Sinderella (4 page)

I didn't know it would come true. I looked down on my crystal shoes and stunning gown and smiled. My mother, who had died when I was quite young, had come back for me. Even if it was just that once, it was spectacular and magical.

If it was even real.

I still wasn't convinced that it was. It felt like a dream, but one I liked. So I didn't mind not waking up from it. I would live it instead of worry about it. Maybe I would end up stuck there in that dream and never have to face the reality of the outside world again.

The forest grew lighter as the carriage approached the castle. When we were through the gates, I smiled. It was the strangest feeling, like she had blessed me with her magic and I felt free. I wasn't even worried that I would see my family. I was dressed so finely and the halls would be crowded. I was about to enjoy an evening for the first time in a long time.

The walls of the courtyard were lit with torches and lanterns. It was breathtaking. I couldn't imagine what lay inside. When I rode past the ponds, I marveled at the illuminated water that was lit up by some kind of lantern on it, floating. Everything sparkled with riches and glamour, something I had not seen since my father’s death.

The coach stopped and my stomach sank. My nerves were back. A man walked to me as my doorman opened the door. The man smiled and offered me a white lacy mask. “Milady.” I touched it and imaged it would make my eyes seem as though they had wings.

I took it and smiled back, “Thank you.” He had no idea how much I needed the mask. I held it up to my eyes and gave the man, who had once been a mouse, a look. “Can you tie it for me?”

He gave me a blank stare. My cheeks blushed when I realized he might not understand me. I looked at the man who had given it to me. He bowed slightly, “Of course, it would be an honor.” He stepped behind me and laced the mask to my face. “You have no escort?”

I shook my head, “No. Mine got ill at the last minute.” It was a fast lie. Luckily, I had tons of practice in that, avoiding Drusilla’s violent temper. I touched my fingertips to the mask. It was small and covered only my eyes. The holes seemed small, but I could see everything. The lacy sides swept away from my eyes, like a butterfly’s wings.

He stepped beside me and offered me his arm. “Allow me?”

I took his thick arm and let him lead me to the grand staircase and up to the castle doors. They were opened wide and when we reached them I could hear the music. The evening smelled of wine and ale and delicious food and flowers. When he walked me inside of the castle, I stopped, stilled by the sheer size and beauty of the room. It was nothing but a foyer, and yet it was the most magnificent one I had ever seen. It was as if the architecture of it flowed like a song or poetry. Every angle was met with a soft curve or a decorative piece of trim. It made your eyes travel to the next wondrous thing.

The whole room felt larger than our very large estate. I felt like a pebble on the floor, insignificant and tiny. The man led me down the hall to a small set of stairs. As I climbed each stair, the knot in my stomach grew larger. My hands shook and my breath became shallow. I was going to pass out, I was certain of it.

But the moment I reached the top of the stairs, I was again stunned into stillness. I was captivated and awed by what I saw. The room below us moved to the music. The flow of impeccably dressed people was enthralling, and I was taken hostage by the colors of the vibrant gowns. They pulled me in, charming me as a snake charmer might in the alleys of the markets.

There were tables of food laid out. Drink flowed from every vantage point. There were white linens and massive, brandy-colored drapes. The floors were shiny marble. The fires roared and the lanterns lit the room to create shadows.

I got lost in the swirling dresses of the beautiful ladies being led by the handsome men. The masked faces only made for more intrigue and amazement. Each lady was wearing a white lacy mask and each man a black satin one, showing only their lips and foreheads.

“So beautiful,” I whispered. My escort leaned into my nape. “Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He placed a soft kiss there.

I blushed again, looking down at the stairs to the floor. He squeezed my hand. “Will you be all right from here, on your own?”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “No, thank you. I have always wanted to escort a beautiful girl into a ball.”

He turned and left me there at the top of the stairs. I gripped to the railing and started my slow decent to the bottom of the stairs. The huge bell of my dress and the crystal shoes made me nervous on the marble stairs. I didn't even want to think about the huge crowd of people; I imagined they were all staring at me. I closed my eyes and took a breath when I reached the bottom stairs. My hands clutched to my stomach.

“I’m not sure that helps. Try this.”

I looked up at the person speaking to me, seeing a glass of something amber-colored being offered. He had nice hands, very strong but clean. Not like the hands I was used to. I wrapped my trembling fingers around the glass and took it. “Thank you, sir.”

He bowed slightly. I looked up into his dark-blue eyes. I knew him from somewhere.
My dreams maybe.
He had lips I could imagine pressed against my own and a square jaw I wanted to take into my hands and hold.

Instant attraction caught me off guard. I could see his lips speaking, but I didn't hear a sound. I just noticed the way his lips moved and his eyes darted about the room, as if he were uncomfortable like me. He had a dark mask, like all the men. It contrasted nicely with his blue eyes and dark hair. His olive skin and wide shoulders
were
my favorite feature. He seemed dark compared
to me, my skin and dress being so pale
. I often wished for the healthy glow the farmers got. It didn't matter how many hours I spent outside, the sun never kissed my skin.

He had a broad chest and a strong look about him, but I imagined he hadn’t worked a day in his life. He stopped speaking. “You aren’t listening to me at all, are you?”

I swallowed hard, “I’m sorry. It’s my first ball. I’m overwhelmed.” I instantly regretted everything that fell from my lips. “I’m not used to being around such large crowds. I prefer my own hearth and a good book.”

He smiled wider. “A homebody? I didn't expect that when I watched you on the stairs. You look so fashionable. Compared to the other dresses in the room, yours is unequaled. I knew the moment I saw you on those stairs, there was something very special about you.”

I blushed and looked down, shaking my head. “Oh, I don't think so. Maybe the dress is.”

His hand encompassed
mine, taking the drink I had yet to sip from and pulling me onto the dance floor
. “I wish for you to dance. As it is your very first ball, I should like to be your very first dance.”

I couldn't argue
,
I didn't have the chance. I was swept into his arms and dancing before I knew it. My mother and father had taught me when I was a small girl, but I barely recalled the steps.

His hand slid to the bottom of my back, almost to the precipice of my backside.
Almost too low.
He pressed me into him with force, but his hand that cupped mine was gentle, as if I danced with two different people.

My chest squished against his, making me instantly uncomfortable, and yet . . . I imagined I would give him anything he asked for. He smiled at me and I sighed, again caught by the perfection of his face.

“What’s your name?”

“Ella.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me
mine
?”

I smiled. “What’s your name?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

Oh dear God, we did know one another and I had forgotten him. I blushed. “I am sorry, my lord. I rarely meet with people.”

“You have very unique shoes, I couldn’t help but notice them on the stairs. Are they glass?”

“I think crystal.”

“Where does one find a crystal shoe? Don’t tell me, elves make them.”

I laughed but elves made more sense than where I had actually gotten them.

A man with dark-blond hair tried to cut into our embrace. “Excuse me, may I cut in?” The man I was dancing with shook his head. “No.” He turned to spin me but the other man would not relent. “Don’t be a pain in the arse, cousin.”

The man with the dark hair sighed, almost growling. He stepped aside, giving me one last look before the man with the dark-blond hair swept me off. I looked for the dark-haired man, but I couldn't see him. I glanced up at the new man I was dancing with. “That was a bit rude.”

He smiled. “I know. He deserves it.” He was handsome in a way I couldn’t believe. He swept me up, holding me tighter in his arms and we were off, dancing about the room.

After a few minutes I noticed the man with the dark-blue eyes staring at me. He was brooding in a corner, sipping a drink. He looked annoyed from behind his mask, nodding his head at me and then walking away.

I almost felt sad seeing him go. His dark-blue eyes and his wicked smile had made me happy somehow.

I looked back at the man dancing with me. He had a handsome face and dark-blond hair, and somehow he looked similar to the other man with the dark hair who I had just been dancing with.

Of course—they were cousins.

The man holding me looked distracted for a second and then shook his head. “I think we shall have to finish this conversation out of doors. I have a desperate desire to finish it, and yet, I can see someone is trying to catch my attention for another matter.”

I scowled. “What conversation?”

He laughed and danced us farther into the crowd, weaving us through the people until we reached the patio doors. He slipped through the open one and pulled me out onto the large deck. Once we were outside, he dragged me across the deck, down the steps to the veranda, and out across the lawns.

I tugged and gasped for breath. The dress was constricting. “Please, sir. I am a lady. We must go back.”

He pulled harder, “No, we must hide. My father is desperate for me to be acquainted with some fool of a girl. Something such as Angela or Angelique. They are all the same, I should know.” His eyes were dark when he looked back at me.

It took me a second, but when I pieced it together I winced. “You are the prince?”

He stopped, pressing my back against a large vine-covered lattice. “I am whatever man I need to be to win your heart. I knew it the moment I saw you—we were made for each other. You are the answer to my heart’s beating cry. You were the most beautiful girl in that room.” He seemed a bit hasty and quite drunk, but he was beautiful and I loved hearing such sweet words.

I shook my head, “You have not imagined me, Your Highness—trust me.” I couldn't tell him I was a servant. I needed to get away from him before he realized it. My pot-scrubbing hands would give me away. I would be executed for impersonating a lady. I gulped but he ran his hand across my cheek, lighting a fire in my soul. “We are made for each other. I know this. Is there no way for me to persuade you?”

I shook my head again, fighting tears or the deep want I had to confess my mistake in coming to the ball. How could this have been the night my mother had planned for me? Had she not been my mother, but an evil sprite from the forest, sent to trick me? Oh God. What if Drusilla had paid for me to be tricked so I might be executed? My throat went dry. Imagine the horrors she could wield if she knew a witch.

He cupped my face. “You look so frightened. Are you upset now that you know who I am?”

I nodded.

He chuckled. “Have you not come here with the hopes I would wed you?”

I sighed. “I am promised to another. A duke. I wasn't supposed to come, I snuck here.”

He gripped my arms. “Promised to another? What duke? I will have the agreement bought out, and you will be mine.”

My war with the hot tears filling my eyes was lost. They spilled from my eyes. I couldn't name the duke without revealing I was a servant girl. I couldn't tell him a magical sprite had sent me here as a cruel joke. So I said nothing.

He wiped my tears, brushing his fingers along my cheeks. “You will not tell me the name of the duke?”

I twitched a no.

“You are the most honorable woman I have ever met.” He lowered his face, brushing his lips against my damp cheek. “You’re making me senseless. I must have you. Say you will be mine.”

I contemplated for far less time than I should have. I nodded against the warmth of his face. “I want you to have me, first.”

“If I have you, I will keep you. You will be my princess, I know it.” He made a growl, scooping me up into his arms. One of my shoes dropped from my feet. I pointed, “My shoe!”

He growled louder. “We can get it on the way back.” He never spoke again, just carried me to a small cottage on the edge of the lawns. He opened the door and closed it, leaning his back against it. We stayed there like that, silent, for a moment before he whispered. “Are you certain?”

“I am.” I answered before my fears spoke their answer.

He carried me to a bed in the corner of the small cottage and laid me down gently. He stood over me, looking down in the moonlight. He was a sight to behold. He undid his jacket as if contemplating every button and slung it on the end of the bed. He pulled off his tunic and unlaced his shirt. When he was finally free of his several layers, I was stunned still again.

In the glistening light of the moon, he was beautiful. His body was rigid and hard, his arms thick and strong. He had no hair on his chest. I swung my legs and got to a sitting position, struggling like a turtle to get off of the bed. When I was finally standing, I ran my hands across the soft skin I had imagined would be hard to the touch. The thick muscles underneath were hard, but his skin was warm and delicate almost.