Disenchanted

by Susan Carroll

  Mal shifted to face me. “I can be a genuine ass sometimes, but I really would do anything for you, Ella. I hoped you would realize that by now.”

  I studied his countenance. Mal could be an ass. He could be so thoughtless, provoking and evasive that I wanted to throttle him. There were also those rare times he let down his guard and was completely open, his sincerity shining through.

  This was one of those moments.

  “Oh, Mal,” I murmured, reaching for his hand.

  “And I do mean anything, including wasting money on tickets for your spoiled, foolish—”

  “No, don’t ruin it,” I said. “Just stop at the part where you would do anything for me.”

  Mal’s lips tipped in a rueful smile, and I smiled back at him. He entwined his fingers through mine.

  “How I have missed you, Ella.”

  “And I, you. So where have you been and what were you doing all this time that you could not even spare a moment for me?”

  “I am sorry I have been so preoccupied.”

  “With what?”

  “I have been kept really busy brewing my Elixir of Love. Word has spread and you would not believe the demand for it. I have sold at least ten dozen bottles so far.”

  “Wonderful,” I grumbled. “That makes me feel so much better, hearing your illegal potion is such a great success.”

  Mal only laughed. As worried as I was about the consequences of him peddling that fake potion, I was more afraid of what else Mal might have been up to during the past fortnight, such as plotting to steal back that orb. The return of Imelda and the girls prevented me from questioning him further.

  I could well imagine how distressed Imelda would be to find me sitting so close to Mal and holding his hand. I untwined my fingers from his and put a prim distance between us. When Amy realized she had lost her seat beside Mal, she pouted, but not for long.

  Both of my sisters were in a state of euphoria because of the ball tickets. Informing our neighbor of our good fortune had only increased their exuberance. Even Imelda was beaming.

  “I had no idea Mrs. Biddlesworth could be so amiable. She was full of good wishes for all of us.”

  “Especially you, Ella,” Netta said. “She seemed quite eager for the prince to sweep you off to his castle.”

  “I’ll wager she is.” Mal was quite aware of how matters stood between Mrs. Biddlesworth and me. “Mrs. B is so kind and neighborly, I am sure she would even help Ella pack.”

  I had to choke back a laugh as I replied, “Such assistance will not be necessary. I think it highly unlikely I shall be the one to marry the prince.”

  “Why ever not, my dear?” Imelda asked. “You are lovely enough to win the heart of any worthy man.”

  “Or even some unworthy ones,” Mal murmured, provocatively draping his arm behind me along the back of the bench.

  I saw the alarm in my stepmother’s eyes. I shifted farther away from Mal, casting him an admonishing glance. The gift of those ball tickets could mark a new era of…if not goodwill, at least of tolerance between my stepmother and my closest friend, which would make life far more agreeable for me. If only Mal could be induced to behave himself!

  Netta’s face clouded over. “It is wonderful that we have the tickets to the ball, but how are we to manage the rest of it? Ella said we cannot afford new ball gowns or the hire of a carriage and horses.”

  Amy batted her eyelashes at Mal. “I’ll wager Mr. Hawkridge could manage to conjure something for us.”

  “Amethyst!” my stepmother cried.

  “What, Mama? He said he is our fairy godfather.”

  Mal looked amused by Amy’s audacity, but her mother was horrified. Before Imelda could scold Amy, I made haste to intervene. “We do not need to rely upon a fairy godfather, Amy. I can provide all that we will need.”

  When everyone regarded me questioningly, I realized the time had come to reveal what I had done. As I fumbled with the ties that fastened my purse to my belt, I dreaded Mal’s response. He was going to be thoroughly vexed with me for selling my mother’s earrings. But I experienced a satisfaction that my sacrifice would not be in vain after all. Grateful as I was to Mal, it piqued my pride that I had not been able to provide my family with the tickets. But I would be the one to make sure they attended the ball in fitting style.

  It was with a small flourish of triumph that I upended my purse, spilling the pile of silver galoons onto the table. The gasps from my stepmother and sisters were quite gratifying.

  “Ella!” Netta gasped.

  “It’s a fortune,” Amy squealed.

  “My dear, however did you acquire so much money?” Imelda asked.

  “Obviously she sold something.” Mal scowled at me. “What was it this time?”

  I shrugged. “Just my emeralds.”

  “Just your…” Mal flushed with anger. “You confounded little idiot!”

  “Mr. Hawkridge, really!” my stepmother protested, but Mal ignored her.

  “I can’t believe you parted with your mother’s earrings and worse still, you went off and did it alone when I warned you never to—”

  I gave Mal a sharp kick to silence him. My stepmother realized I had sold things in the past, but she had only the vaguest notion how I went about it, believing that I dealt with some respectable merchant in Midtown. She knew nothing of my ventures into Misty Bottoms and I preferred her to remain in ignorance.

  I followed up the kick with a warning shake of my head. Mal swallowed the rest of his blistering rebuke, but I could tell it was difficult for him. He looked daggers at me and drummed his fingers on the arm of the bench. I hated to imagine his reaction when I told him I had been nearly robbed and killed. Perhaps it would be better if I kept that part of the story to myself.

  My stepmother regarded me gravely. “My dear child, I wish you would have consulted me first. I would have never allowed you to make such a sacrifice.”

  Netta’s eyes filled with tears. “I am so sorry, Ella.”

  Even Amy looked somber, although she could not refrain from pointing out, “But it is not as though Ella ever actually wore the earrings.”

  “Amy!” Netta cried.

  I forced a smile to my lips. “Amy is right and although I did experience a pang when I sold them, it is nothing to the joy I will feel when I see my two little sisters transformed into the most dazzling belles that ever graced a royal ballroom.”

  “Oh, Ella!” Both of my stepsisters leapt up and descended upon me. They obliged Mal to retreat to the very end of the bench in order to avoid being smothered in skirts. Netta and Amy embraced me, declaring that I was the most wonderful, amazing sister in the entire world.

  “Certainly she is the stupidest one,” Mal muttered.

  “What Ella did was not stupid,” my stepmother said sharply. “It was noble and kind and an investment in her future as well.”

  When Amy and Netta resumed their seats, Imelda also came to embrace me. She wrapped her arm about my shoulders and squeezed. I allowed my head to rest against her as she dropped a kiss upon my hair and cooed, “My darling girl, you shall be transformed as well and have the most magical evening of your life. You believe your heart was completely broken, but when you are waltzing in the arms of the prince, I think you are going to be very glad you never married that wretched young musician and—oh!”

  Imelda clapped her hand to her mouth as though she could recapture her impulsive utterance. It was far too late for that. Amy and Netta gaped at me. As for Mal, he could not have appeared more stunned if the pergola’s roof had crashed down on his head.

  My stepsisters had been far too young at the time to be aware of my infatuation with Harper and I had been quite secretive about the trysts with my bard. Now they were both on the edge of their seats, agog to hear all the details of my tragic romance. They assailed me with questions.

  “You were going to marry a musician, Ella? But he broke your heart? Was he handsome? What was his name?”

  “Never
mind, girls,” my stepmother interrupted as she returned to her chair.

  “But, Mama—”

  “I said never mind. Ella’s unfortunate romance happened a long time ago and I should never have mentioned it. We will forget about it and speak of more important things such as all that we must do to get ready for the ball. We have only two weeks.”

  The girls subsided with disappointed sighs. But their excitement over the upcoming ball would cause any secrets I harbored to dwindle in significance. While my stepmother might have been able to curb my sisters’ curiosity, I knew Mal would not be so easily distracted. At the moment, he was stunned into silence. When I risked a glance at him, his eyes were full of hurt and questions I wished I did not have to answer.

  Mal stood up rather abruptly, announcing that he had to leave. Imelda’s sigh of relief was audible, although she was gracious, thanking him once more for the tickets and politely saying she hoped he would call again. The invitation was warmly seconded by my stepsisters.

  Mal barely acknowledged them, his gaze focused on me. “Will you walk me to the gate, Ella?”

  The coward in me longed to refuse. But I could not avoid forever what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation.

  “Of course,” I murmured.

  Bidding farewell to my family, Mal offered me his arm. I rested my hand on the crook of his elbow as we left the garden. Imelda looked far from happy with this arrangement, but there was little she could say.

  Mal and I made our way back through the house, neither of us speaking. I had often taken strolls with my friend in this companionable fashion, but never had his arm felt so stiff beneath my touch or the silence so heavy.

  As we passed through the front door and down the garden walkway, I started to chatter as though I could delay the inevitable.

  “…and although Amy has never been good at housework, you would not believe what prodigious care she takes of her ponies. When she was a little girl, whether she had happy or sad tidings, she would always rush to tell Pookie and Pippa everything.”

  “Ella…” Mal began.

  “I am sure that is what she is doing right now, telling her ponies about the ball tickets. But you must not mention that to anyone. Amy would be so mortified if anyone knew.”

  “Ella!” Mal said more sharply. He came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the garden path, demanding, “So who was he? This musician who supposedly broke your heart?”

  “No one.” I withdrew my arm from his. “I mean he is no longer of any importance. Just let it go, Mal, please.”

  But of course, he was not about to do that. He took hold of my shoulders, obliging me to face him. “You fancied yourself in love with someone and you never told me? When was this?”

  “It happened a long time ago when I was seventeen and you were not around to tell. It was that summer after your grandfather died and you were grieving so much you took off on that trip upriver.”

  “But I came back and you still never breathed a word to me. Not once in all these years.” Mal looked far more than hurt. He appeared devastated. “I sensed there was something different about you when I returned from that trip. But I always attributed it to your father’s dying and leaving you with so much responsibility heaped on your shoulders. I never imagined there could be any other cause for your sorrow. Why, Ella? Why did you never tell me?”

  “There are some emotions that are too private for me to share, even with you, Mal. And it doesn’t matter now, whatever I thought I felt for this young man, because it all came to nothing.”

  “Why not tell me then? Who was he, Ella? This nothing that you fell in love with?”

  I sighed, more than ever regretting my stepmother’s slip of the tongue. I knew Mal would give me no peace until I confessed everything to him. “He was a traveling minstrel. His name was Harper.”

  “A traveling minstrel who called himself Harper! Thundering fairies, Ella! How naive could you be? You realize that likely wasn’t even his real name.”

  “And you wonder why I never told you any of this.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “But I know what these wandering musicians are like even if you don’t. He probably had some girl besotted with him in every town, maybe even a wife and children tucked away somewhere in another kingdom.”

  “He didn’t,” I snapped. “He could hardly have asked me to marry him if he was already wed—” I stopped, wondering why I was still so heatedly defending the man who had broken my heart. The bitter truth was I had known so little about Harper, Mal could possibly be right.

  “Maybe he was married,” I conceded. “That would certainly explain why he never turned up the night we were supposed to elope.”

  “Elope! You intended to run off with this villain without even telling me goodbye?”

  “You weren’t here! I was going to send you a note.”

  “A note? Oh, well, that would have made everything just great, wouldn’t it?” Mal said bitterly. “I would have come home to find that my dearest friend had disappeared with some itinerant lute plucker, but it’s all fine because she left me a frapping note!”

  “I am sorry,” I cried. “So will you kindly stop berating me for something I didn’t do years ago?”

  “Apparently the only reason you didn’t run off was because he deserted you. Frap, Ella! How could you be so cruel?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied miserably. “When I was with Harper, it was as though the rest of the world disappeared. All I could think about was him. I adored him so much.”

  “No doubt you did if you were willing to abandon everything for him. You were never a lukewarm girl, Ella. I always knew if you ever fell in love, you would surrender completely to the man lucky enough to win your heart.” Mal swallowed. “But I always hoped it would be me. I—”

  “Don’t, Mal.” I pressed my fingers to his lips to silence him. “Please don’t say anything we will both regret.”

  Mal shifted my fingers aside. “What you mean is, don’t say anything you don’t want to hear.” He gave me a look so rife with longing and despair, it made my heart ache.

  “All right, I won’t,” he conceded with a sigh. “At least not, for now.”

  I sighed, feeling grateful for the reprieve, even if it was only temporary. Mal had never been the sort of man easily discouraged when it came to getting what he wanted. I valued our friendship beyond anything, but I could never feel anything deeper for Mal than that. He had grown to be a mightily attractive man, but a part of me would always see him as the boy who used to swing on my garden gate, calling, “Ella! Come out and play.” Someday, I would have to force Mal to accept that. When that day came, I wondered what would become of our friendship.

  I realized that he was still holding my hand, but not with any amorous intent. He had discovered the bruises on my wrist and was frowning. “What happened here?”

  I withdrew my hand, so eager to shift the conversation away from any further discussion of Harper that I told Mal about the attack in Misty Bottoms and how Commander Crushington had rescued me. I expected another eruption from Mal, but perhaps by this time his anger was spent.

  He merely scowled and lightly rapped the top of my head. “Idiot! What were you thinking? Wandering around Misty Bottoms alone in the fog and laden with a sack full of coins? I never thought the day would come when I would say this, but thank the fairies for Commander Crushington!”

  “His arrival on the scene was indeed timely.”

  “What did this brute that attacked you look like?”

  I described the hulking creature, from his egg-shaped head and bulbous nose to his enormous feet. “He had an odd way of talking, trying to sound mockingly affable while giving me a nasty grin and he stank of garlic and fish.”

  “That sounds like Burt Iggy. He has a habit of lurking about Fugitate’s shop, hoping to waylay unwary customers.”

  “Then that should make it not too difficult for Crushington to find him. The commander has promised me to arrest the villain.
”

  Mal bared his teeth in a grim smile. “Not if I find old Iggy first.”

  “Mal, please do not do anything that could bring more trouble to your doorstep. The commander’s attention is already far too focused on you. Do you realize that he has even coerced poor Withypole into acting as his spy?”

  I expected Mal to be as shocked and outraged to hear this as I had been. Mal only laughed and shook his head. “You clearly do not know enough about fairies if you think they can be that easily intimidated. They are not sweet, gentle creatures, Ella, especially not one as cantankerous as Withypole Fugitate.”

  “But Commander Crushington told me this himself. Withypole is his informant.”

  “I have no doubt that he is. But according to what I have heard, Fugitate sought the commander out and volunteered his services.”

  “That makes no sense. Fugitate’s life has been made utterly miserable by the royal taxes and laws. Why would he volunteer to spy for one of the king’s commanders?”

  Mal hunched his shoulders and spread his hands wide. “Who knows what goes on in the mind of a fairy? But I’ve had my information from a good authority, Long Louie, who manages the Midtown livery stables.”

  “Long Louie,” I scoffed. “I am sure he is as reliable as your other chum, Waldo the Dock Rat.”

  “That’s Wharf Rat and Long Louie is by far more reliable. There is not much that goes on in Midtown or the Bottoms that escapes Louie’s notice.”

  As Mal and I wended our way toward the gate, I fretted my lower lip. “If what Louie told you is true, I owe Commander Crushington an apology. I thoroughly berated him when I thought he bullied poor Withypole.”

  “I would not lose any sleep over that.” Mal’s lips tipped in a smug smile. “I wonder how the Crusher enjoyed his morning out in the swamp, listening to the frogs croak and fending off the mosquitoes.”

  “How did you know where—” I glared at Mal accusingly. “You fed Withypole some sort of misinformation to pass on to Crushington, didn’t you?”

  “I may have just let slip I had something sinister planned, and I was meeting up with smugglers out in the fens.”