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Authors: Sophie Starr,Tara Brown

Sinderella (6 page)

BOOK: Sinderella
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Chapter Six
 
 

Ironically, the view from the room was of the palace. I could even see the forest’s edge where I suspected the cabin was.
The cabin where my heart was still sitting.
I could see every aspect of his face, apart from his cheekbones and eyebrows because the mask had hidden them from me. But his lips, jaw, eyes, and hair still had me captive. The way his voice played me like a cello, and the bashful look he got on his face when we started our affair. That look was replaced by what seemed to be confidence and even amusement at my naivety.

I couldn't help but also think of his cousin. The man with the smile that made me
wonder
what he had been thinking. A cousin of a prince must have been royalty too. I wished I knew them still, like I had when I was a girl.

I sat in the window for two days awaiting either rescue or more forced intercourse.

Neither came. I was a bit disappointed by that. I had hoped for rescue and my nether regions had hoped Hedrick would be back to play, if the prince didn’t come. It was disturbing to think that way, but he was remarkable at making you like deeds you should not.

No, only Angelique ever entered the room. Drusilla knew I wouldn't have any help from her daughter. I glanced at the puddle she had made thus far with my food as she dumped it on the floor. My mouth and even my eyes were dry. I contemplated eating from the floor several times but I held strong.

The sound of the lock turning in the door startled me. I would have smiled to see Bethany, but when she entered my lips cracked and bled as I attempted the grin.

“Oh God’s light, what has she done? Look at the state of you. My sister, you are dying. You have need of water and food. Here, let me help you.” She lifted me off of the floor and carried me to the bed. I felt a sickening sort of hunger, like if I ate I would sick it up immediately. But she sat next to me and spooned small amounts of broth into my chapped lips. She smelled pretty, it was refreshing compared to the stench of the rotting food.

“You have brought many of your troubles upon yourself. Why did you provoke her? She found you a duchy—you will be higher than she is in status.”

I glanced at her, weakly. “He is nearly dead and plans to torment me until he does die.”

She laughed. “But he will die, sister. He will die and you will be left a duchy. Pray that he gets you with child so that you are able to keep the lands and castle.”

I laughed as well, but my dry throat made it hurt a little. “I pray he dies before I have a chance to wed him.”

Her laugh was cut short. “Then that will have to take place before tomorrow night. Mother has called for the priest to be at the chapel tonight to bless you and Lord Hedrick before you wed tomorrow. The duke is planning on taking you home by carriage after the ceremony tomorrow.”

I lost all ability to rationalize or comprehend. I truly was being trapped into a marriage. I truly was going to be sold like cattle to a man who would see me as nothing but a toy. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried to surrender to the fate I had been dealt, I couldn't. My hunger and madness and despair had become too large. A great lump built in my throat and when I tried to speak, it released. I shook with violent sobs and desperate sadness.

She wrapped her arms around me and held me as I cried, like a babe clinging to her mother.

She stroked my head. “Come, Mother is frantic right now about the state of the house. The king is searching homes, looking for the lost lady who has won over the prince’s heart. Mother thinks it might be Angelique. She is trying to ensure we are both ready for when the king’s men arrive to test us. Apparently, they are escorting the prince, searching. You must be cleaned for your ceremony and it lies to me to help you.”

My heart was in my throat again. He was looking for me. He wanted me. I had a dowry and was an eligible lady for him.

I nodded, not wanting to say anything to her. “I need to get ready. I am filthy and sickly. I need bread and meat to regain my strength.”

She helped me walk to the door. “We shall get that after you bathe. You stink to the high heavens.”

She helped me to the washroom and left me there with a soapy basin of water. I cleaned, staring out at the castle. I would be safe by
nightfall, that
was a certainty.

I wrapped in the large bath sheet and tiptoed from the washroom. I heard a noise I hadn’t been prepared for, someone making love. It was a sound I had never heard in our house.

I snuck down the hallway to the rooms on the end. The noise was coming from Drusilla’s room. I dropped to my knee and put my eye up to the keyhole. I almost gasped, seeing her on all fours on the floor in her room. Hedrick was behind her, pumping into her wildly. That was shocking to see, but not nearly as shocking as seeing Rosemund on her back naked with Drusilla’s face buried between her legs.

She was completely naked and her breasts were swaying back and forth along the rug beneath her. Rose grabbed her head, moving it the way she wanted, entangling her many rings in Drusilla’s hair.

“You like this, don't you, you old bitch? You like getting fucked, huh? How is she, sister?”

Rose nodded. “She has improved, brother. We have not seen our dear little sister in ages. We have missed you, Silla.”

I gagged. Dear God. She knew my fate because she had lived it. I backed away from the keyhole and hurried down the hallway. She had done that to me on purpose.

I actually felt sorry for her. The depth of their madness was far worse than I had ever imagined. Bethany found me in the hall. She stopped and wrapped an arm around me. “I thought the wash might make you feel better. You look even more pale.”

I shuddered recalling what I had seen. I gave Bethany a sideways glance. “What was your father’s name again?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Mother always said his name was Henry, but Lord Hedrick told me yesterday I resembled my dear Aunt Rosemund greatly. That I had grown into as fine a young lady as she had once been.”

I smiled weakly. “Your father must have been related to them. You should stay away from Hedrick though. He’s a very disturbed old man.”

She nodded as she led me into my room where a fine plate of food was sitting for me. “I did get that impression of him. Very nasty piece of work.”

I pulled on a clean shift and ate my meal by the fire. There was no going back from the information I had. Even if the prince never came, I would die before I would marry that filthy man.

 
 
 
 
Chapter Seven
 
 
 

The sun was setting on the day I had spent wishing I could cling to each hour of, in hopes the prince would arrive on our doorstep. I had hidden my crystal shoe under the stairs of the back door, in case he didn’t recognize me.

But he never came. No one came.

Angelique was as antsy as I was; she had hoped the prince had chosen her, which made about as much sense as nothing. They hadn’t even spoken the night of the ball.

I sauntered into the kitchen and plopped onto a wooden chair. Abbi gave me a long look. “What has been eating you all day long? I have seen it, on your face. You look haunted.”

I glanced, nervously, at the entrance of the room. “Drusilla is their sister—the Greys’. I suspect Angelique and Bethany are Hedrick’s children.”

She gasped. “God’s light¸ that can’t be true.”

I nodded. “I caught them in a compromising situation. Hedrick was taking Drusilla from the back, like a hound would. He said we have missed you little sister. The worst part was where Drusilla’s face was placed.”

Abbi’s face was crumpled up in horror but she managed to get out one word, “Where?”

I gagged and shuddered as the image flooded my mind. “Rosemund’s cunny.”

“Their own sister?” Abbi covered her lips with her fingertips. “That poor woman, it’s no wonder she’s so evil. She has been born and bred of it.”

“My sentiments exactly. She has suffered long and hard at their hands, I imagine. Now she wishes me to share in that fate.”

“Run. Run now.”

I looked at her. She was pale as ice and trembling. I lowered my face. “I am going to run tonight, in the dead of night. He has inflicted all he will on me. I will fling myself from the tower before I allow one of his hands to be placed upon me.” I looked out the window at the fading day and knew it was time to go be blessed. “But now I have to away to the church and be blessed. Not that it will help, I fear I have been damaged beyond what God can heal.”

Abbi snatched one of my hands. “Never say that. God knows you were not a willing participant.”

I blushed. I knew what God knew. I knew I was beyond help. Hedrick had a way with a woman’s body—he had a way of making you like sinful deeds you didn’t want to. He had an ability to make you beg for acts you had sworn never to do. No. I knew what God knew. I knew what I was.

Drusilla stomped along the floor above our heads, shouting my name in her shrill voice. I waved at Abbi and sauntered to my last family gathering.

When I saw her, I couldn’t help but see what she truly was. There was a pity and empathy for her I couldn’t shake. I wanted to hug her and tell her it wasn’t her fault. I knew of their ways. But she griped my arm and shoved me through the door. The pity sloughed off and the empathy left as quickly as it had come.

I staggered out, being shoved mercilessly. The duke and his sister were already in their large carriage. He never got out to help me inside. My dislike for him grew further. What man didn’t help his bride-to-be into a carriage?

Then again, what man had carnal knowledge of his sisters?

Not a good one.

I didn’t dare let my mind wander, fearful it would take a trip back to the horrors I had seen in Drusilla’s room.

That would teach me never to peek through a keyhole.

The ride was bumpy and silent. No one spoke or even bothered to look out the windows. It was dark inside with the curtains drawn.

The church was a short ride. We might have walked had my groom been but ten years younger, if not twenty.

A man with round, ruby cheeks opened the door for us. He was jolly and plump like a cherub. I didn’t know him. “My Lord
Grey,
how was your trip?”

The duke ignored him and got out of the carriage first, Rose next, then Drusilla, and I followed last.

“His holiness is inside.”

Hedrick walked to the doors, pausing and waiting for the chubby man to open the door. I rolled my eyes. Even the king might have opened that door.

Inside, was the priest I knew, Father
John.
His eyes looked intently at me, like he was seeking an answer. He was a kindly man, and I assumed he was distressed about my stepmother’s dealings.

I tried to smile as politely as I was able, without just shouting at him for sanctuary. Or confessing my rather large list of sins I had accumulated in the fortnight since my last confession.

His eyes glistened when he spoke, “Dear sweet Ella. How are you?”

I maintained my smile but said nothing. What could I say? He nodded at the duke and his sisters. “Wonderful to see you all.” He didn’t add for such a remarkable occasion. He didn’t say another word. Drusilla smiled bitterly. “Let’s get this over with. I have to be home for when the prince comes for my beautiful Angelique.”

Father John clasped his hands. “How wonderful, she is the missing lady. I know the prince has been to see his holiness several times in desperation. He is almost unfit to be seen in public. He refuses to eat or sleep and forces the guards to journey with him, one house at a time. What a happy ending for Angelique to be the girl who stole his heart at the ball.” I could see the Father didn’t mean what he was saying. He looked desperately sad that one of Drusilla’s offspring would be the lucky girl. If only he knew it was
me
.

My insides clenched but I maintained my composure. Drusilla never corrected him. She would hope he would spread the rumors of Angelique being the bride-to-be, and hope they became true.

“Yes, let’s hurry things along. I am ravenous again.” The duke took my hand and led me to the end of the aisle. I cringed feeling his gloved hand upon mine.

We knelt before the statue of Mary on the small rests. Father John came down the aisle and began to sing his blessings upon us, whilst marking us with holy water. He pressed particularly hard on me, like he was trying to tell me something. I opened an eye to see him giving me a wild-eyed look. He sang and slipped a hand into his black robes, pulling out a small envelope. He passed it to me, singing louder as he handed it to me. I tucked it into my dress hoping no one had seen. But his eyes never left their faces. He was watchful as we committed our scandalous act.

We finished the ceremony and before the priest could utter another word, I was dragged back to the carriage. My insides burned, wondering if they knew he had slipped me something. I assumed not when I was shoved into the house. “Go to the tower bedroom. We can’t be burdened explaining whom you are when the prince arrives.”

I curtseyed and noticed a mouse crossing the floor. I scooped him up and carried him upstairs, stroking his back. “Hello, Gus. I hoped I would see you. We have to leave tonight, my dear friend.”

The duke and his sisters shouted below at one another, in prep for the royal family that they were certain would show.

I winced when I heard Drusilla’s shrill voice, “I have heard she wore a silver-blue dress. Go and find one, Angelique. Your hair needs to be up. The girl had her hair up.”

Angelique gave it back. “She was a fair-haired girl, Mother. Not dark like me.”

“Run flour through your hair, you willful girl.
Bethany, you as well.
Perhaps the girl wasn’t that pretty and you stand as good a chance as any.”

I hated Drusilla.

I hated the way she made Bethany be the ugly stepsister, when it was clear who was ugly in our family. Angelique had her mother’s dark
heart,
they were a pair of the ugliest women ever.

I sat inside of the tower on a bale of hay and stroked my mouse’s soft back. He squeaked, happy to see me, I imagined.

I waited until I was certain I was to be left alone before I pulled the envelope from my dress. I lit the single candle in the room. My name was upon the envelope. I opened it to find a letter.

 

Ella,

You must flee. I have prayed on this, and though it is disobedient and wrong, I believe this is the choice God would will for you. While you are at church being blessed, Abbi was given a stash of silver coins. We have taken up donations. The good people of our town came to me, seeking my interference in your wedding. I have spoken on your behalf but I feel as though it has fallen on deaf ears. Drusilla will not relent in this matter. So I cannot abide by this. I must offer the aid I believe in my heart you require. You are a Lamb of
God,
HE has not forsaken you and neither will I. You will find sanctuary in a nunnery. Go to them and repent for your sins and become a sister. It is your only hope.

Your
ever faithful
friend,

 

Father John.

 

Hot tears spilled from my cheeks. They would not see me suffer. The townspeople loved me? Though I had hardly strayed from the house in the last ten years, they remembered the girl I once was. I sniffled and looked back at the door. The sun had set and in the dark of the forest I could hide, easily.

I stood, clutching the letter and my small friend. I took a long look at the room where I had spent many miserable nights, sent to freeze as a punishment for asking for more food or playing instead of working.

My
father had always meant for it to be a room that I could sit in and play
, on hot summer days. He had never intended for it to be a room where I would suffer endlessly.

I blew the candle out and turned from the room, taking the stairs softly.

When I got to the kitchen Abbi passed me a bag.

I looked down. “There is a crystal shoe under the back stairs. If the prince ever comes here, tell him who I am and that I never meant to hurt him. Don’t let them force Angelique on him. Tell him it was me that night.”

Tears spilled from her eyes as she nodded. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Thank you for my life, Abbi. You saved me.” I took the bag and walked out the back door. When my feet hit the gravel, they ran. I ran hard, taking the same road I had when I had come home from the castle.

I held Gus tightly, not too tight but enough that I didn’t fear anything because he was there, and I
wasn’t
alone.

The road was long and dark, but I ignored everything until I heard a carriage coming up behind me. I looked to see which way I should run, in case it was the duke but before I could flee, a man shouted, “HALT! HALT IN THE NAME OF THE KING!”

I froze. I placed Gus in my bag with my coins and bread. When the carriage drew near, the guard shouted. “It is but a servant girl, Your Grace.”

“I WISH TO SEE THEM ALL!”

I nearly wept hearing his voice. I trembled, as the carriage got closer. He opened the door, taking one look at me. “Come inside. I will not harm you.” He was my prince. Perhaps a shell of the man he had been only days before. Now he looked rough and tired.

I nodded, not certain if I should just tell him of my lies and betrayals, or if I should pretend to still be the servant girl. He sneered and I hardly recognized him. He was unshaven and drunk perhaps. He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the carriage. I was plunked onto a seat and my crystal shoe was shoved in my face. “Try it on. I know it’s foolish, but humor me.”

My lower lip trembled. He sighed. “I apologize. I have not been myself as of late. Do as I ask.” He grabbed a bottle next to him and drank from it. I could swear the panicked look on his face almost made me feel better. He needed me as much as I needed him. But if he knew the secret of my being at the castle, I would be killed.

“My lord . . .”

He nodded, taking another drink from the bottle. “Try it on. It is a unique shoe, for a unique girl.”

I lifted my foot and pulled off my filthy shoe. I slid the crystal shoe on my foot with ease, as it had been made for me.

He sighed. “I know. It doesn’t fit, right? It never fits. My father thinks I have gone mad. He thinks there was no such girl, but I know others saw her.” He gazed out of the open door to the carriage and sighed again. He was reliving something. It brought tears to my eyes to see him this way.

I hated myself for what I had done to him. I lifted my foot. “It fits, my lord.”

He looked at me, scrutinizing my every feature, and yet, still anxious. He tossed the bottle out the carriage door and grabbed my hands. He pulled me to him, smelling my hair and caressing my neck with his lips. “Are you the girl?”

“Yes, my lord.”

He shook his head. “How? How is it possible? How are you a peasant? What magic is this? What is your name?”

“Ella Angleton.” I started to tremble, desperate for words, but all I found were tears.

He pulled me back. “It is you! Ella, tell me I am not confused and that you are real.”

I nodded my head, clutching to the bag in my hands. The hot tears flooded my eyes.

“The duke—you were to marry the duke? You are a peasant—how could a duke marry a girl like you?” His words had turned to mad ramblings. “Angleton, of course! I know that name.”

I shook my head again, fraught with nerves and a lack of air or the ability to speak.

He gripped my arms roughly and shook me. “Answer me!” he shouted into my face.

“My l-l-l-lord. I am t-t-t-t-to marry a d-d-d-duke, but I have run away. I never deceived you about that. I-I-I cannot marry that man when my heart belongs to you.”

BOOK: Sinderella
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