward the front door. “Farley, get my carriage ready immediately!”
“Aye, milady.” The servant scampered out of the house as if his feet were on fire.
She rushed up to her room, donned her hat and collected her cloak before sprinting downstairs as if she sprouted wings. Once she made it to her waiting carriage, she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor of the vehicle as she snapped out the instructions to her destination. The coach lurched and was soon on its way.
There was only one person who could help her now—the wizard who had assisted her when she’d chosen to marry Henry. Fomazz had assured Rodmilla that Henry would fall madly in love with her and marry her. Unfortunately, Fomazz couldn’t assure her that Rodmilla would be the only woman in his life. Especially when Ella took that title.
Growling, she gripped the edges of her cloak. She needed to convince Fomazz to give her another potion...one that would help her find Ella and her imbecile brother, and bring them home! The man she’d hired not too long ago wasn’t fast enough. She needed someone else—someone who would work well under a spell—someone who was simple-minded and easily affected.
She rolled her eyes. Most of the people she knew were guileless. She would give the potion to her horse if she knew it would bring those brats back to her quickly.
Hopefully, along with the potion, Fomazz would be able to point her in the direction to where she could find her new mindless subject. Rodmilla would do whatever it took to find Ella and Billy and bring them back here where they belonged...under her guidance.
The trip to the wizard’s pitiful home deep in the forest took longer than she’d wanted, but once the carriage had stopped, she jumped down and hurried toward the old man’s tiny house. As she neared the dwelling, the door swung open. A thin stoop-shouldered man met her at the doorstep. His white, bushy eyebrows hung so low they nearly covered his eyes. His leathery face had more creases and cracks than her alligator-skinned handbag.
“Rodmilla,” he said, his voice an eerie sound in the sudden silence of the forest. “What brings you my way?”
“I need another potion.” She spoke softly, not wanting her driver to overhear. “There is an urgent matter that needs my attention, and you are the only one I can trust to help me.”
His cagey gaze switched between her and the driver, who remained several feet away, still sitting atop the carriage.
“Me dearie.” He lifted a bushy eyebrow. “As you know, my magic does not come free.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know. What do you want?”
Each deliberate tap of his finger against his pointy chin made Rodmilla want to scream. Leave it to the old man to take his time just to irritate her. But she had no choice but to wait until he was ready. She couldn’t push his genius mind.
Slowly, a smile stretched across his elastic skin. “I’ve decided what I want. There is something of Miss Ella’s that’s considered a family heirloom. Get it from her when she returns home. If you don’t, I shall remove the spell we put upon you many years ago—and every man who looks upon you will see the ugly woman you really are.”
ELLA SAT IN THE PARLOR and stared out the window as she twirled the gold locket’s chain around her finger. Although she hated waking up so early in the morning, she realized how her day didn’t pass as quickly as it usually did. She had more time to do things now. And, more time to think about Mr. Morgan.
Perhaps that wasn’t a good thing. She had never allowed herself to enjoy a man’s company. Not since her father was alive, but even back then none of the men who courted her made her feel such strange emotions. There was one who’d tried—but he failed. Miserably. Now she was grateful she had never had feelings for Robert Lane.
Ella tore her gaze away from the window and looked down at the letters she’d been trying to write for an hour now. If only she could focus. But after writing two lines, her morning with Mr. Morgan disturbed her again.
When he had caught her from falling into the mud, and she stared into his deep gray eyes while he held her so tenderly...
She shook away the distraction. There was no way she could think that way about her brother’s schoolteacher.
Blowing out a gush of air from between her lips, she adjusted in her chair and studied the letter to her maternal grandmother. Although this letter would never reach the true destination since she’d set up a fake address, it needed to appear as if she corresponded with her grandmother, because certain people who were involved with her life now would wonder about her missing father. This was to put off any questions people might have.
Dear Grandmother, I hope Father has come to visit you. He’s been there for a few months now, but he’s been too busy to answer my letters. If you do see him, please tell him how much Billy and I miss him. Tell him to hurry home.
She reread what she’d written and tears swam in her eyes. She had no family, except Billy. Their mother died when Billy was very young, and even though her fat
her remarried Rodmilla, Ella could never consider that woman a mother. Her father didn’t see it, but Rodmilla was an extremely cruel person.
And their grandmother—the one Ella had used as their last name—had been gone three years. Ella couldn’t rely on anyone but herself. She was the only one who could protect her brother.
Sighing heavily, she leaned back in her chair. Her twenty-fifth birthday was coming quickly. According to her father’s will, when she turned twenty-five, she would inherit three-quarters of his money and land and be in charge of her brother’s share until he turned eighteen. Currently, Rodmilla had control over all of that, but in four months, Ella would not have to worry about that evil woman ever again.
In all of this time, had her stepmother tried to find Ella and Billy? Did the woman even know about her father’s will? Most definitely, if Rodmilla knew about the will’s stipulation, that woman would move every rock, tree, or house, just to find Ella and Billy.
She pushed the letter to her grandmother aside and glanced over the one she’d drafted for her father.
Dearest Father. I hope you can conclude your business quickly. Both Billy and I miss you terribly. He has been in trouble in school quite a bit, and I fear it’s only going to become worse until you return to us.
She sighed. This would have to do as well. She didn’t know what else to write. As long as these letters made curious people believe that her family was still alive...that’s all she wanted.
Rebecca, the kitchen maid, walked into the parlor carrying a tray of food. “Miss, would you be hungry for some lunch now?”
Ella smiled. “Yes, I would. Please put the tray on the table.”
Rebecca did as instructed, then left.
Ella’s favorite soup had been made, and the aroma of potato and cheese with chunks of ham lifted to her nose, making her stomach grumble. She moved from the desk to the table and started to eat. Just as she finished the last bite, the butler Hobbs walked in.
“Excuse me, Miss, but Mr. Prescott is here to see you.”
Ella’s heart dropped. Mr. Prescott would undoubtedly want to know when her father would return—an answer she could not give. How much longer could she keep lying to this man and putting him off?
Keep on Believing Page 6
