Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3) (17 page)

Ashton was unbelievably anxious as he waited in the lower room for Heinrich to come back with the girl. He paced back and forth, telling himself that his plan would work. He sighed and sat on the bed. He was half dressed in his clothing. The ball would start shortly, and he’d excused himself from dinner with his family, saying he was too nervous to eat. But he was really waiting for her. He wasn’t sure what was taking Heinrich so long. Really, how hard was it to find this girl?

There was a knock on the door and Ashton answered immediately. “Come.”

The door opened and Heinrich held in his grasps a large, chunky girl who appeared to be struggling to break loose. “Let go o’ me,” the girl panted.

Ashton stared uncertainly, a little unsure what the problem was. Heinrich closed the door and released the girl. She stood there, distrust on her face, her eyes darting back and forth between Heinrich and Ashton.

“What you wan’ wit’ me,” she asked, her accent of the rougher type that Ashton sometimes heard in the market.

Ashton smiled and tried to look friendly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I want your help. I didn’t mean for him to be so rough with you. I just want your help. I have a message and a package I’d like you to deliver to Ella.”

The girl’s large brown eyes stopped on Ashton, and she gave him the once over. She half smirked as recognition seemed to dawn on her. “You’re Ash,” she said.

Ashton nodded. “Yes, I am and Ella left before I could tell her something important. Can you give her something for me? It’s extremely important.”

Faye squinted at him as if she didn’t quite believe him. “Why don’t you give it to Ella yourself?”

“Because she hasn’t told me where she lives,” he said. It was a partial truth. Cinderella had never told him where she lived, but she’d told him enough to find Lady Kenna’s home, if he had time. Only he didn’t. He needed Faye’s assistance. “Unfortunately, every time I’ve sent someone to follow her, she goes to your room and seems to disappear.”

Faye’s eyes widened a bit. “You followed her?”

Ashton felt a bit of shame creep onto his face and wondered if he were starting to blush. “I only hoped to learn more about her, like where she lived. She’d been so reticent until recently.”

Faye nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Lady Kenna tanned her hide a few weeks back, so I reckon she don’t want to cross hu’ again.”

Ashton nodded. “I reckon,” he agreed. Then, he turned to the bed and lifted the package Gertrude had given him half an hour ago. “Here,” he said. “Time is of the essence. She must get this shortly. Within the hour.”

Faye looked at the packages then pursed her lips. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but it’ll take me an hour or longer just to get to her ‘ouse.”

Ashton set the packages down. “An hour or longer?” he repeated.

She nodded.

Ashton looked over at Heinrich. “Get her a carriage,” he said.

He heard the clock tower strike. It was the first bell of the eight o’clock hour. His parents would be furious with him. He was going to be late for his own ball. He nodded toward Heinrich and Faye. “I have to go, but make sure Ella gets this.”

Ashton hurried away, leaving Faye and Heinrich alone.

“Come,” Heinrich said. “You can take the pumpkin and mice.”

Faye stared at him as if she thought he’d gone mad. “You al’ight Heinrich.”

“I’m fine,” he said, a slight chuckle escaping him. “Pumpkin’s the name of our tiniest carriage. It’s dark orange, like a pumpkin, and uses little horses. The driver likes to call them the mice. Now hurry.”

Logic told her the window was too narrow to escape, but Ella was desperate enough right now to pray her logic was faulty. She tried to just approximate it, to see if she could squeeze through. She stuck her head out and squeezed one shoulder into the frame to see if she could get further out. But she regretted it immediately, as she was wedged in the window and she was worried she was stuck. Ella sucked in a breath and tugged backwards, dislodging herself from the frame. This wasn’t going to work. She was one hundred percent stuck here.

Ella paced back and forth and cursed aloud. Why had she let her sympathy for Marigold’s situation cause her to stay? She shouldn’t have offered to help her. She should have just gone on with her plan. She’d tried to help and it had gained her nothing.

She walked over and lay on her bed, her arms folded beneath her face, and cried. She felt the hot tears run along her arms and her depression worsened as the truth sank in. She was truly stuck. There was no getting out. Lady Kenna had finally broken her, had finally won.

Ella was stuck in here tonight and for as long as the lady wanted. She wouldn’t escape. She’d be promised to some awful man. All her hard work had been for naught. Everything was worthless. Everything was hopeless. Ella was hopeless. She let the tears flow and let every bit of hope she’d had for the future flow out with those tears.

Lying in a soggy puddle of her own tears, she heard someone call her name. “Ella,” the voice called out. She lifted her head and tried to calm herself. The tears didn’t stop flowing immediately, but she wiped her face with her hands and took a deep breath. She heard her name again and her heart soared. She recognized the voice and ran to the window.

“Faye,” Ella called out. “Faye,” she said again. “Lady Kenna has locked me up here. You have to help me.”

Ella looked down into the night but didn’t spot Faye. The full moon was bright tonight and cast a fair amount of light, but Ella didn’t see her friend down below. “Faye,” she called again.

“I’m inside Ella,” she heard. Faye’s voice was coming from downstairs. “I’ll get you out.”

Ella ran down the stairs and stood in front of the door. “Are you able to loosen the lock?” Ella called through the closed door.

“Hold yo’ knickers,” Faye said.

There were a few metallic clanks and a moment later, the door popped open. Standing before Ella was Faye. A large box was on the floor next to her and there was something in Faye’s hand. Faye held out a small envelope to Ella. “It’s from Ash,” Faye said. “He said it’s important.”

Ella looked at the note, then at Faye, wondering why she had a note from Ash. Though Heinrich knew Faye, so Ash must have had Heinrich find Faye. The steps he’d taken just to get to her, warmed her heart. She plucked the sealed envelope from Faye’s outstretched hand, sat down on one of the lower steps and pulled it open.

Cinderella,

You have abandoned me at the moment I needed you most, and it hurts my heart. You have said to me that I cannot save you, that my love for you matters nothing.

But, it is your love for me that seems to have no merit. You have chosen not to trust me when I say that I can help you to escape your situation. You have decided, unilaterally, that because your father loved you, and still did not prevent you from falling into the state that you are in, that love is not enough for you. I am not your father. I have listened to you. I have helped you with the marks of your burden. I have always offered you my assistance, yet you say that you don’t believe I have the power to save you. Leaving the way that you did has nothing to do with my love for you. You left because you fear her more than you love me.

I am asking you to trust me. I am asking you to love me more than you fear her. This one time, trust me, please. Put your faith in me, and I will not let you down.

If you love me, come to the ball tonight. I will be able to free you from Lady Kenna. Please. I beg you. Trust me.

All my love,

Ash

Ella found herself reading the letter again, and once more. She bit the edge of her lip, realizing that Ash was right. She had let fear rule her. But why shouldn’t she have? I mean, look what Lady Kenna had done tonight. She had locked her away and trapped her in this house. She looked up, and there stood Faye. Look at what Ash had done. He’d sent Faye to rescue her. Already, he was showing that he could help free her from Lady Kenna.

She looked at the note. She did love him. She needed to give him this chance. She needed to take a chance on love, to take a chance that putting her faith in him would not be a mistake. “I need to go to the ball,” she said, looking up.

Faye handed Ella the box. “This has everything you need,” she said. “Quickly, change. I’ll gussie up your hair when you finish.”

Ella ran back up the stairs to her room. She was pulling off her mother’s frock and opening the box. Inside was the most beautiful dress Ella had ever seen. It was a long blue gown with puffed sleeves that hung off the shoulders. The skirt spread out with layers of petticoats and fabric. The most amazing thing about it was royal blue shimmering fabric that appeared to be sprinkled with a gold dust. Every time the fabric moved, even slightly, it reflected light in shimmering waves, as if by magic. She had never seen anything like it. There was also a beautiful matching butterfly eye mask. And there were shoes too. They were slippers covered in hundreds of tiny crystals, which shimmered in the low light of her room. They initially looked too small for her feet, yet when she put her feet into them, they eased right on, as if by magic.

Ella dressed quickly and hurried down the stairs. “How do I look?” she asked.

“Like a p’incess,” Faye said, wonder in her voice. “Come, let me fix your hair.” Ella went over and Faye worked deftly, lifting Ella’s hair into a stylish do, garnished with a crystal hair clip that matched the shoes.

“It’s all so pretty,” Ella said.

“Yes it is,” Faye said. “The slippers are glass. That’s what Heinrich told me.”

Ella laughed. She couldn’t imagine Heinrich carrying on a conversation about fashion, much less glass slippers. But she couldn’t imagine Faye making up such a thing either, so it must be true.

Faye started to walk toward the outside. “Hurry, Ella,” she said. “You haf to get ‘der. I promised Ash I’d get you ‘der.”

Ella rushed after her and they headed to the front yard where there was a beautiful orange carriage with gold trim. It looked like a pumpkin, in shape, and the top of it had a vine-like winding. Four small horses were at the reigns, whinnying and neighing.

“Quickly,” Faye said. “Into the pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?” Ella asked.

“Oh, it’s what they call it at the castle. Just get in. Ash is waiting.”

Ash. His face popped into her mind, his smiling trusting face. The words in his letter echoed through her head. “You fear her more than you love me.” She didn’t. She loved him more than anything. She had to see him.

She rushed into the carriage and waited for Faye. A footman closed the door. Ella stuck her head out. “Aren’t you coming with me?” she asked. She had just assumed Faye would come too.

“No, Ella,” she said. “You go on. I need to get home, but I can’t wait to hear about it tomorrow.”

The carriage started to move and Ella turned and waved. “Thank you Faye,” she called out. “I appreciate this so much. I’ll tell you all tomorrow.”

Ashton had joined his parents and watched the festivities begin. There were platitudes feting him and several nobles and dignitaries gave speeches in his honor. He sat there with a smile plastered on his face and feeling bored out of his skull. His only solace was searching the crowd for her face. Searching for the beautiful butterfly mask Gertrude had fashioned for her.

He’d gotten his hopes up briefly earlier, as Heinrich came over and pointed out that a Lady Kenna and her daughters Bathilda and Marigold had been announced as arriving. He looked at the threesome hopefully, but saw no indication that Cinderella was with them. From afar, he’d watched the ladies, determining Lady Kenna to be decent looking for her age, and seemingly pleasant enough that he would never have guessed at her behavior. The large girl, whom he took to be Bathilda had no pleasing qualities that he could see, and the final girl, Marigold, seemed, as Cinderella had described her — too kind to be paired with the other two. But, he lost sight of them shortly thereafter, wanting only to see Cinderella appear among the faces of the crowd.

He sat in the grand ballroom of the castle perched on a throne between his parents. The guests stood at attention or clapped in appropriate places. In the corner of the room, the orchestra sat, their instruments completely silenced as they suffered through this part of the celebration.

She wasn’t here yet, and perhaps that was good. Would she be angry that he had not been entirely honest with her? Would she be mad if she arrived now to see that he was the prince, that Ashton was merely his middle name? He hoped she wouldn’t be too angry he hadn’t told her the truth. He had wanted to last night, but she left before he got the chance, so she couldn’t be angry. A flutter of nerves wrenched his gut as he saw his father stand to give the final speech of the evening. The music and dancing would begin when the King finished speaking.

Ashton sighed, then turned his attention back to the platform where his uncle Harry, the Grand Duke, was finishing some type of toast. King Henry stood, walked over to his brother and patted him on the shoulder, and the younger man stepped aside. The King, who was holding a wine goblet in his hand, turned and smiled back at him, then addressed the crowd.

“It is with great pleasure that I present my son, John Ashton, on the eve of his 20th birthday. He is kind, generous and wise, all qualities that will make him a good ruler when his time comes. I know you have all come for dance and merriment, so I shall keep my remarks short. In addition to coming of age at the end of the evening, my son will also be on the hunt for a bride tonight. He will mingle amongst all the people, no matter their station of birth, seeking one who shares his generosity, kindness and wisdom.” The King raised his goblet of wine and turned back to his son. “Happy Birthday, my son. May you succeed in your endeavors tonight and all future endeavors.”

Ashton stood and smiled. He waved to the crowd as they applauded. He searched the hundreds of faces below for Cinderella, but still didn’t see her. He managed to hide his disappointment, his smile waning slightly, but staying mostly in place.

“Is something the matter, dear?” his mother asked. He hadn’t noticed her rise and stand next to him.

He shook his head, “No, mother. I’m fine.”

Ashton sighed and took a few steps away from his mother, scanning the crowd, hoping he looked like he was trying to find a fetching lass. He spotted his cousin Chandler not far away, talking to a pretty girl. Ashton caught his cousin’s eye from afar and waved. Chandler scowled at him and turned away. He felt bad. Chandler was still angry about their chat, still believed Ash was a hypocrite who looked down upon him. He hadn’t wanted to create a rift between himself and Chandler. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see his cousin Leith.

“You ready?” asked Leith, looking appropriately cheerful for the evening, and wearing a simple black mask over his eyes.

Ashton nodded. “Not entirely,” he admitted. “But the moment is upon us, so whether I’m ready matters not.”

Leith smiled jovially. “You’ll do fine,” he said. “Tis a great day for your kingdom, and I’m proud of you.” He looked out at the gathering crowd, then back at his cousin. “I just wanted to wish you luck before things get started. I’m going to go mingle.”

Ashton nodded. “Thank you, then, Leith,” he said. “But, when you talk to Chandler, tell him I’d like to talk to him. I feel bad about the way things were when he and I last spoke.”

Leith nodded knowingly, then patted his cousin. “I’ll tell him,” he said. “But Chandler probably just wants you to feel as if he’s angry. I don’t think he really is that irritated. It just hurt his pride a little. I’m sure he’ll come see you in the morning.”

Ashton shrugged, as he watched Chandler from afar. Leith was probably right. “Perhaps,” he said.

“I’ll talk to him,” Leith said. “And happy birthday.”

Ashton half laughed. He’d almost forgotten the reason for the celebration. “Thank you, Leith.”

With that, his cousin turned and wandered off. A few moments later, Heinrich came over. “Your Highness, the gentleman you asked me to find is here,” Heinrich said.

Ashton nodded. Even if she didn’t come, he still wanted to do this for Cinderella. It seemed the right thing to do, even if she would never know. “Excuse me, mother,” Ashton said, and then followed Heinrich away from the platform on which the thrones rested and out a side door of the ballroom. He went through a hall and into a small room, where a tall, broad man with salt and pepper hair sat in a chair looking a bit nervous. It was unusual for royalty to call upon people they’d never met. And at such a ball. He was probably worried he’d done something wrong.

Ashton smiled and extended his hand. “Lord Angleton,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The Lord bowed before rising and shaking Ashton’s hand. “It’s a great honor to meet you sire,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as his nerves shone through.

“I apologize for summoning you here without explanation,” Ashton said. “It’s nothing bad.” At this, Lord Angleton seemed to ease slightly, his shoulders relaxing, his face loosening. Oddly enough, it had the effect of making the lord look more imposing. When he was more himself, more at ease, he had a certain power about him, which was probably why he did so well at the lumber business.

“I was hoping to smooth things over in your marriage negotiations for Marigold,” the prince said.

Angleton raised a brow. “Smooth things over?”

“Yes,” he said. “It appears that Lady Kenna’s decision to wait until after my ball to finish the negotiations was misinterpreted. I think she merely was hoping to get my blessing at the ball to move forward. And I freely give it. Marigold is a lovely girl and I think she would make a lovely match for your son, even though I haven’t met the young man.”

Lord Angleton swallowed hard and stared. “You know Marigold.”

Ashton shrugged. “We have a mutual acquaintance, and I would feel horrible if my ball somehow hindered a union that was otherwise going smoothly, so I just wanted to take a moment of your time and let you know that I give this union the royal blessing and would be honored to attend the wedding.”

Lord Angleton nodded and smiled. “Of course, your Highness, we would welcome you and your entire family at the union, and do not worry. Nothing about your ball has altered in any way my resolve to allow Marigold and Charles to marry.”

Ashton smiled. He was genuinely happy that he could resolve this situation. Cinderella had seemed so bothered by the idea that Lady Kenna could hurt her own daughter through her machinations. Now, no matter what was said, Lord Angleton would ensure that Marigold and Charles married. Even if Cinderella was lost to him, driven away by fear, at least there was one girl in that household he could save. Save without her knowing it. At least without her knowing it until he appeared at her wedding. For now he would have to go. And part of him looked forward to it. Perhaps she would talk to him of Ella, and his heart would be eased. Or would it be pained to hear of her and know that his words had meant nothing to her? They had not swayed her to stay.

“Sire?” Lord Angleton was saying

Ashton had gotten lost in his thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he said. “My mind wandered for a moment. I do apologize.”

“No, it’s quite understandable,” Lord Angleton said. “I was just apologizing for monopolizing your time when you probably wanted to be dancing with your guests. My two daughters are here, Anastasia and Delilah. Might you like to take a turn with either of them?”

“Perhaps,” Ashton said, giving a vague look. “But, I must be off right now. Thank you again for your time.”

With that Ashton turned and left. He returned to the ballroom to find people were milling about as the orchestra sat silent. But of course, he thought, no one would dance until the prince had taken the first dance. All eyes were on him as he entered the room and waded toward the platform where his parents sat. He would have to pick someone to dance with. Someone to start with, someone who wasn’t her. He swallowed as he resigned himself to this fact, and then he looked across the room and saw the doors open. She entered. A vision of blue with a shimmering gold after effect, swathed in the butterfly mask. Cinderella. He smiled and started toward her. She looked around the room and her eyes were only for him, because she spotted him almost immediately and headed straight toward him.

They met in the middle of the room and Ashton could feel all eyes on them. “Would you like to dance?” he said, his voice loud enough to carry across the room.

She smiled and curtsied. “I would be honored to dance with you.”

He took her in his arms and the orchestra began to play. She felt warm and perfect. And she looked like an angel, though he couldn’t see her face. Earlier, he’d wondered if it had been a good idea to make this a masked ball. But as he felt all eyes on them, he imagined the reaction of Lady Kenna if her stepdaughter had simply waltzed in uncostumed, it confirmed his decision. He was wearing the same mask he’d worn the first night he met Cinderella.

“I’m glad you came,” he whispered in her ear as he spun her around the dance floor.

“I do love you more than I fear her,” she whispered back. “I am sorry I left you the way I did. I shouldn’t have.”

“Shh,” he whispered. “I just want to hold you in my arms for a bit.”

She nodded and they danced. Song after song, he held her and spun her and they swayed and sashayed to the lively ballroom music. He knew his duty called for him to dance with others, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to spend these moments with Cinderella. A time of peace and joy, before he told her all.

As the music of a song died down, but before the orchestra could strike up another, Cinderella spoke. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

Ashton nodded, took her by the hand and led her out of the ballroom.

Ella was glad that Ashton knew where he was going. He led them through a hallway and around a corner. They entered a large room that was well lit and had a giant thing in the middle of the room covered by a tarp. As they got closer to the thing, which was tall — at least 12 feet high — and rectangular, she realized what it was, what it had to be.

“Is that the prince’s royal portrait?” she asked. “The one that will be revealed at midnight.”

Ash nodded. She smiled. It was sweet of him to bring her here. To give her a peek at the handiwork of the royal artists. She was curious what it was like. Painting was different from drawing, but there were certain similarities in the artistry and she would admire it, for sure. But first they needed to talk. She saw a bench on the side of the room. She walked toward it, noticing it was made of white stone and had been intricately carved with cherubs and sprites. She sat, removing the butterfly mask, and setting it in next to her. Ash joined her, removing his mask as well.

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to look at him. She stared into his hazel eyes and tried to remember what she wanted to tell him. “I trust you, with everything that is in me. If you say you can protect me from Lady Kenna, then I believe you.”

Speaking the words out loud felt freeing. She was glad she could trust him, glad that she did not feel so alone anymore. He leaned in and kissed her, smooth and silky, her mouth melting into his. She could feel the heat rising within her and pulled away. This was no place for that kind of thing. “I promised Marigold I would help her with Lord Angleton,” she said. “I should talk to him, and then, you and I can face Lady Kenna.”

He shook his head. “I talked to him.”

Ella leaned back, trying to still the confusion. “Talked to who?”

“Lord Angleton,” he said.

She was stunned. “But why?”

“Because you told me so little of your life until last night, when you finally trusted me with all of your secrets, even if you didn’t trust me to help you with them. So, I decided, whether you came tonight or didn’t, I would help Marigold, because that meant something to you.”

Ella hugged him. “Thank you, Ash,” she said. “I’m sorry I left you like that. You helped me even though I had gone. I love you so much.”

He pulled away, startling her. “I love you, too,” he said, softly. “And I hope you still feel the same after I tell you what I wanted to tell you last night.”

She’d almost forgotten. He had said he wanted to tell her something. But she’d put him off. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have listened.” She reached out and held his hand, giving it a squeeze. “It doesn’t matter what you tell me. It won’t change how I feel.”