Cinders in the Waves

by A R Pridgen

  Although the contents of his letters were brief Spade always addressed and signed off his letters the same way.

  To my Ace,

  We made stops up the coast and picked up spices, textiles, and furs.

  We off loaded silk at the port. Moving East across the sea next. Twenty more months.

  Truly Yours,

  Spade

  That was it. To my Ace. X more months. Truly yours. Those simple words sent a thrill down Eleanors soul every time and was better encouragement than the countdown calendar she kept hidden in the gardeners shed.

  So continued Eleanor's life. Her clothes became even more ragged.

  Her curls grew back only to be shorn short again. (This time by Lady Prissa who was desperate to cover her own thinning hair) She was browbeaten into becoming a slave in her own house. But each letter counted down the months to the end of Eleanors incarceration so she gritted her teeth and plotted the day she escaped and could take her revenge.

  Until the letters stopped. At first Eleanor was only mildly worried.

  Hiccups happened in trade all the time. Spade knew to prioritize the business. As the month wore on and still no letter Eleanor became more and more concerned. No news was never good news in the trading world. When the news did come it affected them all.

  It came disguised as a knock at the door; late at night. Bizarrely (Or not so bizzare given the Lady’s love of drama) Lady Prissa was the one who answered first. Eleanor came in from the kitchen just as the Lady threw open the door. There, framed by the doorway; backlit by the flickering

  torchlight, was the wharf master flanked by the constable. The wharf master leaned around Lady Prissa to speak to Eleanor directly.

  “I’m deeply sorry Miss.” he choked out. “I’ve just received word.

  Your fathers ship, The Greatest Treasure; was found burned to the waterline.

  We’re not sure what happened but no survivors were found and nothing was salvageable.”

  Lady Prissa’s mouth flapped open and closed like a fish. She turned to face Eleanor and her two daughters who had come up behind her.

  Dolly was the first to speak.

  “What does this mean for us?”

  Lady Prissa shut her mouth with a click. “It means” She whispered hoarsely “We are bankrupt.”

  Polly collapsed to the floor with a wail. Dolly stormed back up the staircase with a murderous look on her face while lady Prissa shut the door in the wharf master's face and joined her daughter on the floor, weeping bitterly.

  For her part Eleanor drifted back into the kitchen. She slumped into the stool placed in front of the fire. ( the same stool she sat on while at her father's side.) She slumped forward and buried her face in her hands but no

  tears would come. The words from Spades last letter circled through her mind. To my Ace. Eleven more months. Truly yours, Spade.

  Chapter five

  Unwelcome guests

  Lady Prissa lost her head completely. Never in a million years did she think her source of income would be cut off and as a result she spent money with reckless abandon. Now her cash cow was resting on the bottom of the ocean with nothing to replace it.

  Lady Prissa decided the only way to end their financial straits was to marry off her daughters. To that end she slaved to make her daughters as eligible as possible. Lady Prissa took out multiple loans in order to dress her girls in the most sumptuous way possible. Parties soon became to new norm in the merchants manor.

  Despite Eleanor and Floras best efforts, servants appeared in the house again to deal with the influx of handsome wealthy men. . Even Dolly and Polly suffered under their mother's eagle eyed attention. Forced to hide their true natures behind a mask when company was around, they became even more snarling and violent in private. They could not even bear each

  other's company anymore. This came as a relief for Eleanor since she was no longer a victim of their joint efforts.

  It was a small comfort to her though. Now that Eleanor had exactly zero monetary value any veneer of civility Lady Prissa may have possessed was gone. She didn’t even waste her breath finishing Eleanor full name, preferring instead to shriek Ella at the top of her Lungs. In Lady Prissa’s eyes, the collapse of her fortune was entirely Eleanor's fault.

  Lady Prissas lavish house parties soon became the talk of the town.

  Men and women alike clamoured for an invitation so they could get a glimpse of the late reclusive Counts’ merchant manor. Lady Prissa in a rare stroke of wisdom brought out all of the rare and unusual collections left behind by Eleanor's father. Instead of selling them though (As would have been the financially prudent thing to do) she placed them on display to give the illusion of continued wealth.

  Lady Prissas parties were lucrative in a way though. The Lady had an inordinate fondness for gambling. It wasn’t that she was particularly lucky at cards though. Instead the Lady Prissa and her Daughters were remarkable card sharps. Eleanor was impressed despite herself as she watched the three women fleece their hapless guests. Eleanor also suspected that the copious

  amounts of wine served at these parties was spike with something that made the drinkers more susceptible. Flora reported that several of her more unsavory herbs had disappeared from her medicine cabinet.

  To tell the truth Eleanor did not really care about the wellbeing of the visitors. The halfwits knew before coming what kind of women Lady Prissa and her daughters were. As far as Eleanor was concerned anyone who entered the house freely of their own will entered at their own risk. No, Eleanor favored the parties for an entirely different reason.

  Parties were opportunities and Eleanor watched them like a hawk. It was only a matter of time before something would come by that she could use. Even though Spade and her crew were out of the picture, Eleanor had not stopped her countdown to freedom. One way or another she was getting out of the hellhole her step mother had created.

  One such opportunity came about in the most curious fashion.

  Eleanor was returning from the garden one late evening during one of the latest parties when she walked in on a man relieving himself on the kitchen fire. Eleanor stood in the doorway, scowling in disgust. “What a limp noodled pig.” She thought acidly. Crossing her arms Eleanor cleared her

  throat. The man finished his business before buttoning up to turn and face her.

  He had a languid smile on his lips. “I apologize for that.” He said breezily. “I would have used the toilet but it was full.”

  “And what stopped you from stepping outside?” Eleanor demanded.

  The man winced and gave her a hangdog look. “But it’s cold outside.” He protested. Then he smiled sheepishly. “Besides it wouldn’t do to have the prince expose himself in public would it?”

  Eleanor arched and eyebrow. The prince chuckled. “I can see that you’re not impressed.” He studied her frankly; his eyes roving up and down her body. Eleanor shifted her weight to balls of her feet and spread them slightly wider. The prince noticed her motion and put his hands up in surrender.

  “Peace! I meant no harm. I’ve simply never met a scullery maid who doesn’t tremble in awe before me.” He grinned crookedly. “Or one so willing to fight me. It’s quite refreshing actually.”

  He lowered his hands and took a step closer. Eleanor didn’t budge.

  The prince stuck his hand out. “The names Mondy.” Eleanor grasped his hand still glowering. “I’m well aware of your name.” Mondy shook his head

  in amusement. “You just don’t care right?” He shifted his grip on her hand and pulled her closer.

  Eleanors heart thumped. Mondy studied her face in the firelight; his thumb rubbing small circles on Eleanors palm. She scowled again and tugged her hand away. Mondy released it, chuckling at her black look.

  “I wish I could meet more people like you.” He confided. “It’s dreadfully boring being a prince.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Eleanor stated drily. The prince laughed outright at that.


  “Well-” he stated wiping tears from his eyes “There are a few perks to being a prince.”

  “Oh?” Eleanor prompted with a yawn. The prince nodded sagely.

  “The ball for one.” he stated matter of factly. Eleanors interest sharpened.

  “And what ball would that be?”

  Mondy smiled smugly. He had her attention now. “The ball where I choose a wife.” he announced grandly. He raised his eyebrows at Eleanor.

  “Perhaps I will see you there?” He asked hopefully.

  Eleanor laughed. “How do you expect me to be there when the ball is restricted to royalty?” She challenged.

  Mondy’s smile collapsed as his brows knit together in thought.

  Something they didn’t seem to do that often. “That does present a problem.”

  He admitted. “I shall have to sleep on it.” With that final pronouncement he flashed a dazzling smile at Eleanor and sauntered back to the party.

  Eleanor collapsed to the stool clutching her chest. She stared at the back of the departing prince. Too close she thought to herself with a shake of her head. But, she mused to herself as she sat back with a self satisfied air.

  It would be intriguing to see where this opportunity led to.

  Eleanor received her answer only a few days later. She was standing in the garden folding the laundry when the post arrived. Lady Prissa was on hand to collect the mail that day. She was swanning past Eleanor, thumbing through the envelopes when she stopped in the driveway. Holding a cream colored invitation to her face Lady Prissa studied it with wide eyes. Then she fainted dead away.

  Eleanor neatly sidestepped the lady’s prone figure and calmly brought her load of dry linens to the kitchen. As she passed the open parlor door she calmly announced “The Lady Prissa has passed out in the driveway.” and continued on her way to the kitchen ignoring the chaos behind her.

  Upon returning to the yard Eleanor was treated to the rare sight of both Dolly and Polly prancing around each other squealing with glee as Lady Prissa woke up spluttering from the stench of smelling salts. She wasted no time recovering though and was soon joining her daughters in their celebration. “Invitations to the princes ball!” Polly crowed.

  “The one where he’ll choose a bride!” Dolly added twirling an imaginary partner. Lady Prissa was the one to say what they were all thinking though.

  “We can get out of this hellhole!”

  Polly screamed even louder at this.

  Eleanor simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the bedding on the lines. Unnoticed in all of the chaos Flora sidled up to Eleanor; hidden from sight by a hanging blanket. “An invitation came for you as well.” she murmured, holding out a cream colored card.

  Eleanor plucked it from Floras hands and scrutinized it. A broad grin crept across her face. An opportunity indeed. Eleanor crumpled the invitation in her fist and stuffed it in her inner pocket. She had some work to do if she was going to be prepared in time.

  Chapter six

  Having a Ball

  Soon the rest of the household caught the urgency of Lady Prissa and her daughters. The ball was two months away but from the way everyone was carrying on it could have been two days away. Lady Prissa, lamenting the lack of time they had to prepare; immediately sent off for three of the most ornate ball gowns money could buy. (Or at least a set of handsome persian rugs that mysteriously disappeared from the bedrooms) She reasoned that since the competition for the princes hand were princesses she needed to make her daughters shine twice as bright without a crown.

  To that end all three women went to drastic lengths to beautify themselves. Full course meals were no longer an option in the house. Dry toast and boiled eggs were the only nutrition considered acceptable for ball preparedness. All windows were kept firmly shut to keep out the sun and it's skin spoiling rays. The most extreme length though was the doctor who was strong armed into coming in once a week with leeches to bleed them of all color.

  When they were not starving or bleeding Dolly and Polly were put through their paces like a horse with dancing lessons. Neither girl was inherently graceful so this was a trial for everyone involved; especially Eleanor and another poor cursed scullery maid who were chosen to be dance partners. (Since the girls could not tolerate each other as a partner) Lady Prissa presided over all of this; directing her troops with a wave of her fan as her voice gradually grew more and more hoarse from her shrieking.

  Eleanor faced the trodden feet and slaps stoically. When Polly screamed at her for being a fat dirty cow, she didn’t flinch. She ignored the bruises left by Dolly who pinched her each time they were paired together.

  When Lady Prissa dismissed the household staff as a way to cut corners leaving Eleanor the brunt of the housework once again, she bore it all quietly. For she knew that the fools primping for the ball had no idea what was coming.

  The day of the ball found both Dolly and Polly purging their breakfast. With no servants left in the house they had no choice but to rely on Eleanor to assist them with their elegant costumes. Not that it bothered any of the ladies of the household since it gave them plenty of opportunity to

  torment her. (If anyone of them noticed how accommodating Eleanor was being though they didn’t say anything.)

  “Why must you insist on dropping cinders everywhere Ella?”

  Dolly snapped as brushed off her impeccable sleeves. Eleanor simply shook out the skirt she was holding out. Polly pushed past Eleanor wearing nothing but her underthings and a bustle. She imperiously held up her arms. She stomped on Eleanors foot to get her attention. Eleanor just grimaced and slipped the skirt over Polly's head.

  Walking in a circle around Polly, Eleanor straightened the folds of the skirt calmly. Nothing the twins could do or say would ruin Eleanors perfect calm. Even when Lady Prissa swanned in; wearing her wig of Eleanor's hair artfully arranged in cascading ringlets (A style that was far too young for the twice widowed woman) Eleanor didn’t react. She had a plan and if was going to work her step family had to be completely left in the dark about what was being plotted behind her blank expression.

  Lady Prissa seized a handful of Eleanors fully regrown hair and yanked on it. “I should have cut this again.” she mused idly, tangling her fingers in Eleanor's hair. “It does make for such beautiful wigs and I’m sure they would fetched a fine price. Something to think about while we’re

  gone.” Eleanor glared as Lady Prissa continued to pull her fingers through her hair, rings snagging on snarls. “It's a shame you weren’t invited to the ball.” She added a cruel glint in her eyes. “All of the most eligible bachelors will be there; with the prince chief among them.” Lady Prissa yanked on her hair again, hard enough to cause Eleanor to stumble. “Maybe if you had a dress you could have gone and begged some poor fool to rescue you from here.”

  Lady Prissa grabbed Eleanors face and lifted it towards her. Eleanor couldn’t help her wince. The lady’s madness burned in her eyes. She leaned forward and hissed “I can’t wait for the day you drop dead just like your father. When my girls are married and my security as a mother in law is guaranteed I’m going to drop you down a hole so deep you’ll never crawl out again.”

  Eleanor couldn’t help but sneer at this. “Not if I push you first.”

  Lady Prissas eyes widened. A split second later she backhanded Eleanor across the face.

  Eleanor crashed into a table. She climbed to her feet a second later, clutching her bleeding cheek. Lady Prissa tossed away the bloodied rings with disgust. “Finish up here.” She snarled. The twins had watched this

  entire exchange silently but with savage glee. Now they sprang back into activity.

  Hours later they were finally ready. Dolly was arrayed in a dramatic deep blue with gold trim and diamond accents while Polly had opted for the pink pearlesque route. Lady Prissa retained her widows black but she was no less regal than her daughters. All three were suitably pale and cinched in as tight as they could go.

  Eleanor stood in
the doorway with a sullen look on her face and watched as they departed. As soon as they turned the corner and were out of sight Eleanor grinned. Turning to the house she cracked her neck. It was time to get to work.

  The first thing Eleanor did was draw a bath. She grabbed the most expensive soaps she could find and dumped them in the steaming water.

  Stripping off the nasty rags that served as her clothes Eleanor stretched before stepping into the water. She ducked under the surface, splashing water everywhere. She scrubbed every inch of her body before combing scented oil through her hair. When she was completely grime free and the water was cool she stood up out of the tub and walked dripping all the way to her father's bedroom. Waiting for her there was a thick stack of fluffy

  towels. Drying herself off Eleanor sat naked and cross legged on the bed and ran a brush through her dripping hair. When her curls were fully dry and springy Eleanor hopped off the bed and crossed to the wardrobe. Opening the doors Eleanor stopped to take in the view in front of her, smiling in satisfaction.

  Sitting in a neat pile was Eleanor's sailing clothes. She had hidden them with her fathers things the day he married Lady Prissa. For all that Lady Prissa had no boundaries she was strangely superstitious. She refused to set foot in Fathers room since he had died in there for fear that he was still haunting it. Instead she had the door locked and forbade anyone from entering the room. As a result Eleanors actual wardrobe was untouched by her stepfamily.

  Reaching inside Eleanor first snagged a pair of stockings and pulled them on over her feet. Next Eleanor sussed out the tightest pair of trousers she owned and tugged them on over her hips. By passing her own blouses (which were now far too small) Eleanor picked out the lightest of her father's shirts and slipped it on over her head, leaving the laces undone. She wrapped a sash tight around her waist. Finally Eleanor fished her tall boots out of the bottom of the wardrobe and pulled them on over her stockinged feet up to

  her knees. Fluffing out her hair Eleanor turned to face the mirror. She grinned smugly. Dressed to kill was the best way to go as far as she was concerned. Clicking her heels together once she strode out of the room.