Disdain: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 2)

by M. J. Haag

  “Let me get the dishes while you wash,” I said.

  They nodded and moved toward the door.

  “Do you want to dress first?” I asked, unsure if they were aware they would be walking out into the yard naked.

  “No,” Heather said wearily. “We would only dirty our clothes.”

  It was then that I noticed the odd sheen to their skin in certain places.

  “A girl can only swallow so much cum,” Catherine said. “If cum baths made a woman look young, I bet the wives of these men would never let them leave home.”

  The pair chuckled as they left. I didn’t see what was so funny.

  Limping my way to the dining room, I started gathering dishes. It took me a long while as I had to stop frequently to breathe and brace myself against the table. My legs started throbbing with increasing pain by the time I made it into the kitchen with the first stack of plates.

  Heather and Catherine weren’t yet back, so I returned to the dining room for more dishes.

  Maeve walked in, the amulet around her neck once more a vibrant green. She paused at the sight of me.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Clearing the table while Heather and Catherine bathe.”

  She sighed as if exasperated with me.

  “Eloise, this work is beneath you.”

  I frowned.

  “But you told them to make sure I worked. I thought you wanted—”

  “I want you to learn your place,” she said. “Something you seem to have difficulty doing.”

  I said nothing. I didn’t know if this was some new game or if there was something I truly wasn’t understanding. More than anything, I wished Kellen was here. Not in pain or captivity with me, but to guide me. She was the smart one who could see things clearly. Not me.

  Maeve continued to study me. The final stack of plates grew so heavy in my abused arms that I started to shake. Her lips curled slightly when she saw it.

  “I think you might be learning, Eloise. Return those to the kitchen, then rest. Heather and Catherine will clean the rest of this.”

  She didn’t need to ask if I understood, but I nodded automatically as if she had. Her smile widened further, and in that moment, I truly did understand. My place was under her thumb. Under her control. And, she was starting to believe she had me there.

  She turned and left the room, and I stared after her, keeping my expression impassive. I’d let her think she was training me. My goal hadn’t changed. I would find a way to stop her. Even if the tracker returned with my sister, I would find a way.

  Maeve will suffer all that I suffer, I vowed silently.

  Chapter Four

  I sat carefully on the bench beside Catherine.

  “You should be resting,” Heather said, watching me.

  “I will lose more strength if I lie about all day. I’m better if I move around.”

  “Trust us,” Catherine said. “Rest heals faster than forcing yourself to move about.”

  The door swung open, and Maeve walked in with a large smile on her face. Catherine immediately rose to fetch Maeve’s breakfast.

  “Today is the day,” she said, joining us at the table.

  My heart stopped for a moment as fear clawed its way up my throat.

  “Kellen?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Maeve’s expression soured for a moment before it cleared and she continued to crack open her egg.

  “Your ungrateful sister and the tracker remain unaccounted for. However, that will soon change. My things arrive today.” Her gaze swept over me in scrutiny. “Take a proper bath and put on an appropriate dress. Be ready within the hour.” She finished her egg and left the room.

  “Come,” Heather said. “We’ll help you wash.”

  I was ready to crawl into bed by the time we were done but knew I couldn’t. With Heather’s assistance, I dressed in one of my mourning gowns. The tight lacing made breathing less painful, and the tea Catherine once again made me drink alleviated most of the other aches. By the time I left the kitchen, I felt almost normal. However, like so many other things in my life, that was only an illusion.

  The swelling in my cheek had increased overnight, making it difficult to fully open my eye. It served as a reminder that, although the pain was gone and I was once again dressed, I was far from the old Eloise.

  Maeve paced the length of the foyer twice before noticing my presence. When she did, she stopped moving and studied me. A kind and caring smile lit her face.

  “You look lovely, Eloise. A picture of refined beauty.”

  My stomach twisted at her words delivered with such sincerity. Did she truly think bruised and swollen was a picture of beauty? If so, I feared what Kellen’s and my future would hold.

  “I’m so nervous,” she said. “It’s been so long. Well over six months since I last saw them.”

  “Them?”

  She ignored me and went to the door.

  “It feels as if a piece of myself is finally returning. As if I’m about to be whole again.”

  That I could understand. Since Kellen left, it felt like a piece of myself was missing, too.

  Maeve checked her reflection in the foyer mirror and met my gaze in the glass.

  “So many things will change once the wagons get here. But your place won’t. Do you understand, Eloise? You will remain important to me. Always.”

  I nodded. Like her previous statement, there was a scary truth lacing her words. How and why was I important to her? Was I only another sacrifice, or was I something more? I was about to give voice to my first question when the sound of several conveyances rumbling into the yard caught my attention.

  Maeve’s gaze swung to the door, and with giddy enthusiasm, she moved to open it. I trailed in her wake as she stepped outside.

  A carriage pulled to a stop in front of the door. Behind it, three loaded wagons did the same. Before I could try to guess what all the oilcloth wrapped objects might be, the carriage door burst open, and a young woman dressed in a fine green gown emerged.

  “Mama!” she shouted with joy as she ran at Maeve. Maeve caught her up in a tight hug. The girl’s light brown hair swung slightly with the impact. Petite and slightly rounded, the girl didn’t look much like her mother. It gave me hope.

  “I’ve missed you, my darling Porcia,” Maeve said softly.

  She lifted her head and looked over her daughter’s shoulders at the second young woman exiting the carriage. This one looked much more like Maeve with her tall, slender figure. However, where Maeve was dark, this one was golden, like me. She smiled at Maeve and gave her a more discreet hug.

  “Hello, Mama,” she said.

  “Hello, my sweet Cecilia.”

  The three separated and turned to where I waited on the stairs.

  “Girls, I would like to introduce you to one of your new stepsisters,” Maeve said.

  My breath caught, and I fought not to stare at Maeve in horror. How could I have forgotten? Father had married this monster, giving her more power over me than a set of chains.

  “This is Eloise. Eloise, these are your new sisters, Porcia and Cecilia.”

  Cecilia smiled at me serenely as she came and gave me a firm hug. I involuntarily gasped at the pain that speared my rib cage. She loosened her hold. However, instead of asking if I was all right, she pulled back and placed a kiss on my swollen cheek. Had I been uninjured, it would have felt like a true welcome. However, since she chose to kiss me right where the swelling was the worst, I knew she was just like her mother.

  She released me and stepped back for Porcia to embrace me. The younger girl’s hold wasn’t as tight as her sister’s, but it still created an ache in my ribs despite the tea. When she kissed me, she chose the same spot as her sister, though.

  “It warms my heart to see you girls welcome Eloise to our family.” Maeve smiled at us then looked over the wagons.

  “Is everything in order?” she asked.

  “It is, Mama,” Cecilia
said. The girl motioned to the men who had been sitting in their seats staring straight ahead. At her signal, they climbed down from their perches and started untying the ropes securing the items in the wagon beds.

  “Come inside, girls,” Maeve said. “I’m sure you’re ready for tea and a seat that doesn’t jostle you.”

  Maeve left the door open behind us as we made our way into the house. The first man followed us inside, carrying in a small table which he set in the foyer before I entered the dining room.

  “Catherine,” Maeve called.

  Catherine came straight away.

  “Yes, Lady Grimmoire?”

  “Tea please. And biscuits if you have them.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Her gaze never once flicked to me as she turned and disappeared into the kitchen once more.

  “I have a room cleared for one of you,” Maeve said. “The other still needs attention.”

  I’d never asked Kellen what they were doing in Father’s room. But it made sense now, that Maeve would want it cleared so she could sleep there. I hated that any of them would be sleeping in mother’s room. Even my new sisters.

  “I’m sure the men outside will be happy to help us,” Cecilia said.

  “Very good. Now tell me about your journey. Was there any trouble?”

  “None. We were very selective about our drivers. They’ve served us well along the way.”

  Maeve beamed at her daughters.

  “It’s so good to be together again. I hated leaving you behind.”

  “It was necessary,” Porcia said. “We understood.”

  Catherine arrived with a tea tray and biscuits.

  “Eloise, will you pour for us?” Maeve asked.

  It was the task of a hostess to serve, one I didn’t mind performing under normal circumstances. As it was, it hurt to stand, pour, then reach with cups extended. But I was sure Maeve knew that. They all accepted their tea with words of thanks and kind smiles. When I sat, I took a moment to catch my breath. They waited, watching me.

  “Serve yourself, dear, so we can start,” Maeve said gently.

  No matter what tone she used, it was an order. My hand shook with exhaustion as I poured my cup and placed a biscuit on my plate.

  “Well done, dear,” she said. She sipped her tea and glanced out the door.

  “Would you like me to tell the men to unload it straight away?” Cecilia asked.

  “No. That’s not necessary. It’s only good to hear its call again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

  I kept my eyes fixed on my tea, taking a small sip while retaining the calm, relaxed expression I’d kept since the night before. It didn’t surprise me that Maeve could hear something I couldn’t. Whatever called to her was likely magical in nature, and likely just as deadly as her necklace.

  They finished their tea in silence while I focused on the footfalls of the men as they came and went with pieces of furniture.

  “Come, girls. It’s time to show you your new home.”

  Maeve rose as did her daughters. Since I already knew this home, I remained seated. Maeve’s gaze swung to me.

  “You’re one of my girls too, Eloise. Never doubt that. Come along.”

  I stood and followed on shaky legs. Perhaps when Maeve finally let me return to the kitchen, I would ask for another cold bath.

  Maeve showed her daughters the sitting room, Father’s small study which was rarely used, and the kitchen where Heather and Catherine were working to prepare the midday meal. After that, Maeve led us upstairs. There weren’t that many steps, but each one brought a new level of agony. Twice, I had to stop to breathe. Maeve turned to watch me, waiting until I reached the top before continuing.

  “This will be your room, Cecilia,” Maeve said. “I know it will be snug, but you will fit in it better than your sister.”

  Cecilia’s smile sharpened a little, and her gaze darted to Porcia who watched her toes.

  “Do you see something interesting down there?” Maeve asked.

  The girl’s gaze immediately snapped up to her mother’s.

  “No, Mama.”

  “Good. Would you like to see where you will sleep?”

  The girl nodded and smiled. We followed Maeve toward Mother’s room. However, she didn’t stop at that door. She continued to the room I shared with Kellen and opened the door.

  “As I said, it still needs to be cleaned out. Perhaps you should start on that while Cecilia and I direct the men.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Porcia said, looking a little pale.

  “Very good. Come along Cecilia and Eloise.” Maeve turned and walked away. I lingered a moment, staring longingly at my bed.

  “She’s waiting,” Porcia said softly.

  When I met her eyes, there was no pity or kindness there.

  Turning, I limped toward the stairway where Maeve and Cecilia did indeed wait.

  “I apologize for keeping you,” I said.

  “My,” said Cecilia. “You do speak. I’m ever so grateful you’re not a mute. I’m looking forward to having another sister with whom I can speak.”

  “As am I,” I said serenely.

  Cecilia’s smile deepened.

  “Come. I’m anxious to set our household to rights,” Maeve said. She glided down the stairs and started looking at the pieces waiting to be carried upstairs.

  Cecilia quirked a brow at me and executed the same graceful descent. When she reached the bottom, she turned. I smiled, ignoring the pain in my face, and smoothly moved down the steps. Slowly. Cecilia turned to her mother when I reached the bottom.

  “I fear I packed it too well, and it may take them some time to unload it. Do you mind if I borrow one of the men to start setting up my room?”

  “Not at all, dear. Keep an eye on your sister and ensure she’s making progress in her room.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Cecilia nodded and walked out the door.

  Despite the men moving in and out of the room, it felt as though I’d suddenly been left alone with Maeve. The long wooden rod from a wardrobe rested against the stair railing. My fingers itched to pick it up and bash the woman over her head. My uncertainty of successfully killing her stopped me from attempting it.

  “What are you thinking, Eloise?” she asked.

  I could feel the compulsion to answer and almost let my shock show. Catching myself just in time, I smiled serenely, already having learned it was what she expected.

  “That I’m not strong enough in my current state. And I’m sorry for it.”

  She studied me for a moment then held out her hand. I accepted it, acting the part she wanted me to play.

  “Sweet child, it pains me to see you unhappy. Let us agree never to argue again.”

  Did she truly believe that was what had happened? There’d been no arguing. Only her killing and subsequent commands to hurt me.

  “Yes, Maeve,” I said.

  “Mama,” she corrected.

  I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. She would never be my mother.

  She watched me intently, and I saw the moment an angry light started to grow in her eyes. She reached up to her necklace, stroking the stone with her free hand.

  It’s an act, I reminded myself. Nothing this woman does or says has any true meaning. To keep my sister safe, I would play her game.

  “Yes, Mama,” I said softly.

  “It pleases me to hear you say that. Go now. Check on the midday meal, and rest until it’s ready.” I wanted to ask her where she expected me to rest but caught the knowing look in her eyes.

  “Yes, Mama.” She released me, seemingly satisfied with my mock obedience.

  I went to the kitchen and found Catherine and Heather sitting at the table, just waiting. They reminded me of the wagon drivers, and that worried me.

  “Maeve—” Remembering their warning about what I said to them, I started again. “Mama asked that I come in here and check on the midday meal then rest.”

  Catherine and Heather exchanged a look.
>
  “Mama?” Heather asked.

  “She showed me a marriage certificate she and my father both signed before he left.” I faced the fire quickly, hiding my face as the events before Maeve’s arrival fell into place. Father’s indifference regarding Mother’s passing. His need to leave immediately. His choice to go to the Dark Forest. None of it had been him. Somehow, Maeve controlled him. She hadn’t only killed one of my parents. She’d wanted to kill both. Why? Why kill both of them and not Kellen or me?

  I shook with rage. Maeve had ripped apart my world, and I needed to learn why.

  “Sit, miss,” Heather said softly. “Try to rest as she wanted. Things will be better for you if you listen.”

  I nodded, knowing she was right and that she was only trying to protect me from an additional beating. Yet, I struggled to be calm enough to do as she suggested. I wanted to prowl the expanse of the kitchen and plot all the ways I could bring suffering to Maeve.

  “It’s here!” Maeve’s voice rang out. “Cecilia, Porcia, Eloise.”

  Summoned, I had no choice but to answer.

  I left the kitchen, my anger seething behind my carefully composed façade. In the main entry, Maeve stood before a wrapped object. As tall as she and twice as wide, the flat piece leaned against a wall.

  Porcia and Cecilia made their way down the stairs and reached their mother before me. I watched Maeve reverently run her hand down the oilcloth.

  “You’ve come so far,” she said softly. “Faithful, true, and unbreakable. The one thing on which I can always depend.”

  I glanced at Porcia and Cecilia from under my lashes, but neither seemed bothered by their mother’s affection for an inanimate object.

  Maeve cut the thin ropes holding the oilcloth in place and slowly drew the covering off. Underneath, a clouded panel of glass reflected our murky images. Its thick wood frame bore evidence of extravagant workmanship. Carved decorative swirls merged with images of animals and plants. It should have been a thing of beauty. Yet, my stomach twisted while looking at it.

  “There you are,” Maeve said softly. “How I’ve longed for you.”