Cinderella's Phantom Prince ; Beauty's Mirror

by Jenni James

  “Stop!” Adeline pushed her away, but not before Coralie grabbed a handful of her stylish hair.

  “I will not stop until you remember your place!”

  Adeline shoved her then, hard. The girl stumbled backwards maybe six or eight feet to land upon her backside in the grass.

  “How dare you?” Coralie raged.

  “How dare you?” Adeline pointed to her ruined gown. “I am a particular guest here. This treatment of me will not be tolerated.”

  Coralie rushed to get to her feet, but Adeline beat her to it and slammed her back into the ground. “Stay where you are. If you are lucky, I will not have you tossed out on your ear for your lack of manners. I have had enough of the treatment your family has bestowed upon me. Be gone! And make very certain I never see your face again.”

  Coralie did not move, but had no problem voicing her last opinion before Adeline turned and left her upon the grass to stew. “You will see my face again. Several times. When my mother hears of this—”

  Adeline returned to the castle—unfortunately, in greater agitation than when she had stepped into the gardens.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

  Adeline gathered her tattered gown and pushed open the servant’s entrance to the castle. She ducked her head and flew past the bustling kitchen and back into the Mrs. Humphries rooms. Then to her great horror, she felt the first sting of tears erupt. How could Coralie be so cruel?

  “Adeline, dear. Whatever is wrong? What happened to you?”

  “Coralie,” was all she managed to say.

  “Your stepsister?” Mrs. Humphries set her knitting aside, stood up, and walked over to her. “Did she do this to you?”

  Adeline sighed and wiped her eyes. “She thought I had stolen the gown and was angry at me.”

  “Goodness!” The older woman walked around her. “She did a fair amount of damage.”

  “Forgive me. I should never have walked out on the castle grounds. I should have known something like this would happen.”

  “And how would you have known? You could not have. I forgot that you have cultivated some jealous enemies who are living under this roof still.” She tsked at the gown and then simply said, “Well, it looks as though we shall need to create something even more grand.”

  “Create a ball gown at this late hour? Should I not just wear one of the other frocks you have gotten me?”

  The housekeeper laughed. “My dear, when it is about to be announced at a ball that you are the intended of German royalty, you must make an impression.”

  Adeline closed her eyes. There was no talking around the older woman. She would do whatever it was she wished to do, and no one would stop her. “Very well. But how will we accomplish such a thing?”

  Mrs. Humphries gave her an odd look. “The same way I made all the rest of the gowns. Magic, of course.”

  “You made the gowns? But I thought …”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Oh, never mind.”

  * * *

  Adeline waited for Adrian in the blue drawing room before stepping together into the ballroom. Her gown was a glorious white with rows and rows of shimmering fabric. It completely outshone the other dress. She felt like a fairy princess and could not wait to get a glimpse of her intended. Mrs. Humphries had announced the moment he returned and then shuffled him off to a room to wash and change before Adeline got a glimpse of him.

  He was here. He had come back. And she would see him soon. Never had she felt more eagerness to be reunited. Never had she felt as though she were living someone else’s life. She could not imagine all of this becoming true, that she was actually allowed to marry the man she loved.

  When he entered in his royal glory, he took her breath away. Tall, handsome in his courtly attire—newer modern attire that she was certain Mrs. Humphries made for him. Oh, how could this wonderful being be truly hers? Could it be possible? Could he really love her as he claimed?

  She hesitated as a bout of anxiety overcame her, but then he was standing there, holding her hands and saying all the right things to remind her heart to beat again. All she needed to hear, all she did hear was, “I love you. I have missed you. Let us never be apart that many days again.” And then she was in his arms and his mouth met hers and suddenly, her world was forever perfect again.

  Adeline felt herself glowing with joy as she walked into the ballroom on the arm of the incredible man. Everyone tittered to a stop as Lady Middlesong’s butler announced the cousin of Prince Adrian as Adeline’s intended to the crowd. More things would have been said, more niceties and customs and greetings, but Adrian had no wish for any of it.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I have waited days to dance with you, and I will not put off doing so another moment. Hang the lot of them, but you are mine.”

  Adeline could not have agreed more and giggled as he nodded his head to the conductor while practically pushing her through the throng. And then he twirled her into the center of the marble floor. When the music began again, he expertly led her around the room. Not in sets, or groups as the other couples were doing—but romantically, perfectly, just the two of them.

  At one point, they stopped to allow a couple to cross their path to join another set forming. Marianna glared at Adeline as she went by. Adeline sighed. “Do not worry overly much. That was my stepsister. I doubt either of them are happy with me at the moment.”

  “No.” He grinned. “And they will not be for some time.”

  Curious, she glanced up. “And what do you mean by that? Were you able to secure my inheritance? Is it as you feared?”

  “That and more. So much more.” He tucked her in closer to his chest and whispered near her ear. “Let me say that neither of them will be ripping up your dresses ever again.”

  She gasped. “Did Mrs. Humphries tell you?”

  “Yes. And it was a pity, as I was willing to talk it over with you and allow them to live on a smallish property of mine in Germany. However, after this evening’s episode, I am in a right mind to deny them any living space whatsoever. Let them wander from friend to friend and be at the mercy of those who care for them.”

  “I do not know how they will survive.”

  Adrian glanced over at Marianna’s retreating back. “Neither do I, nor do I care. For someone who has spent thousands of pounds of your inheritance whilst dressing you in rags and treating you as a servant and then attacking you in the gardens, they deserve no such special behavior. No kind words, no grace shown unto them. They do not care for my dearest intended. Therefore, they are no friends of mine.”

  Adeline winced, picturing how horrible such treatment for them would be. “I cannot imagine it.”

  He brushed a curl from her forehead. “The best part about such imaginings is that you do not have to. Not anymore. From here on out, you will imagine your life as you wish it. I will give you the world.”

  A slow warmth crept over her until it covered every inch of her body. “I think I will like that.”

  “Good.” He winked and then kissed her nose. “Now, how do you feel about a German honeymoon? I fear there are some family members of mine who will be desperate to see us both.”

  “I do not think anything has ever sounded more wonderful in my life.”

  “Do you like Germany, then?”

  “Oh, I love it! ’Tis the most beautiful place on earth.”

  He kissed her again. “Then you would not mind having dozens of children sprawling around my castles?”

  “Dozens? I am not sure I would like dozens. Perhaps twelve at the most, but—”

  He laughed. “And you have not said anything about living in Germany. Nothing. So I assume you are perfectly happy with that?”

  “Yes. Perfectly so.”

  He picked her up and twirled her around the ballroom, to the shocked gasps of those around her. “Wonderful! I never did like those pompous British aristocrats anyway!”

  And neither had she.

  Together they grew a beautiful fami
ly, nestled in the tops of the evergreen German mountains, and found out the truth of how delightful the world could be if one was actually and inexplicably in love.

  The End

  Jenni James is the busy mother of ten kids and has over thirty published book babies. She's an award-winning, bestselling author who works full time from home and dreams about magical things and then writes about what she dreams. Some of her works include the Jane Austen Diaries (Pride & Popularity, Emmalee, Persuaded...), the Jenni James Faerie Tale Collection (Cinderella, Snow White, Rumplestiltskin, Beauty and the Beast...), the Andy & Annie series for children, Revitalizing Jane: Drowning, My Paranormal Life, Not Cinderella's Type, and the Austen in Love series. When she isn't writing up a storm, she’s chasing her kids around their new cottage and farm in Fountain Green, entertaining friends at home, or kissing her amazingly hunky hubby. Her life is full of laughter, crazy, and sunshine.

  You can follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

  She loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her through email at authorjennijames@gmail.com

  Jenni James

  PO Box 449

  Fountain Green, UT 84632

  Beauty’s Mirror

  by Rose Fairbanks

  Dedication

  To all those who believe love is magical.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you, Zoe and Leenie, for professional hand-holding. A special thanks to my husband for waiting, even as I write this, for me to finish after I claimed “Just another minute!” about three years ago when I began writing my first story. Thirteen books and counting later, and he knows I may be at this awhile and he should make dinner. Thank you to my children, Teddy and Annie, who taught me the true meaning of selfless love and have a never-ending supply of belly laughs and kisses.

  Table of Contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Prologue

  “You’re a monster, Erroll! You never loved me!”

  “Celia, come down from there. Be reasonable,” Leonard Sundridge, third duke of Erroll, called up to his deranged wife. Her behavior had become increasingly erratic since the birth of her child less than two years ago. She now stood on the railing of the master staircase of his ancestral home. If she slipped, her death would be immediate.

  “Tell me I’m wrong!”

  “You’re wrong,” Leo said as calmly as he could.

  She immediately smiled, but he was lying, of course. Love had nothing to do with their marriage. She married him to become a duchess, and he married her because of her political connections. Now, however, he would lie on his father’s grave to end the scene unfolding. The problem, however, was that this scene unfolded nearly daily, Celia’s demands ever increasing and unattainable.

  “Then you’ll let me go to Desmond’s dinner?”

  “Anything you want. Just come down,” Leo pleaded.

  Lady Erroll obliged. As her bare feet touched the plush carpet, she suddenly looked every inch the regal duchess Leo married two years ago. Holding her head high, she walked off to ready herself for her lover’s dinner.

  After the first incident, Leo had stood rooted in place, panting for breath and trembling with fear, anger, and embarrassment as servants swirled around him to clean up the mess of broken vases her tantrum had caused. This time, he turned and walked steadily to his study. After arriving, he pulled the servant bell, and his housekeeper appeared a moment later.

  “Your Grace?”

  “Tell your husband to do it tonight, Mrs. Potter.”

  “As you wish,” she said, and dropped a curtsy.

  “I will depend on your discretion,” Leo said before she left.

  Sitting in his favorite chair before the fire, he stared at it, too numb to allow any thought. In a short time, Leo’s valet, Potter, arrived. The well-trained servant’s feet were whisper quiet on the Aubusson rug. His figure cast shadows around the dark, wood-covered walls.

  “Are you certain this is the best way?”

  “I will not become a laughing piece,” Leo said through gritted teeth. Family honor had been beaten into him, and he would not be the weak link. “Send her to the place you found and make quick work of it. You contacted Desmond?”

  “Yes. He agreed that Her Grace seemed unstable, and he would weather the storm of an alleged elopement.”

  “Then do it tonight.” Leo expected Potter to turn obediently, but the man hesitated.

  “But the child?”

  “Did Desmond confirm when their affair began?”

  The blush that crept over Potter’s face was confirmation enough. The beautiful baby that now lay in the nursery was impossible to be his. It was proof of Celia’s deceit long before her mental unbalance. Now he had an admission from the father and could sue for divorce if he desired. But again, he did not wish to look too much a fool.

  “The child shall stay. There is nothing to be done for it, but Celia will never see her. As far as Rosalyn will know, her mother died.”

  Potter said nothing, but his disapproval dripped off his frame.

  “You’re excused,” Leo said.

  Some would call him cruel for sending away his mad, adulterous wife, but he would do far more to ensure the clout of the Sundridge legacy. To steel his conscience, he poured himself a drink and welcomed the dull burn down his throat. A moment later, he fell to the ground and did not awaken until he felt flames leap all around him and heard a maniacal laugh.

  “I knew you lied, Erroll,” Celia said through gritted teeth. Her voice, low and brittle, sent a tingle up his spine. “I knew you didn’t love me. Couldn’t love me. That is why I aimed to hurt you with my unfaithfulness.”

  Groggily, Leo pushed up on his arms and could make out his wife standing in the door frame with a bundle in her arms.

  “Wanted to make my Rosie think I was dead? Keep me from my child?”

  “Celia, help me,” he pleaded. He had no command of his legs.

  “The joke was on me. You are incapable of love! There’s no human heart in you! A beast you are, just like your father!”

  Rage built in Leo’s chest as he heard the familiar accusations. His mother had said those words to him in the cradle more than she had ever sung to him.

  “Then you will kill me?” he asked hollowly. He nearly welcomed it.

  “Kill you? That would be too easy! I’ve cursed you! You shall walk this earth with an empty, hollow heart, never being loved.”

  Ignoring his wife’s words, Leo sought an exit. He had been hesitant to feel fatherly toward the child now crooked in Celia’s arms, but the smoke in the room was getting thicker and surely even harder for Rosalyn to breathe through. Feeling crept back into his legs.

  “You neglected me, Erroll. Neglected me, and I learned. I have powers you would not believe.”

  She was right. He paid no heed to her lunatic words. He focused all his energy on garnering the strength to move.

  “You are cursed to be unloved! If you have not found true love by my Rosie’s sixth birthday—three times as long as our marriage—you will die. And you shall be called a fool, looked on with pity and despised,” she rambled on.

  Holding on to the anger the image of him becoming such provoked, he stood to his feet. With a loud roar, he charged toward his wife just as the ceiling came crashing down on them.

  * * *

  Arabella Beauley shaded her eyes as she approached her home after a summer stroll. The setting sun was blinding from this angle, but at last, she mounted the hill, and the tall structure of her family’s house blocked the sun. At certain times of day, the sun reflected off the many windows of the mansion. As a child, Bella’s mother had regaled her with fanciful stories of the house being made of diamonds. The stories talked of magic and fairies. As
she aged, she put aside the tales that oversimplified the power of love and happiness.

  Her father came from a prosperous merchant family. Generations ago, one of them bought a Scottish barony and built the house. A century ago, the family lost precedence when the Act of Union with England occurred. Scottish baronies now held little pride of place, but her family clung to the title distinguishing them from their common neighbors.

  A servant paced the entrance. Her eyes scanned, undoubtedly, for Bella.

  “Sarah, what is it?”

  “Oh, miss! Come quick! It’s the mistress!”

  Bella rushed past the maid, who called after her. “In her chambers, miss!”

  Taking the stairs at an unladylike speed, Bella reached her mother’s room in a matter of seconds. Heart pounding, she opened the door without knocking.

  “Mama!”

  Then Bella stopped in her tracks. Her father hugged her two younger sisters in the corner, and her brother stared at the fire. Why was everyone so quiet and still? Why wasn’t anyone doing something?

  There were rumors of magical herbs growing near their house, including a legend of an orange plant from the Americas that bloomed high on a rocky cliff. Bella had walked past the very path on her way home. She could go and retrieve it now. Never mind that the lore also said only one who had attempted the climb had survived, and the sun was rapidly disappearing.

  “Here, child.” The housekeeper took her by the arm and led her to her mother’s bed. Lady Beauley’s face was pale and her breathing was shallow. Scrutinizing her mother’s form, Bella noticed that her mother’s stomach no longer appeared rounded with child.

  “The baby?” she asked as tears welled in her eyes.

  “Too early,” the housekeeper said. “She never had a chance.”

  “Mama?” Bella whispered as she took her mother’s ice-cold hand in hers. She did not expect her mother to say a thing. It was all too clear that she had only minutes to live.