Bartholomew Angleton looked exactly as Ella remembered: a tall man with a thick build, a broad smile and cheerful blue eyes. His black hair was now mixed with gray and it made Ella feel momentarily nostalgic for her father. What would he look like now? Would his hair be just as grey, less grey, perhaps more?
“Little Ella,” Lord Angleton said, heading straight toward her and drawing her into a hug. “You’ve grown so big now. You look so much like Penelope.”
She enjoyed his embrace, lingering for a moment longer than she should. He felt sturdy and supportive. It was a little like the way she felt when her father had hugged her. It seemed it had been too long since she’d received a loving, fatherly hug. Ella remembered fondly how she used to address her father’s friend when she spoke. “Uncle Bart. That’s kind of you to say.”
He released her and she noticed another young man enter behind him. It was his son Charles, Ella was sure. Charles was two years older than Ella and when they were children, he had enjoyed showing her the frogs and toads he found in the woods. Now, Charles was the same height as his father, but lean like a pole. He had an awkward gait, a shy smile, freckles and flaming red hair.
“Charles,” she said, and gave him a gentle smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
He nodded. Lady Kenna directed everyone to a seat and dominated the conversation, chattering endlessly, their guests too polite to buck against their host’s rudeness. Ella spoke to Lord Angleton once more but not at all to Charles. When Lord Angleton kept trying to inquire of Ella’s life, what it was like, she felt Lady Kenna’s hostile stare. Finally, Ella made her excuse, just like Lady Kenna had asked her to, and said she needed to rest. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, dear,” Uncle Bart said. “But, I brought you a gift. Charles, get the gift for Ella, please.”
Charles, who’d been carrying a shoulder satchel, reached inside and pulled out a drawing pad and a small wooden box. “It’s drawing coals and pencils,” he said, as he handed it to Ella.
She felt pure joy at the sight of the gifts and said a heartfelt, “Thank you,” as she accepted them.
“You still draw?” Bart said.
“Yes, I do, Uncle Bart,” she said “It was one of the few things my father taught me, so I like to do it still. I appreciate this very generous gift.”
Bart chuckled, his frame shaking. “Oh, think of Edward when you use it and I shall be happy. I still miss him.”
“As do I,” said Lady Kenna, standing. She turned to Ella. “Dear, I’d hate for you to fall ill. If you’re not feeling yourself, you should rest.”
“Yes,” said Bart. Ella turned to head toward her room. Bart called out to her. “Ella, before you go, I should just say, you’ve turned into a lovely young woman. Your father would be proud of you.” She nodded and went to her room.
Inside her tower, she sat quietly, wondering if Uncle Bart was right. Would her father be proud of her? She’d gone off and whored herself to some noble man she barely knew. Though, did it matter if she barely knew him or not. Even if she’d known him well, the truth of the matter was that he was someone who viewed her merely as another possession to use. She thought he was different at first, but she realized that he wasn’t. And is that the life her father would want for her?
Even though Lady Kenna was an awful woman, did that mean that Ella had to do such things to get away from her? Was there another way to do this? A way that her father might, in fact, be proud of? She sat in quiet contemplation and after a while, she saw Lord Angleton and Charles ride off on their horses. She watched them through the tiny window, though she doubted they saw her.
A moment later, the door down below banged open and Ella heard Lady Kenna climbing the stairs, before the woman emerged before her, seething. “Your father’s friend hopes to arrange a marriage between you and his son Charles,” she said.
“I don’t want that,” Ella said, before Lady Kenna could say a word more. She knew she had to stop this right now. Lady Kenna would never agree to such a thing and expressing any interest in it was of no value to Ella.
“I don’t care what you want or don’t want,” Lady Kenna said, a vein bulging in her forehead as she charged over. The thin, pinched woman pointed a bony finger toward Ella and spoke bitterly. “Lord Angleton will be back on Sunday to attend Church with us and then have tea. You will tell him that you do not want to wed right now, and you will suggest that Charles marries Bathilda.”
Bathilda! Charles seemed a decent fellow. Ella wasn’t sure she could suggest such misery for him when he’d never done anything to harm her. But she could never argue with Lady Kenna. “Of course, stepmother,” she said.
“Don’t you dare think about doing anything to get an in for yourself with Lord Angleton and his son. If you do anything to jeopardize Bathilda’s chance at a good marriage, I will marry you off to the wickedest suitor I can find. Someone evil and depraved, someone who will make your life miserable from top to bottom. You think that living here with me is bad. You have no idea. You have none whatsoever. The only chance a woman has for a good life is a good marriage. If you want any chance at that, you will make it right for my Bathilda. Or else I will turn your life into what mine once was. I have lived with a wicked man. You have only known people like your father and Lord Angleton, men who are kind and gentle to their women, men who would never degrade, humiliate or beat you. Well, I have known such men. I was married to such a man, and only death kept it from being permanent. If you want even a chance at something happier than misery, a shot at spinsterhood or an actual man who will treat you with, at the very least, respect, then you will do what I say.”
Ella took a step back, amazed for once by her stepmother’s honesty. “Yes, stepmother,” she said.
Chapter 12
Ashton lunged with his epee, striking his cousin in the chest. Chandler kneeled, conceding defeat, and then stood and lifted the mask from his face. “Well done, your Highness,” Chandler said.
“Oh, you don’t have to be an arse because you lost,” Ashton said, extending a hand to help him up. Chandler looked like a softer version of his brother Leith: blond, fairly muscular, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a more playful spirit. The cousins had been practicing fencing in the courtyard and Ashton had bested Chandler. While Leith was almost unbeatable, Ashton tended to have at least 50/50 odds with the younger of his two cousins.
As Chandler stood, he smiled at Ashton. “So, you seem particularly dapper,” he said. Then he whispered. “Enjoying your nighttime activities.”
Ashton looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. Seeing a few servants settled in the distance, he spoke softly. “Of course I am,” he said. “I shall always thank you and Leith for suggesting it. Unlike you, I’m not able to get out to such establishments. So ordering in, as this is an ideal compromise.”
Chandler chuckled. “When will Aunt Elizabeth finally let you out from under her shackles?”
Ashton shook his head. “Four more weeks,” he said. “My father has promised me free reign after my birthday ball. As soon as I finish greeting all the visiting nobles and am officially presented to the world, I can come and go as I please. Until then, I must humor my mother.”
Chandler set his epee on a small table. A servant approached to retrieve it, but Chandler waved him back, so that he and his cousin could finish their chat. Chandler unlatched his white fencing jacket and removed the plastron beneath it. He looked up at his cousin. “I’m still a tad confused about why it is you’re not allowed about. You’re the only prince under lock and key I’ve ever met. And nary a single one of your citizens has seen you.”
Ashton rolled his eyes. “It’s mother’s belief in fairies and enchantments and soothsayers and magic,” he said.
“The church can’t be happy with that,” Chandler said, even softer than he’d spoken before.
“It doesn’t know,” he said. “But, there was an old soothsayer who told my mother when I was born that I would be in grave danger unt
il I turned 20, and that she needed to keep me close to the castle, protected. She needed to keep me away from prying eyes. So, my last official portrait was when I was an infant, and since then I’ve been mainly here, and sometimes, as you know, we traveled to stay with your father. Apparently, his duchy is some type of safe haven.”
“A safe haven?” Chandler asked, smiling and then raising an eyebrow. “Safe for you, but not the ladies.”
Ashton snickered. “Chandler, I am not like you and Leith in that way,” he said. “I enjoy the companionship of a maiden, like any good man, but I don’t enjoy it the way you and your brother do.”
“While I can’t speak for my brother, I certainly enjoy my nighttime activities. Perhaps if you gave it a try,” Chandler said, with an uptick of hope in his voice. “You might like it, too.”
“I’ve found something I like just fine,” Ashton said.
Chandler grinned and winked at him. “I saw,” he said.
Ashton took a step back and gave his cousin a scrutinizing stare. “What do you mean?”
“Your father had some secret errand for Heinrich last night, and I had to escort her out,” he said. “She’s quite fetching. I could see why you like her. Maybe you’d consider sharing?”
Ashton felt the anger surge in him as he looked at the lascivious grin on his cousin’s face. He grabbed Chandler by the collar and said in a low growl, “Stay away from her. Do you understand?”
Chandler’s eyes widened and he tried to pull loose, but his cousin’s grip was too strong. “Yes,” he said. “She’s off limits. I won’t go near her again.”
Ashton let go of him and nodded. “She’s not like the other girls. She’s not your type,” he said. “Trust me.”
Chandler nodded. “Of course, cousin.”
Chapter 13
When Faye stopped by that day, Ella had never been gladder to see her. She immediately told Marigold she needed to check on Hermione and headed out to the cow.
“Faye,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here. I need a huge favor.”
Faye stared at her. “More salve? I thought it was healed last time I saw it,” she said.
Ella shook her head. “No, it’s not that,” she said. She lifted her dress and tied to her leg, there was a bundle. Ella undid the knot quickly and handed it to Faye. “Take this to the castle and give it to the man who waits the gate, Heinrich. You know him, right?”
Faye nodded. “I do. He’s the one hired you, so you know him, too. Why don’t you give it to him?”
Ella sighed. She hated it when Faye decided to ask questions rather than agree. “Please,” she said. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just give it to him, and tell him it’s for Ash. Please.”
Faye scowled and took a step back. “Will he be angry at what’s in there?”
Alas, Faye knew her too well. “A little, but please Faye.”
“Tell me everything, now.”
Ella didn’t want to or think she had the time, but she explained to Faye about how she’d felt ashamed, about the way the other cousin had leered at her and propositioned her, about Lord Angleton telling her that her father would be proud of her. “I’m not going back to see him, and I just want to let him know. That’s it. Give it to him, please.”
Faye nodded. “I understand how you feel,” she said. “Sometimes being with a man fills your soul, and sometimes it sucks it right out. If it’s sucking your soul out, you oughtta be through with it.”
Ella nodded. She was glad Faye understood.
Faye stood, as if she planned to leave, but then she didn’t move. She looked down at Ella. “What about Lord Angleton?” she asked. “Maybe if you explained the situation, maybe he could be of help to you, get Lady Kenna to be nicer.”
Ella shook her head. “No,” she said. “Right now, things are alright because she wants me to make Uncle Bart think things are well. If I told him they weren’t, and he said something to her, she’d treat it as an absolute betrayal. Lord Angleton’s opinion of her would be ruined, so she’d see no reason to even pretend to be kind to me anymore. She’d marry me off to someone awful. And then I’ll be no better off. At least now, she’s kinder as she pursues Charles. I’ll figure something out during what I hope is a long courtship.”
Faye nodded. “I understand,” she said. “Don’cha worry Ella. You’ll figger out sumtin. And I’ll take your note.”
Ella smiled at that. At least one thing would be settled.
* * *
Heinrich was leaning on the wall, grimacing, and the prince had the package in his hands.
“Start over,” Ashton said. “What happened again?”
Heinrich grimaced and took a breath. “Cinders’ friend came up to me, told me she had a package from her for you.”
“Yes,” Ashton said, impatiently.
“I told her to come with me, in case you had any questions. She said she’d be glad to, and as I turned to lead her here, she stomped hard on my foot, pushed me over and ran away. She threw the package in the opposite direction so I’d have to choose if I wanted to get her or the delivery. She was very clever.”
He looked down at the package in his hand, dread filling him. He knew it was bad. No one left a package that way unless it was bad. He unwound the small package, really a bunch of old cloths folded several times over something hard and tied with a string. When he got to the contents, he found most of what he had paid Cinders, along with a note.
I’m sorry. I can’t come tonight or any other night. I have enjoyed our time together, but this is not who I am. I am returning most of the money. I promised a friend a portion for doing me the favor of keeping the coins safe. It was not right to ask her for it back, so I didn’t. But the rest is yours to keep. I shall never forget you.
Cinders
Chapter 14
Ashton had needed to get out. After the disappointment of Cinders not showing up the other night, he couldn’t stay at the castle any longer. He’d asked a favor of his cousin Leith, who was fairly dependable for keeping things mum. He’d dressed in a hooded cloak and taken Leith’s horse. Now he was free. Riding in the countryside. Riding out in the open. Away from the gates of the castle. Away from his mother’s overprotective insanity. He wished she’d never heard the rumors of Princess Briar Rose being locked away in a castle surrounded by thorns, all due to the magic of an evil fairy. Or even if she had heard the rumor, that she’d never met the soothsayer who told her his life would be in danger until after his 20th birthday.
Still, it was just a few weeks away. October 1. He couldn’t wait. He wanted nothing more than to feel this freedom on a daily basis. He’d been out this way before. Several times, in fact. When he was but a child, his mother trusted Gertrude impeccably, allowing her to take him all about. She’d brought him to a small pond in the middle of the woods, in a clearing. It had the most beautiful crystalline blue water he’d ever seen. A perfect blue, that sparkled in the midday sun. It was a hazy, lazy place that he remembered with fondness.
One day Gertrude had taken him there when he’d fallen into the thorns. It had been a freak accident, but his mother had reprimanded Gertrude badly. The woman had only redeemed herself by providing the folk remedy, that fragrant-smelling salve that had sped up the healing process. Still, Gertrude hadn’t been allowed to take him on such journeys again and just six months later, she had gone to serve the Duke. While Ashton’s mother had protested, the King had said Ashton was too old to still have a nursemaid.
Ashton rode on, enjoying the peace, enjoying the memories and finally, he saw it. At least, he thought that was it. The woods seemed to almost thicken around the area where the clearing should be. If his memory served him right, it was near here. Even though Gertrude had brought him here often, he’d been only been 12 the last time he came. Still, something about the area up ahead just felt right.
* * *
Ella could not believe her good fortune. Lady Kenna had her heart so set on Bathilda marrying Lord Angleton’s son Charles and
Marigold meeting a young man too, that she’d taken the girls to town for a day of shopping for dresses, along with some type of beauty treatment.
Ella only had a few chores to complete, so she did them quickly, grabbed a blanket to relax on and ran, yes, literally ran, all the way to the Crystal Pond. She wasn’t sure if that’s what the official name of the pond was, but it’s what her parents called it. Her father had actually told her it was a magical pond that could only be discovered by fairies and lovers. She’d always grinned and laughed when he said it, as she never quite believed him. Though, the truth was, she’d never seen anyone else at the Crystal Pond but her and her parents, or herself alone. The pond was off the beaten path, so she attributed its lack of popularity to that. But today, as she ran, carefree as she had been as a child, wanting nothing more than to escape the late summer heat wave and enjoy a refreshing dip in the pond, she wondered if it was? Something about the pull of the pond felt magical, like it was calling to her.
As soon as she got to the little clearing, she looked around for any signs of another human being. She even called out, “Hello? Anyone here?” Nothing. She smiled, set out her blanket, stripped off her dress and undergarments and waded into the pond. She went in slowly, letting the shock of the cool water settle in and contrast with the heat of the day.
The water felt so good since it had been so hot today and she’d sweated a lot on the run over. It was probably one of the last days of excessive summer warmth and she dipped her head under and swam out to the center of the pool. She looked around, leaned back, floated and enjoyed the solitude and peace. She righted herself, deciding to tread water. She looked up to see the sun was directly overhead. Noon. Lady Kenna and the girls wouldn’t be back until suppertime. She could languish here for a while and sketch a few of the plants Mr. Halliwell had told her about before Lady Kenna told her she couldn’t work for him anymore. Ella had decided to approach Mr. Halliwell’s son and ask if she could do the work for him. It wouldn’t technically be violating Lady Kenna’s order, and maybe he would agree. She thought Mr. Halliwell and his sons were nice people and would still want the work done. If she could convince them not to tell Lady Kenna of the new arrangement her plans to escape might still work. With what he had been paying her, she was sure she could simply book passage on a ship bound for a place far away. She’d figure out how to survive when she got there. She would start over, saying she was orphaned and a woman who had to provide for herself. It was on the most basic level true. The inheritance she should have had was being used to provide for her stepsisters, and Lady Kenna would never treat her justly.
Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3) Page 7
