Not Cinderella's Type

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Not Cinderella's Type Page 14

by Jenni James


  “Yes.”

  “Oh, and when you are through, please sweep off the front step. We do not want him walking up to the house when it looks such a sight.”

  “Yes, milady.” Ella curtsied again and rushed from the room. She would have to be quick to clean off the whole of the front steps before the duke arrived. Lord Gavenston rarely came late. In fact, more often than not, he was early.

  She hoped for his sake and Lacey’s that her stepsister would not blunder this meeting like she had previously. Ella winced. Lacey was always incredibly graceful—unless His Grace was around. And then, quite simply, she became a bumbling buffoon and would somehow or another cause great catastrophes. Hopefully, this time all would be well. Ella crossed her fingers for luck just in case. After all, the sooner Miss Dashlund was gone from the house, the fewer chores Ella would have to do for her silly stepsister.

  ***

  “OH, NO! YOU ARE not getting me to step foot into that house.” His Royal Highness Prince Anthony chuckled as he drew in the reins on his beautiful horse, causing him to stop in his tracks about a half mile down the road that would eventually lead them to Lady Dashlund’s rather exquisite manor. The manor, he could tolerate. It was the family that made him shudder.

  “But you promised,” Lord Gavenston replied, drawing in his rather fine black as well.

  Anthony shook his head. “No, I did not. I promised to accompany you on some errands, Cousin. I did not promise to waltz myself into that home and be prodded and fawned over like some ninny. Why, those girls could cool the east, lowering the temperature a whole two degrees with their eyelash fluttering alone.” The prince ridiculously fluttered his own lashes. They were on the most glorious of roadways, with fine green hills and rows of delicious apple and sturdy oak trees, some of the greatest lanes in all the kingdom, and here he was—looking the fool instead of enjoying the marvelous countryside.

  Zedekiah laughed. “You are quite awful, you know.”

  “I kno-ow!” he replied in a singsong voice, the type reserved for pantomimes.

  “And you look like a nincompoop.” Zedekiah clicked his tongue and tapped his mount to press onward. “I, for one, would not wish to be seen with you if you are to act this way.”

  “I cannot. I simply cannot do it,” Anthony replied as he tapped his horse as well. “My mother would have my head if she knew I had even spoken to them, let alone stepped in their house—and you know it!”

  “This is why I had to sneak you away, so you would accompany me.” Zedekiah looked over as Anthony came up. “The queen forces me to run these errands because she and Lady Dashlund were schoolgirls together. She does it to pay particular courtesy to her longtime friend. But she would rather be dead than seen conversing with the woman, which is why I, as the duke, must be her go-between. And honestly, I wish anything—anything—other than this task.”

  “I pity you, but I cannot risk it. They would devour me in a heartbeat.”

  “Come! You have not been here for ages—a good five years at least. They may have grown since then.”

  The prince crowed. “Yes, and this is why you need me to hold your hand. Because they are such proper ladies and behave so well! No, my mother has told me anecdotes about what the family has done to the royal castle alone. I have sheets and sheets written to me of nonsense this Miss Dashlund has done—do you have any idea how much it cost my mother to host them the last time they came? The number of shrubs she had to replace because of that girl’s foolishness?”

  “Which is why I need someone with me now. I would rather come out of there in one piece!” Zedekiah begged. “Please?”

  Anthony stared at him as their horses rounded the corner of the lane. The great house was about forty feet in front of them. He looked up and then reached over, his hand waving his cousin to a halt. “Who is that on the steps?” he asked quietly as both horses stopped.

  “I do not know.” Zedekiah peered at the girl Anthony indicated. “She looks like a maid of some sort. Why?”

  “Because I could swear it is Ella.”

  If you would like to purchase Cinderella, click here. You can learn more about Jenni James on her author page, on Facebook, and on Twitter.

  Table of Contents

  Not Cinderella’s Type

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE:

  CHAPTER TWO:

  CHAPTER THREE:

  CHAPTER FOUR:

  CHAPTER FIVE:

  CHAPTER SIX:

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  CHAPTER NINE:

  CHAPTER TEN:

  CHAPTER ELEVEN:

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

  CHAPTER NINETEEN:

  CHAPTER TWENTY:

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

  About the Author:

  Chapter One

  CHAPTER ONE

 

 

 


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