by Jenni James
“Brielle?” Her mother’s voice rang up the stairs. “Are you here?” It was that slight panic in her mother’s call whenever she couldn’t see Brielle straight away that humbled her. What fear do her parents live in? What would it be like to wonder if their secret daughter had been discovered?
“Yes, I’m coming.” Brielle put a smile on her face and skipped down the stairs. “How was the market?”
“It went well.” Mother kissed her cheek. “And dinner smells incredible as usual. How has your day been?”
“Most of it was spent helping Mrs. Molten chase her cow around the town. But we got everything under control and miraculously the beast only trampled one garden.”
Father laughed. “Well, that’s an adventure for you. Thank you for helping. It does make your mother and I very proud that you are so eager to aid another.”
It wasn’t like there was anything else to do. Brielle smiled and then headed over to the dining table. “I’ve made beef stew today and the bread is almost finished.” She paused. “How was your day? Did you find out anything new?”
Mother kissed Father on the cheek and then walked into the kitchen. “Let me help you set the table while your papa freshens up.” They both waited until Hansel wandered to the large bedroom. “No, sweetie. We had so many leads five years ago, but now everything has dried up. We still have no idea where you came from or who your real family is.” She collected the bowls and placed them on the table.
Brielle followed with the silverware. “But what about the couple looking for their daughter? The one where I matched the description? Weren’t you going to meet them today?”
The older woman’s shoulders slumped a bit and she held onto the back of a chair. “Sweetheart, yes we met them. But you are not their daughter.”
“I see.” It was always the same. Each time Brielle became hopeful, nothing came of it. “You know I love you and papa very much. You do realize none of this is because I don’t love you. It’s just—”
Gretel walked over and placed her hand on Brielle’s shoulder. “You long for more?”
“I’m eighteen, nearly nineteen. I feel so trapped here.”
“It is no life being hidden away, is it?”
“I would love to see the world, experience new things, perhaps, maybe, have a beau…”
“A beau?” Gretel laughed and stepped back and looked her over. “Why, Brielle, you have turned into a charming young woman right before my eyes. Of course you wish to experience love. At your age it is all I could think of. Forgive me for being so old I did not notice you’d grown up.”
“My only hope is meeting my family. I feel as though if I meet them, then I can finally stop hiding.”
Mother hugged her. “I can do you one better than that. Let me talk to your father. You have several gloves—even long dress gloves for events. As long as you keep your gloves on, I see no reason why you shouldn’t mingle with men and women your own age. Perhaps attend a few dances and such.”
“Really?” Brielle’s heart began to pound. “Are you serious, Mother?”
She chuckled. “Very much so.”
“That would be wonderful!” Brielle gave a little twirl right there by the dining room table.
“What is wonderful?” Father asked as he entered the room.
Chapter 2
A fortnight later and Brielle was once again twirling in the dining room, showing off the lovely new dress she and Mother had made for the ball that evening. It was meant to be a small country event with a few of the families in town. Baron and Baroness Gout took pity and invited Brielle to their gathering after Mother made a few inquiries about town. It did not matter to Brielle how she was invited. The important thing was that she was going! Excitement fluttered through her as Mother fluffed up the delicate blue bows that ran along the hem of the white gown. Her hair had been braided into loose folds and then artfully arranged into an intricate updo. With her long leather gloves and slightly poofed lace sleeves that tucked in at her elbows, Brielle looked like she was royalty herself.
She gave another twirl and then Father collected his driving coat. Tonight they were using her grandfather’s ancient coach. Papa had cleaned the old wood and seats until they shone. Brielle climbed into the musty thing and closed the door with a huge smile upon her face. If she didn’t know better she would’ve thought she was the enchanted Cinderella herself. Finally, after all this time, she was going to experience her very first ball!
Her posture was poised, her steps graceful, as she made her way to the door of the Baron’s home. Just at the top step she waved goodbye to Hansel. He promised to return no earlier than two o’clock. She had hours to live in such a dream. And she intended to enjoy every moment!
She knocked upon the door and was ushered in. Her joy was so full that it was several minutes of awestruck wonder and all the glittery newness around before she began to feel her first inkling of negativity.
As guests arrived, it was still another half hour before the dancing would begin. It was her time to be social and meet people. And maybe, by chance, have a few dances claimed on the dance card dangling from her wrist.
Except as she smiled and passed a group of five or six beautiful young ladies, who looked to be near her age, she was surprised to overhear them speaking about her.
“And she came without any escort at all, in the world’s most decrepit coach—truly, I thought the wheels might pop off at any moment!” said a pretty miss with an elegant gown.
All of the girls laughed and a few even snuck glances her way. In shame Brielle quickly turned her back to them, but due to the state of the crush of people still coming into the home, she was trapped within hearing range for several moments longer.
“And what is the meaning of that gown? Have you seen the sad little bows adorning it? Why it looks as though it was something her grandmother would’ve worn.”
“What a bizarre creature to come here believing she had a right to be amongst us!”
There was a break in the crowd and Brielle took it while she processed the hurtful words. Who would say such a thing about another person? Someone they didn’t even know? Or care to speak to? Her hands shook as she brushed at her gown. She found a small nook in the corner of the room and stood there for a moment to catch her bearings. It was remarkable how such short meaningless phrases could completely undo every bit of happiness she felt.
Perhaps it was best she never left her home. Maybe her parents were wise to shelter her as they had. If this was what it was like to have friends, to speak of strangers so coarsely and laugh at them, then she wanted no part of it.
Her ears seemed to take on a strange buzzing as a feeling of remorse flooded over her. It was a wave of stilted warmth that seemed to affect everything including her heart. Blinking back unexpected tears was the last straw. She turned her back to the room and faced the corner while she attempted to regain some composure.
It was while she was debating what to do a light hand touched her shoulder. “Excuse me, miss.”
She turned to see a very handsome young man holding out an embroidered handkerchief. He was dressed quite finely in a blue coat with a smattering of red and gold regal decorations across his chest.
“I couldn’t help but notice you were in distress and I’ve come to offer my service.”
Even more shame washed over her. And she could hardly look him in the eye, let alone speak to him. What must he think of her red-rimmed eyes and shabby dress and ill-manners? It was obvious to anyone that she stood out like a sore thumb. To add insult to injury, she had no idea who the man was. And his manners implied that she most definitely should. Perhaps he was Baron’s son and her host?
And why was she still staring at him? “I—thank you,” she muttered as she took the offered piece of silk. “This is very beautiful.” It was incredibly detailed stitching. Something only a master could create. “Did you needlepoint this yourself?”
The young man’s jaw dropped and he seemed quite flummoxed
by the question. With a chuckle he finally answered, “No. I did not. Though, I feel I should be flattered as you must believe it is a great achievement.”
What had she done? There was another social cue she had missed and obviously blundered. “Forgive me if I offended you.”
He bowed with a smile. “Of course not. Now, Miss Brielle, would you do me the honor of a dance or two?”
“Me?” She glanced around the bustling area. “I’m—I wasn’t sure if I was staying or not.”
“Did you not arrive to dance, then?”
Finally her gaze met his and her silly heart leapt in favor at the mischievous green she saw sparkling back at her. “I had hoped to. But soon realized I wasn’t—I shouldn’t—I’m most definitely not the type of person you dance with.”
“I’m confused, Miss Brielle. I have come purposely to inquire a dance or two and I’m still unsure of what your answer is.”
Brielle was not one to shy away from frank conversations. It was what she appreciated most out of life. Honesty. With a deep breath she pushed back what little pride she had left and replied. “You know my name, but I’m embarrassed to say I have no notion as to who you are, or why you would ask someone like me to participate in this ball. –Especially when it has come to my knowledge that I am clearly not suited or properly dressed for this event. I was debating on slipping out the door immediately, except my father dropped me off unchaperoned, and won’t be returning to pick me up until two. Which leaves me with the dilemma of walking home in the dark, or waiting out the festivities hiding here—just as you see me now. And if I remain very still, then possibly not providing anymore reason for people to be affronted by my presence.”
There it was. All of the ugly truth. With that, Brielle dabbed at her eyes. Not wanting to ruin the fine craftsmanship of the handkerchief, she promptly handed it back to him. “Thank you, again. You are too kind.”
He stared at the offered slip of cloth and shook his head before asking, “Why do females always make mountains out of molehills?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Chapter 3
C ome,” the handsome young man said as he tugged on her hand. “No, just a moment. First.” He bowed low. “My name is Corrian Richter. I am a guest—uh, er, cousin, of Baron and Baroness Gout. We were introduced when you first walked in, but I believe you were so overwhelmed you may have forgotten?”
She blinked. “Forgive me. Yes. I was looking at the beautiful décor, I must have seemed so discourteous. I truly have no recollection of you.”
“Intriguing is the word I prefer.”
“Do you?” Intriguing was a very good word. “Yes, but now you see how much I don’t belong here—”
“I was following you,” he interrupted.
“You—what?”
“I had left the receiving line to watch your unmistakable joy and wonder.”
She glanced down at her slippered feet and felt her heart tighten. “And did you hear what was said?”
“What made you so upset? Yes.”
“Oh.”
He cleared his throat. “And it took every ounce of self-control not to toss the girls out on their ears afterward as well.”
She met his gaze again. “You were—you were angry?”
“I was more than angry, I was livid. I could not fathom why they would treat someone as enjoyable as you to such harsh nonsense.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, I propose an alternate idea to your dilemma. Why don’t you hand over your dancing card and let us put those sniveling brats in their place? I assure you, I had no intention of dancing tonight, that is until now. Such crass behavior should never be rewarded. So if you will allow me to entertain you this evening. I promise that you will be allowed entrance into all the balls and galas and events you wish.”
“But—?” She glanced at her gown. “This is the nicest dress I own.” Her eyes strayed to the women all around them. “And frankly, the girls were right, it’s not anywhere near what it should be.”
He reached over and fingered the delicate lace at her sleeve and then his sparkling eyes found hers again. “My lands. You made this, didn’t you?”
“I—with my mother’s help, yes. But I did do most of the lace and embroidery work.”
He looked at her for several seconds without saying a word.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Forgive me. I’ve lived a pampered life. May I ask a few questions?”
Brielle glanced down at his hand still holding her sleeve. “Of course.”
“How long did it take you to create this lace?”
“How many days?” she asked.
“No, collective hours. Just an estimate will do.”
Her math skills were a little rusty and in front of such a handsome stranger they seemed to be almost nonexistent. “I—well,” she paused, “Perhaps about seventy or eighty hours.”
He looked distressed. “And did you make the gown purposely for this event? Or was it something you made before?”
She fidgeted under his concern and he let go. “I know it looks older—I mean, I realize now how old it looks, but it was something made specifically for tonight, yes. I guess—I should’ve perhaps, worked on another design.”
He closed his eyes and looked around the room. She had no notion of what he could possibly be thinking before he turned to face her once more and there was a distinct sheen in his gaze.
“This is your first event, no?”
She wanted to tell him she’d been to several things and was much more sophisticated than she let on. In fact, in that moment, she wished she’d been so much more worldly. And all those adventures she dreamed of and longed for had happened. Every single one of them. “Yes. I’ve been living here, just busy at home.”
“Many brothers and sisters?”
“Just me. The others are grown.”
He nodded. “Helping your aging father and mother?”
She was surprised to feel a connection with Corrian and with it came her first smile since walking through the doors. “Yes. My father believes he is much more physically capable than he is. But I quietly do the things around the farm so he isn’t so overburdened.”
He leaned against the wall next to her. “And how is that?”
“Lonely.” She grinned again. “But I sent them on a quest to find my real family. It has become my greatest desire. It keeps them both out of the house, and away from the farm, so they don’t harm themselves.”
“Your family? You do not know where you’re from?”
She glanced away. Suddenly she was on forbidden ground. “Forgive me. I should not have shared what I did. Please speak of this to no one.”
“Can I ask why?”
She twisted her gloved hands together. “No. I’m afraid not.”
“But perhaps I can help you? I know many people, from several different kingdoms. Maybe you and I were meant to meet today just for this purpose.”
She contemplated that idea for a few moments before shaking her head. “I would need permission from my mother and father first. They would know who to trust.”
“Very well,” he smiled, and with it the tension seemed to vanish. “Then I guess I must meet your parents.” He slowly took her hand and slipped the empty dancing card off her wrist. “Meanwhile, do not run away so quickly, please. I find I am even more eager to dance with you than I was before.” He took the small pencil on the string and scribbled inside. Then he closed the thing and slipped it back over her gloved wrist. “If I had worked eighty hours on something as beautiful as your gown, I would most definitely wish to dance in it.”
She blushed.
“You put us all to shame Miss Brielle, and I cannot wait to get to know you better.”
“Prince Corrian!” called Baroness Gout as she passed by. “Oh, there you are!” she gushed. “Come my dear, I have someone who is dying to meet you.”
“Prince Corrian?” Brielle’s jaw dropped.
The baroness smiled politely at
Brielle, but it was the prince’s intense gaze on her as the baroness whisked him away that caused Brielle’s heart to pound.
He was a prince?
When she opened her dance card her knees buckled. There was a line drawn diagonally across every single space on the card. His signature was scrawled across the drawn line, indicating that he wished to dance the whole night with only her.
Chapter 4
A n hour later and Brielle could not believe what a difference one person could make in changing her perspective of the evening. Everyone was whispering as they danced. Everyone was watching her in her unworthy gown. And in between dances, they were all being extremely polite to her. It would seem having a surprise guest such as Prince Corrian show up and then monopolize one girl the entire evening was enough to send out all sorts of gossip. But this time it was gossip she clearly approved of.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked after the sixth dance. “Do you wish to sit this next one out?”
She laughed. “Only if you are tired of being abused by my feet! Oh, I wish I had taken dancing lessons before this. Who knew I would be accosting a prince tonight?”
“It is my own doing.” He grinned playfully. “I should’ve asked if you knew how to dance before I agreed to all of these.”
“We can stop. I promise, I will find some other teacher.”
“And allow another man to meet and enjoy my greatest prize? Ha! No. I shall just have to suffer through you learning. Though, to be fair, this has been by far one of the most enjoyable evenings I’ve ever had.”
“Truly?”
“And though I tease about your feet, you are very nimble and are picking it up extremely quickly.”
She laughed. “I do wish we could do a dance more than once. As soon as I learn it, then they swap to another song.”
