Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story

by K. L. O'Keefe

  Edith ran to her stepsister's side and gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “We'll get you to that ball,” Edith said. “If you're there, I know you would be the one he would choose!”

  “What if I'm wasting my time?” Cynthia sighed. “What if it is hopeless?!”

  “It won't be hopeless.”

  “How can you be so sure?!” Cynthia's tears had stopped, but her heart continued to throb. “What if Jemima sees me there?! It might be the end of me!”

  “No!” Edith protested. “It will mean a new beginning! My mother might rebel against you, but you can begin a new life... as Lord Charmington's bride!”

  “How can you be so sure he'll choose me?!”

  “Because he's in love with you!” Edith exclaimed. “I can see it in the way he looks at you... I can hear it in his voice whenever he speaks of you. He's yours, Cynthia! You need only to claim him!”

  “Well...” Cynthia's gaze traveled to Robert, then to Edith. Their faces were so sincere and encouraging, she felt like she owed it to them to give her love a chance. “How am I going to get to the ball? Lord Charmington might be our closest neighbor, but it is too far to walk!”

  Robert grinned at her. “I could carry you.”

  “What?!” Cynthia should have known it was one of his jokes; nevertheless, his suggestion made her gasp.

  “Actually, that won't be necessary. My uncle has a carriage. I'm sure it's not the fanciest you've ever seen, but it should be serviceable,” Robert said. “I can take you there.”

  “But I don't have anything to wear!”

  “You can wear one of my gowns,” Edith said. “You're a bit slimmer than I am, but we are roughly the same size.”

  “You two...” As Cynthia exchanged glances with the concerned friends beside her, the tears returned to her eyes. “I don't know what I would do without you! I am so honored that you want to help me.”

  “You are my sister,” Edith said. “Sometimes, I believe you might be my only sister. Nothing would make me happier than to see the smile return to your face.” She gave her stepsister's hand a gentle pat. “He makes you smile, does he not?”

  “He does. For some time now, I have been aware of an undeniable truth,” Cynthia said. “And that is... that I'm falling in love with him. Ever since the day we met, I was drawn to him. Every time I gaze into his eyes, I can see a happy ending for myself.” She searched Edith's eyes as she spoke. “Do you think it's foolish to feel the way I feel? Is it foolish to have hope?”

  “Of course not.” Edith shook her head. “Now, the ball is tomorrow. We have no time to waste! We need to find you the perfect dress!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Robert and Edith were standing by the carriage, eagerly awaiting Cynthia's arrival. Jemima and Georgiana were already en route to Lord Charmington's estate, which meant Cynthia was free to follow them. They knew her entrance would be fashionably late, but it was better late than never.

  “It's not good enough for her,” Robert said.

  Edith's eyebrow was raised. She did not know much about Robert, aside from the fact that he seemed to have Cynthia's best interests at heart.“Pardon?”

  “My uncle's carriage!” When he opened the door and peered into the interior, the door squeaked. “It's not good enough for her.”

  And it was true. His uncle's rickety post chaise was hardly suitable for an earl's daughter, but it was the only vehicle they had at their disposal.

  “As long as it can get her to Ridgeley Manor, the state of the carriage isn't a concern.” In the corner of her eye, Edith superciliously eyed the ramshackle vehicle. As old as it was, it looked like it was a gust of wind away from total dilapidation. “Are you certain it actually moves?”

  “Of course it moves! How do you think it got here?”

  “Well, I--”

  Edith's response was interrupted by the arrival of Cynthia, who emerged from the servants' entrance looking like a cherub. Her honey blonde hair had been swept into an immaculate style. Golden ringlets, like an angel's feathers, framed her ivory face. Her pale pink dress was trimmed in lace, and on her neck, she wore a simple teardrop diamond. From head to toe, she was a vision of loveliness. Not even Robert could tear his eyes away from her.

  “Oh, Cynthia!” Edith's hand flew to her heart. “You are so beautiful!”

  A shy smile tipped the younger woman's lips. “You think so?”

  “Oh yes! I've never seen you look more beautiful!” Edith pulled her forward, into a welcome embrace. “I am more excited for you than you can imagine!”

  “You are too kind, Edith. I only hope I will make you proud.” In the back of her mind, Cynthia was terrified—terrified that Lord Charmington would choose someone else, terrified that he would completely overlook her. And she doubted she could hide herself from Jemima and Georgiana for the entire night. Lord Charmington's ball was either going to be miraculous or disastrous.

  When their embrace ended, Cynthia stepped away from Edith and turned her attention to Robert, whose eyes wandered down the length of her body. “She is beautiful,” he quietly agreed.

  “Was that a compliment?” Cynthia gasped. “A genuine compliment?! From Robert?!”

  “Well, I'm not telling you anything you haven't heard a thousand times. Of course you're beautiful! I'm sure you're used to having men fall at your feet... what's another compliment from your old friend Robert?”

  “It means a lot, coming from you.” Cynthia reached for Robert, who handed her into the carriage. When she was inside, she realized she had one more person to acknowledge. She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket. As she stared at the words, her eyes filled with tears.

  I LOVE YOU

  “Wish me luck, Father,” she whispered to herself.

  Not one to mind his own business, Robert stuck his head through the carriage window and asked, “What's that?”

  “It is a letter... from my father.” As she spoke, Cynthia held up the paper so he could see it. “They were the last words he ever wrote.”

  “Aww. That's touching.”

  Cynthia pouted at him. “Please don't mock me, Robert. I don't need you teasing me about this as well!”

  “What?!” Robert's hands flew to his hips. “I'm not teasing, Princess! I'm being completely genuine! I'm sincerely touched by your father's last words!”

  Cynthia folded the note and returned it to her reticule. “So you say.”

  As Robert climbed into the driver's seat—and mumbled about feeling “wounded”—Edith stepped up to the window. “Good luck, dearest sister!” she exclaimed.

  “How can I ever thank you enough, Edith? I am forever in your debt!”

  “To see you eternally happy would be all the thanks I would need!”

  Robert flicked the horses into motion. As the carriage pulled away, Cynthia hanged her head out the window and kept Edith in view as long as she could. Even if Charmington chose someone else, even if the night was a disaster, Cynthia knew she had much for which to be grateful.

  She had the most wonderful friends in the world.

  * * *

  “DAMN!”

  When the carriage stopped, and she heard him cursing, Cynthia knew there was something amiss. Robert's foul language left something to be desired, but she expected no less from him. He never seemed too concerned by the fact that he was in the presence of a lady.

  With a piercing squeak, the carriage door swung open. When she saw Robert's face, he looked more frustrated than she had ever seen him.

  “I'm sorry to say,” Robert cleared this throat, “the carriage is broken.”

  “Broken?!”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” When Robert looked at the broken wheel, he had to resist the temptation to give it a swift kick.

  “Is it something you can fix?!”

  Robert swept his dirty cloth hat from his head and twisted it between his hands. He shook his head, which made his messy brown curls tumble comically. “Alas, no. It's not something I would be able to fix
within a reasonable time frame.”

  “H-How much further do we have to go?!”

  “Two miles. Give or take.” Robert slammed the hat onto his head and offered Cynthia his hand. “Come on. Step down.” Cynthia reluctantly accepted his proffered hand and alighted from the carriage. When he saw her wrinkle her nose, he had to chuckle. “What's with that face?! You don't trust me?”

  “No.” Cynthia looked down at his hand, in which he was still holding hers. “I was wondering about the cleanliness of your hands.”

  “Are you serious?!” His chuckle turned into a roar of laughter. “I'll have you know, I've been taking very good care of my hands! Even my fingernails are sparkling!” He let go of her and wiggled his hand in front of her face. “Now, we need to get you to that ball! Unless you have another suggestion, I'm going to unhitch one of the horses and--”

  “Now I'll be arriving on horseback!? I could have done that on my own!” Cynthia sighed. “Well, I suppose that's one way to make an entrance...”

  Robert unhitched a brown mare and mounted up. “Chin up! It isn't as if we'll be riding into the ballroom on horseback! Although... I am sure it would make quite an impression if we did!” The next time he took Cynthia's hand, he pulled her onto the horse in front of him.

  When Robert wrapped his arms around her, the strangest thing happened.

  Cynthia's heart fluttered.

  * * *

  Lord Charmington was having a miserable time, but it was to be expected. He had danced with practically every young lady in the room. Many of them were pretty, and most of them were exceedingly polite, but none of them stirred his emotions like a particular stunning maid. How had he lost his heart to a servant, of all things? How could he possibly open his heart to anyone else when all he could think about was her?

  The worst part of the day was when he was forced to dance with Georgiana, who batted her eyelashes at him the entire time. To make matters worse, she was trying to sell herself in a way that was borderline inappropriate.

  “Are you truly going to propose to someone tonight, my lord?” Georgiana asked him. “You know, I believe I would have all the qualities of an amazing wife. I would be honest and faithful … dutiful and true. I am a pleasant companion, and I would treat you with respect. More than anything, I believe a husband deserves to be respected! It should be a wife's duty, first and foremost, to make her husband feel comfortable and appreciated. I would always support you, I would never be a nag...”

  Georgiana wasn't subtle in the slightest. As soon as the dance ended, he led her back to her mother; he could not be rid of her quickly enough.

  After his dance with Georgiana, he found himself in the company of a Miss Harwell, who flitted her fan and pursed her lips in a way that was obnoxiously coquettish. Miss Harwell prattled on and on about her cats, how much she loved them, and how they all had wonderful, distinct personalities. As Miss Harwell droned about cats, Lord Charmington's gaze wandered around the room.

  And that's when he saw her. Cynthia—his Cynthia—was standing at the ballroom's entrance. With her golden hair and glowing skin, she was the purest beauty in the room. She was an Incomparable, an enchanting vision, a sight to behold. As soon as James' eyes landed on her, he knew his gaze would never wander for the rest of the night.

  “Excuse me, Miss Harwell...” he curtly excused himself. As he made his way toward Cynthia, the cat-loving young miss glared at his fleeing backside.

  Almost as soon as she entered the room, Cynthia saw Lord Charmington making his way toward her. The ball was a crush; however, even in the crowded room, it was as if they were drawn to one another. Several seconds later, the man of her dreams was standing in front of her, and he regarded her with the warmest, most adoring smile in the world. At the first sight of his dimples, Cynthia swore she could feel her knees melting.

  “Cynthia...” he whispered her name.

  “My lord.” Cynthia bobbed a curtsy, like a proper lady would. “I hope you don't mind... I came.”

  “Of course I don't mind. I'm absolutely thrilled to see you here!” Lord Charmington pulled her hand to his face and kissed her knuckles. “Although, I must admit... it is a bit surprising.”

  “I--”

  Before she could utter another word, Lord Charmington had to say, “You take my breath away.” He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, and resisted the temptation to touch her lips as well. Ever since they met, he had been dying to kiss her. If he had one taste of those lips, he knew he would lose his heart to her forever. “Will you dance with me?”

  “I... don't know.” Cynthia tore her eyes away from James and scanned the room for Jemima and Georgiana. If they spotted her, she knew her fairy tale with Lord Charmington would come to an abrupt and immediate end.

  “Please dance with me,” he insisted. “I've danced with so many women already... but the only one I want to dance with is standing right in front of me. The fact that you're here is something of a miracle. Your presence is proof of a higher power, because someone must have answered my prayers.”

  “Then... I would love to dance with you, my lord.”

  James took her by the hand and led her to the dance floor, where couples were lining up for the quadrille. Now that she was dancing with Lord Charmington, Cynthia knew it would be impossible to evade the notice of her stepmother and stepsister. Somewhere in the room, they would surely be glaring at her. Fortunately, she could rest assured they would not risk making a scene in front of the earl.

  “You dance beautifully,” he complimented her. “I wonder... when did you have time to practice? How did you learn?”

  “I... learned the steps on my own,” Cynthia lied. More than anything, she wanted to end the charade and confess her true identity. She was waiting for the right moment to reveal everything.

  “You learned to read on your own...” Lord Charmington said. “You learned to dance on your own. My dear, you are definitely an enigma!”

  When the steps of the dance separated them, Cynthia's eyes probed her surroundings. When she spotted Jemima and Georgiana, her body went rigid with fear. They were standing together at the far end of the ballroom, and they didn't look happy.

  As soon as Lord Charmington returned, she asked, “M-my lord... do you think it would be possible for us to step outside for a bit of fresh air? I'm feeling a bit peaked.”

  “Are you alright? Are you ill?”

  “I am fine. I believe I might be unaccustomed to the crowd.”

  The dance ended, so Lord Charmington took her by the arm and led her outside. From the garden terrace, they could still hear the music, and the sounds of laughter from nearby revelers.

  “Are you feeling better?” James asked, pleased to see the color returning to her cheeks. When he saw Cynthia's nod, he swore he could feel his heart sighing in relief. “Good. Because now that we're alone, there is something I must ask...”

  Cynthia's entire body trembled with anticipation. She kept her hands behind her back; she did not want him to see how badly they were shaking. “What is it, my lord?”

  “I... want to...” Lord Charmington knew the reason for his hesitation. He wanted her more than anything in the world, but Cynthia was a maid, and his mother would never approve.

  “Whatever you need to ask me, my lord, you needn't be afraid.” His proposal was coming—she could feel it! “You may ask me anything.”

  “I...” He took a deep breath. No matter how much he wanted to be with her, he could not ignore his reservations. They would always be there in the back of his mind, eating away at him. “Why did Lady Edith not come?”

  Chapter Twenty One

  “Ed...ith?” Cynthia was gobsmacked. What if, all along, Edith was the one he wanted to marry? What if Edith was the reason for his regular visits to Montforth Hall? As much as she adored Edith, she could feel her bitterness mounting.

  “I wanted every female of marrying age to be here. She said she was a spinster, but I happen to disagree. She is a kind, handsome w
oman, and any man would be lucky to have her.”

  “What about you, my lord?” Cynthia asked. “The way you speak of her, it sounds as if you care for her. Is Edith your heart's desire?”

  “No.” His answer flew from his mouth. “And it's high time for me to be honest with you, Cynthia. I am sure this is hardly surprising, considering how frequently I have sought you out.” Lord Charmington reached for her hands and pulled them to his lips. He held her fingers against his mouth, kissing them several times. “You are my heart's desire.”

  “But I'm--”

  “Please, hear me out,” he interrupted. “I know you're a maid... I know that. But it doesn't matter to me. Ever since the day we met, I have been in Cupid's grip. The way I was drawn to you... I had never experienced anything like it! It was, without a doubt, love at first sight.”

  “Are you saying you love me, Lord Charmington?”

  “Yes!” He shouted his answer to the heavens. “Yes, yes! I've been in love with you for quite some time... only now am I willing to admit it! You know the reason for this ball, do you not? I was supposed to choose a wife. When you stepped through the door, my heart was momentarily frozen. It was as if the hand of fate was reaching out to me! It was as if divine intervention had stepped in to give me the sign I needed.” James cradled her palm against his cheek. “We are meant to be together, you and I.”

  “Is this really how you feel, my lord?”

  “It is!” His dark blue eyes were fastened on hers. “After I pour out my heart to you, how could you possibly doubt it?” James released her hand and sunk to his knees. “Marry me, Cynthia!”

  “You really want to marry me?!” Cynthia could feel tears gathering in her eyes. “Even though you think I'm... a servant?!”

  “I want it more than I have ever wanted anything! I want to wake up every morning and see you beside me. I want to sift my fingers through your glorious hair... to taste your soft, saccharine lips. I want you in my life, and nothing will make me change my mind!”