Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells

by Jessica Woodard

  ***

  The hedge maze had been cultivated from boxwood shrubs, and overgrown with purple bougainvillea, turning the pathways into small, perfumed bowers. At each corner was placed a lantern, giving enough light to navigate, but leaving much of the hedge maze in shadows. With only one turn they were out of sight of the thronging crowds, and Ella slipped her shoes off, stepping into the cold, damp grass. As her head dropped a full three inches lower, Max laughed.

  “No wonder you couldn’t dance in those things, they’re practically as tall as you are.”

  “Pretty, though,” Ella held them up for inspection, “but you’re right, it’s amazing I managed to walk in the front door. Be a gentleman and carry them for me.” As a bemused Max let her shove the slippers into his hands, she turned and began pacing through the maze, hands clasped tightly in front of her. Max moved to walk beside her. Having safely occupied his hands, and taken care of her own, she felt they might have a chance to actually speak, for once. Now that the moment had come, however, she felt awkward and unsure. What would he say? After a moment he broke the silence.

  “When your family arrived without you I thought you weren’t coming.”

  “I wasn’t going to. I didn’t have a costume.”

  “Where did this come from, then?” Max indicated her gown with an admiring look.

  “In theory it was my mother’s, but I almost believe my Godmother magicked it up out of thin air.”

  “Then I am grateful to her.” Max stopped, unsure of how to go on, but Ella didn’t say anything. The mention of her Godmother had reminded her of the Dame’s advice. She wasn’t going to talk. She was going to listen. It seemed to take forever, but he finally spoke.

  “Ella, do you want anything more out of life?” When she looked at him quizzically he rushed on. “I know you love your shop, and your work is really… It’s brilliant. And if all you want to do with your life is make beautiful clothes than you probably have a bright future ahead. But I was wondering… I mean, I was hoping… “ He stopped and sighed, then started again.

  “I have this crazy story to tell you. All week long I’ve been trying to figure out the right words, the right way to tell you… And now we’re standing here and I still don’t know what to say, or how to start. I swear that I will find the words—I will. But I just need to know, before I bumble my way into a story I don’t know how to tell… Is your shop all you have room for in your life? Or do you think, perhaps, you might find room for me, as well?”

  Ella wished she hadn’t occupied his hands, because then she could have rushed into his arms. Maybe it was for the best, though, that they use words, just this once.

  “Max, look at me.” Ella unclasped her hands and gestured towards herself. “I’m standing here in my mother’s wedding dress, and I find that all I can think about is whether, someday, I will be able to wear one of these as I stand next to you. I love my shop, and I love my work, but I find, I think, that I love you more.” She lightly brushed his face with one gloved hand. “Tell me what is going on, please.”

  Max dropped her shoes on the grass. Grabbing her hand he drew her into a corner of the maze and laid his mouth across hers, putting his heart and soul into that kiss. Ella let herself melt against his side. He would tell her. They had the whole maze to stroll, and all night, if that’s what it took. For now she slid her hands into his hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss. Whatever he told her, she believed now, everything would be fine.

  A roar came from outside the maze. “Wellesley!”

  Max stiffened, and lifted his head. “Damn.”

  “Wellesley!”

  Ella looked at him quizzically. Max made himself meet her gaze. Never looking away, he called back to the enraged man pacing along the outer hedge.

  “Your Majesty?”

  Max watched Ella’s face as the knowledge fell into place, and her eyes widened with horror, and then narrowed in anger. He kept his focus on the woman in his arms, who was trembling with rage, even as he listened to the king bellow.

  “Get back into the ballroom this instant! I want a word with you!”

  Max heard the king stride off, and then the soft shuffling that must have been the entire court following him back inside. He was going to be in such trouble. For the moment, though, he couldn’t think about that.

  “Ella?”

  “Lord Wellesley.”

  He winced. “Ella, don’t.”

  “Don’t what? My. Lord.” She spit the words out.

  “I told you I had a crazy story, you just didn’t realize how crazy it was.”

  The words of Dame Merriweather came floating back to her. Listen. She would listen. And then she would kill him.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m not really engaged!” Max blurted out the words. “Vivienne and I wouldn’t actually marry each other even if there was a royal decree commanding it. Which, I guess, technically, there is…” Ella glared at him, and he stopped. “Right, stay on topic. Vivienne is trying to go find out what happened to her mother, but the king won’t let her leave the city, much less the kingdom. She came up with this idiotic plan to escape… Ah, this is taking too long!” They were nearing the end of the maze, and he was no where near the end of the story. “It’s a plot by the princess to get out of the kingdom. Tonight. Before midnight. But that’s all. She’s my best friend so I’m helping her. Nothing more.” Ella’s face remained stony.

  “Ella, I didn’t know I would meet you—I was just doing a favor for a friend. And when I did meet you, I thought… I thought we could be friends. I didn’t know…” He trailed off. Ella was stalking along beside him, saying nothing, and they had reached the strolling lawn. Ahead, at the doors of the ballroom, he could see members of the court, and standing in the doorway, the king and…

  “Vivienne!”

  Ella checked her forward motion to glare at him. “I thought she was escaping.”

  “She was. Something must have gone wrong. If this has all been for nothing…” Forgetting for just a moment the royal displeasure awaiting him Max glared at his life long friend. She glared right back at him. Great. Now he had two women glaring at him.

  Ella thought furiously. If Max was telling the truth—and as livid as she was, she didn’t actually think he was lying to her—then she was fairly sure that she knew what had gone wrong with the escape plan. Someone must have run to find her highness when Max and Ella walked off together. Ella was still angry, but now she felt wretched, too. Max said the princess wanted to find out what happened to her mother, and Ella felt overwhelming sympathy for her. If Ella was partially to blame for ruining Princess Vivienne’s plans then Ella was going to help salvage them.

  If she could only figure out how.

  She looked up at the crowd awaiting them. Most of the nobles were whispering to each other, and casting glances at her—some scornful, some maliciously gleeful. The king was obviously in a towering fury, and the princess… she looked like someone about to give in to pure panic.

  Then the bells tolled the half hour.

  It goaded Ella, and—inspired by the looks being given her by the peers of the realm—an idea came to her. She could get Princess Vivienne out of this, but her good name would be gone forever. Ella closed her eyes for a brief second, and bid farewell to her reputation.

  Max watched in astonishment as Ella’s demeanor… morphed. Gone was the angry stalk and the glaring eye. Instead Ella moved with a languid grace, and the look on her face, well… She moved along beside him, giving the impression of caressing him without ever actually touching him. Max wasn’t sure how this was going to help, but the display was… impressive.

  “Wellesley!”

  “Your Majesty?”

  “Could you kindly explain to my daughter what you were doing in the hedge maze with this bit of fluff? I’ve had her fetched here for that very purpose.”

  Ah. That explained the glare. Vivienne was suppose to be riding out of the stables right now, and had obviously been
waylaid by her father’s summons. Which was his fault. Max wished he could take just a minute to go beat his head against a wall. Instead he faced the king.

  “Your Majesty…”

  “Your Majesty.” Ella interrupted with a deep and respectful bow, which she immediately followed by an insultingly shallow head bob towards Vivienne. “Your Highness. I’m sure Lord Wellesley didn’t intend to upset anyone. He was simply feeling overwhelmed by the ball, and asked if I would help him escape.” She cast a pointed glance towards Vivienne, who suddenly froze. Max hoped everyone would attribute it to the supposed insult Ella had just delivered, and not the hope he could see blooming in the princess’s eyes.

  “And who are you,” she finally asked in a choked voice, “to offer him your aid?”

  “Just a friend, your highness. A good friend.” Ella was practically purring, and Max winced at the growing rage he saw in the king’s face.

  “And here I thought you were just a low class trouble maker.” Vivienne’s voice was scornful, and for a moment Ella stiffened. Max saw her eyes flash, and wondered if she had truly taken offense.

  “I’m sure I don’t understand what your highness is talking about.” Max couldn’t believe such polite words could sound so insolent. Ella had clearly missed her calling. “I would never want to cause a rift between yourself and Lord Wellesley. I was merely keeping him company while he sought to distance himself from this mob.”

  Ella ran her eyes over the assembled court. She hoped Vivienne was understanding her hints. The princess was going to have to take the next step, and Ella wasn’t sure she could be any more blatant.

  “Of course you were. I only question what type of company you could possibly be.” Princess Vivienne’s voice was filled with quiet venom, and as she spoke she stalked slowly towards Ella. “After all, you are nothing but a vulgar, predatory, opportunistic doxy…”

  “Vivienne Bellicia, that is enough.” The king spoke. He was clearly just as angry as his daughter pretended to be, but uncomfortable with this public display. “You may continue this conversation in private.”

  “Yes, yes of course, father, you’re quite right. Lord Wellesley, would you and your,” her voice dripped disdain, “friend, come with me? I think we need to chat. Alone.” That last was added as several members of the court moved as though to accompany the princess and her fiancé. All three of them moved off from the crowd, but the king was only a step behind. Vivienne dropped back. “Father, no. I want to talk to this woman in private.”

  “My dear, do you think that’s wise?”

  Vivienne gestured to her three guards, still trailing her.

  “What are you worried about, Father? I’m well protected. But, to tell you the truth,” she stopped and gazed at Ella with menace, “I think I’ll be taking care of this all by myself.”

  Wonderful. Now all the members of the court were going to be imagining Vivienne and Ella rolling in the mud, pulling each other’s hair out. Max sighed and followed them as Vivienne latched on to Ella’s wrist and sped off.

  ***

  Max carefully shut the door to Vivienne’s rooms behind the three of them. As amusing as it had been to watch Vivienne “drag” Ella half the length of the palace, he wished none of this was happening. He turned in time to see Vivienne gently release Ella’s wrist, and both women straighten into more normal attitudes.

  “What, no cat fight?” They both turned to glare at him.

  “I think not.” Vivienne spoke crisply, but it was clear she was very angry with him. Ella said nothing at all, merely turned away and addressed the princess.

  “Your Highness, let’s get you to your horse, you haven’t got much time.”

  Vivienne stared at her. “I didn’t think you really meant it.”

  “I assure you, I do.”

  “Ella, if I go now…”

  “If you go now, my situation will be exactly the same, but you will have a better one. If you stay here you and Max will find yourselves hustled off to the altar post haste, and I doubt either of you wants that.”

  “But I could lessen the…”

  Ella sighed. “You could.”

  “Then why would you help me leave?”

  Ella thought for a moment, then looked Vivienne in the eye. “Because, this isn’t your fault. And someone should have a happy ending.”

  Both women blinked hard. Then the princess called to her maid.

  “Lottie! I need you!”

  The serving woman came bustling in with Vivienne’s riding habit draped over her arm, while the princess started untying her dressing gown. “Max, face the wall if you would.” When Lottie stepped forward to help the princess with her riding habit, Ella took it from her.

  “Here, I can do that. You go fetch the rest of her highness’s things.”

  The maid looked at Ella. “You’re a good one, aren’t you? A shame you went and fell for that dunderhead.” She nodded at Max as she went and grabbed a small satchel from the corner.

  “I can hear you, you know.” Max spoke wryly to Lottie.

  “Really, Max, is this any time to be defending yourself?” Vivienne’s voice was muffled as she pulled the thin woolen blouse over her head. “You have been monumentally stupid. We all agree. Get over it.” Ella helped her into the jacket, quilted for warmth and lined with lamb’s wool. “Don’t button me up just yet, I’ll swelter until I’m out in the open air. Lottie…”

  The maid waved her silent. “I know, Highness. Once you’re gone I should lock the door and claim you’ve given orders not to be disturbed. When they find you’re gone I should be just as shocked as anyone.” She looked at the princess fondly. “I’ll be fine. You just be careful, and come home when you’ve solved your mystery. Now scoot, before those bells start ringing.”

  Vivienne kissed her cheek and then took a deep breath. “Alright then, I guess this is it. Max, lead the way to the stables. And for goodness sake, don’t be seen.”

  All three guards nodded as they passed through the doorway.

  “Your highness, aren’t they coming with you?” Ella was confused.

  “They’ll be staying here until the change of the guard, then they’ll ride out to meet me. This way everyone will think I’m in my room.”

  Ella saw the sense in that, but she thought it would have been easier to make their way through the palace with more lookouts. At each juncture in the corridors Max checked for people strolling the hallways of the palace. Ella and Vivienne darted behind him, trying to stay in easy reach of a hiding place in case Max saw anyone. They had no choice when it came to the Hall of Portraits—there were no alcoves or shadowed corners, and they had to pass through. All three sprinted down the long corridor, praying their luck would hold. They made it to the far end and tumbled out the door, but Max immediately turned and shoved both the ladies back into the hall and shut the door behind them.

  “Wellesley! What are you doing in this wing?”

  Ella looked quizzically at Vivienne. The princess mouthed quietly, “Lord Fartreth. He’s drunk.”

  “I was looking for you, my lord.”

  “For me? Why ever would you be looking for me?” Lord Fartreth and Max were both muted by the door, but Ella could hear them clearly.

  “The king wished for your presence, my lord, but had no page handy. I volunteered to look for you.”

  “Good of you, man.”

  Ella saw the knob on the door turn, and heard Vivienne gasp. They both crowded away from the door, but there was nowhere for them to hide.

  “Not that way!” Max’s voice was strangled.

  “What are you saying, Wellesley? The ballroom’s this way.”

  “Yes, my lord, but…” Ella and Vivienne held their breath, hoping Max could convince him. “But the king wishes to meet you on the croquet lawn.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He said something about a midnight game.”

  “Frightfully clever man, our monarch. That will be splendid.”

  “So, you see
, you wouldn’t want to go through the Hall of Portraits.”

  “Indeed. Be a silly way to go. Thanks very much, Wellesley.”

  His footsteps tromped off, and then Max opened the door again.

  “He’s going to be wandering the croquet lawn for hours, looking for the king. Let’s go.”

  Moments later they slipped into the stable door, leaving it cracked behind them. Ella kept a lookout by the open door while Max loaded up the saddle bags and checked over the tack. At the last moment Vivienne dug a piece of paper out of the bottom of her bag, and scratched a hasty note on it. Handing it to Max she gave him one final glower. Then she threw her arms around him and squeezed. Hard.

  “Max, you are an idiot, but I do love you. Try to stay out of trouble. Give the note to my father when they realize I’m gone; it might help.”

  Max held his oldest friend. “I’m sorry I almost ruined everything. You’re right, I’ve always been an idiot. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you around to tell me so.”

  Vivienne whispered. “Perhaps you can find someone else who’s interested in the job.” They both looked over at Ella.

  “I don’t know, Vivi, I may have ruined that, as well.”

  “You give up too easily.”

  “Go on, your Royal Meddlesome-ness; just go. I’ll have to figure out my own mistakes, from now on.”

  Vivienne dashed tears from her eyes, then turned. “Ella,” she looked for a moment at the seamstress, and then hugged her, too, although more gently, “thank you. I wish I could help in some way.”

  Ella wiped her own eyes, and gave a small smile. “Write me a letter sometime. Tell me about your life of freedom and adventure.”

  “I will.”

  Vivienne mounted up, and when Max gave the all-clear she rode out of the stable. Max and Ella watched her head for the riding paths that led towards the northern hunting grounds, and then the darkness swallowed her up. The bells began to sound, ringing the midnight hour out across the city, and for a moment they were both silent, listening. Then Max looked at Ella.