Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3) (8 page)

When Faye stopped by that day, Ella had never been gladder to see her. She immediately told Marigold she needed to check on Hermione and headed out to the cow.

“Faye,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here. I need a huge favor.”

Faye stared at her. “More salve? I thought it was healed last time I saw it,” she said.

Ella shook her head. “No, it’s not that,” she said. She lifted her dress and tied to her leg, there was a bundle. Ella undid the knot quickly and handed it to Faye. “Take this to the castle and give it to the man who waits the gate, Heinrich. You know him, right?”

Faye nodded. “I do. He’s the one hired you, so you know him, too. Why don’t you give it to him?”

Ella sighed. She hated it when Faye decided to ask questions rather than agree. “Please,” she said. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just give it to him, and tell him it’s for Ash. Please.”

Faye scowled and took a step back. “Will he be angry at what’s in there?”

Alas, Faye knew her too well. “A little, but please Faye.”

“Tell me everything, now.”

Ella didn’t want to or think she had the time, but she explained to Faye about how she’d felt ashamed, about the way the other cousin had leered at her and propositioned her, about Lord Angleton telling her that her father would be proud of her. “I’m not going back to see him, and I just want to let him know. That’s it. Give it to him, please.”

Faye nodded. “I understand how you feel,” she said. “Sometimes being with a man fills your soul, and sometimes it sucks it right out. If it’s sucking your soul out, you oughtta be through with it.”

Ella nodded. She was glad Faye understood.

Faye stood, as if she planned to leave, but then she didn’t move. She looked down at Ella. “What about Lord Angleton?” she asked. “Maybe if you explained the situation, maybe he could be of help to you, get Lady Kenna to be nicer.”

Ella shook her head. “No,” she said. “Right now, things are alright because she wants me to make Uncle Bart think things are well. If I told him they weren’t, and he said something to her, she’d treat it as an absolute betrayal. Lord Angleton’s opinion of her would be ruined, so she’d see no reason to even pretend to be kind to me anymore. She’d marry me off to someone awful. And then I’ll be no better off. At least now, she’s kinder as she pursues Charles. I’ll figure something out during what I hope is a long courtship.”

Faye nodded. “I understand,” she said. “Don’cha worry Ella. You’ll figger out sumtin. And I’ll take your note.”

Ella smiled at that. At least one thing would be settled.

* * *

Heinrich was leaning on the wall, grimacing, and the prince had the package in his hands.

“Start over,” Ashton said. “What happened again?”

Heinrich grimaced and took a breath. “Cinders’ friend came up to me, told me she had a package from her for you.”

“Yes,” Ashton said, impatiently.

“I told her to come with me, in case you had any questions. She said she’d be glad to, and as I turned to lead her here, she stomped hard on my foot, pushed me over and ran away. She threw the package in the opposite direction so I’d have to choose if I wanted to get her or the delivery. She was very clever.”

He looked down at the package in his hand, dread filling him. He knew it was bad. No one left a package that way unless it was bad. He unwound the small package, really a bunch of old cloths folded several times over something hard and tied with a string. When he got to the contents, he found most of what he had paid Cinders, along with a note.

I’m sorry. I can’t come tonight or any other night. I have enjoyed our time together, but this is not who I am. I am returning most of the money. I promised a friend a portion for doing me the favor of keeping the coins safe. It was not right to ask her for it back, so I didn’t. But the rest is yours to keep. I shall never forget you.

Cinders

Ashton had needed to get out. After the disappointment of Cinders not showing up the other night, he couldn’t stay at the castle any longer. He’d asked a favor of his cousin Leith, who was fairly dependable for keeping things mum. He’d dressed in a hooded cloak and taken Leith’s horse. Now he was free. Riding in the countryside. Riding out in the open. Away from the gates of the castle. Away from his mother’s overprotective insanity. He wished she’d never heard the rumors of Princess Briar Rose being locked away in a castle surrounded by thorns, all due to the magic of an evil fairy. Or even if she had heard the rumor, that she’d never met the soothsayer who told her his life would be in danger until after his 20th birthday.

Still, it was just a few weeks away. October 1. He couldn’t wait. He wanted nothing more than to feel this freedom on a daily basis. He’d been out this way before. Several times, in fact. When he was but a child, his mother trusted Gertrude impeccably, allowing her to take him all about. She’d brought him to a small pond in the middle of the woods, in a clearing. It had the most beautiful crystalline blue water he’d ever seen. A perfect blue, that sparkled in the midday sun. It was a hazy, lazy place that he remembered with fondness.

One day Gertrude had taken him there when he’d fallen into the thorns. It had been a freak accident, but his mother had reprimanded Gertrude badly. The woman had only redeemed herself by providing the folk remedy, that fragrant-smelling salve that had sped up the healing process. Still, Gertrude hadn’t been allowed to take him on such journeys again and just six months later, she had gone to serve the Duke. While Ashton’s mother had protested, the King had said Ashton was too old to still have a nursemaid.

Ashton rode on, enjoying the peace, enjoying the memories and finally, he saw it. At least, he thought that was it. The woods seemed to almost thicken around the area where the clearing should be. If his memory served him right, it was near here. Even though Gertrude had brought him here often, he’d been only been 12 the last time he came. Still, something about the area up ahead just felt right.

* * *

Ella could not believe her good fortune. Lady Kenna had her heart so set on Bathilda marrying Lord Angleton’s son Charles and Marigold meeting a young man too, that she’d taken the girls to town for a day of shopping for dresses, along with some type of beauty treatment.

Ella only had a few chores to complete, so she did them quickly, grabbed a blanket to relax on and ran, yes, literally ran, all the way to the Crystal Pond. She wasn’t sure if that’s what the official name of the pond was, but it’s what her parents called it. Her father had actually told her it was a magical pond that could only be discovered by fairies and lovers. She’d always grinned and laughed when he said it, as she never quite believed him. Though, the truth was, she’d never seen anyone else at the Crystal Pond but her and her parents, or herself alone. The pond was off the beaten path, so she attributed its lack of popularity to that. But today, as she ran, carefree as she had been as a child, wanting nothing more than to escape the late summer heat wave and enjoy a refreshing dip in the pond, she wondered if it was? Something about the pull of the pond felt magical, like it was calling to her.

As soon as she got to the little clearing, she looked around for any signs of another human being. She even called out, “Hello? Anyone here?” Nothing. She smiled, set out her blanket, stripped off her dress and undergarments and waded into the pond. She went in slowly, letting the shock of the cool water settle in and contrast with the heat of the day.

The water felt so good since it had been so hot today and she’d sweated a lot on the run over. It was probably one of the last days of excessive summer warmth and she dipped her head under and swam out to the center of the pool. She looked around, leaned back, floated and enjoyed the solitude and peace. She righted herself, deciding to tread water. She looked up to see the sun was directly overhead. Noon. Lady Kenna and the girls wouldn’t be back until suppertime. She could languish here for a while and sketch a few of the plants Mr. Halliwell had told her about before Lady Kenna told her she couldn’t work for him anymore. Ella had decided to approach Mr. Halliwell’s son and ask if she could do the work for him. It wouldn’t technically be violating Lady Kenna’s order, and maybe he would agree. She thought Mr. Halliwell and his sons were nice people and would still want the work done. If she could convince them not to tell Lady Kenna of the new arrangement her plans to escape might still work. With what he had been paying her, she was sure she could simply book passage on a ship bound for a place far away. She’d figure out how to survive when she got there. She would start over, saying she was orphaned and a woman who had to provide for herself. It was on the most basic level true. The inheritance she should have had was being used to provide for her stepsisters, and Lady Kenna would never treat her justly.

Saying goodbye to Ash had at the very least given her confidence that she could survive in her own way, in a way that she felt proud of. Her only concern at this point was Lady Kenna’s threat to marry her off to a brute. With Bathilda trying to impress Lord Angleton, it was unlikely that Lady Kenna would try to physically hurt Ella, but a wrong move could land her married to a monster. She couldn’t let that happen; yet she’d forgone her one chance to earn more money. Foregone her meeting with Ash.

While she felt better about returning the money, she felt miserable for disappointing him the way she did. Even though she hadn’t seen him, she swore she could feel his anguish that night. Just after 10 pm, when she was supposed to meet him, it felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. It was awful, and she felt terribly guilty, because he’d generally been so kind to her. She missed his kindness and gentle words. Only, she told herself, that wasn’t real. That was in her mind. What was real was that he viewed her as simply an object he had to have, and she hadn’t liked being an object he could buy with a few King’s coins.

She looked around as she treaded water. She was tired of treading – both literally at that moment and in life. She wanted, for just a moment to sink, to let herself drop to the bottom, touch it and spring back up. Perhaps the world would look better if she could free fall and sink for a bit before rising, like the legendary Phoenix who erupted in a ball of fire, burning away, only to rise from the ashes better than before. She’d slough off all the layers of doubt and stress and worry and emerge from the pool reborn with a new mission and new confidence. She closed her eyes, took in a breath and then stopped. Stopped moving her arms and legs, stopped thinking about her problems. Stopped doing everything but letting the water lap over her as she slowly sank to the bottom of the pond.

* * *

Ashton had just stepped into the clearing, certain this was the pond he’d come to as a boy, when he saw a woman in the center of the pond. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be struggling a bit. It took a moment for his brain to register that it was Cinders. He’d just come to realize for sure it was her when she suddenly sank. Like a rock. It was as if she suffered a sudden paralysis because she just stopped. Went from movement to frozen, and then submerged.

He knew he had to act quickly, so he took off the baldric holstering his sword and quickly tugged off his boots. He didn’t want them to weigh him down. At the last minute, he even yanked off his shirt, ran into the water and swam toward the last spot he’d seen her. He was about to dive under looking for her, when she popped out of the water and took in a deep lung full of air. She wiped the water from her face and opened her eyes, which widened in shock at seeing him.

“Ash,” she spluttered.

He nodded. “Cinders?”

Her shock at seeing him gave way to a smile. But only for a moment. Short-lived as it had been, the smile had been there. She was happy to see him, happy to find him there, and that pleased him more than he’d care to admit.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she treaded water.

He too was treading now. A bird flying overhead gave a low warble, which Ashton ignored. “Well,” he said. “I used to come to this place sometimes when I was a child, but it’s been a long time. It’s been forever since I’ve even thought about this place, but I was thinking about it this morning, so I set out to find it. Only when I got here, I saw you start to drown.”

She broke into a laugh. Her cheeks got rosy, her wet, silken hair jostled and she had that beautiful pearly white smile on her face. “No, I wasn’t drowning,” she said.

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“I just wanted to sink for a minute.”

“Sink?” He stared at her. He couldn’t imagine for a single second why anyone would want to sink. Would want to feel flooded with water, compressed, suffocated.

“You’ve never sunk before? Let yourself slowly drop to the bottom and feel all your problems float away?”

He shook his head. A breeze passed by, chilling him, almost as much as the thought of sinking did. His only problem in life so far had been the inability to get away. The idea of purposely sinking to the bottom, purposely moving further from the ability to run free seemed like blasphemy.

“Well, it’s just,” she said, staring at him and taking in a breath as she made the effort to tread. “It’s just that my life seems complicated lately and I just wanted to sink for a bit, to feel like the problems were sloughing off as I descended, and then to emerge feeling refreshed, unbound, untethered.”

Unbound. Untethered. That desire he understood perfectly. He nodded. “I know the desire to feel free from your worries. I might even try it, but it’s harder to move about, as I jumped in to save you while still clothed.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her face morphing into apology. “I didn’t mean for you to do that.”

“It’s quite alright,” he said, meaning it. “I’d rather be wet saving someone who didn’t need saving than to be dry and learn that a beautiful maiden had drowned.”

She blushed and he watched her a moment, captivated by the glow that overtook her face when her cheeks colored. “Let’s go ashore,” he said, and he turned and swam to the pond’s edge. He pulled himself out and turned back to see Cinders still treading water in the middle of the pond. He’d almost forgotten that she didn’t know who he really was. Most things he said were done, taken by those around him as commands. Cinders was certainly suffering under no such illusions. “Aren’t you going to come out?” he called to her, as he sat on the silty shore.

She shook her head. “I’m happy here.”

He stared at her, as she treaded, her breathing heavy. “Are you sure?” he said. “You seem tired. Besides, I’d like to talk to you. Why don’t you come out?”

She bit her lower lip and swam a little closer to him. She’d clearly gotten to the shallow water and was standing; only everything beneath her neck was still submerged. “It’s just that I don’t have any clothes on,” she admitted.

He couldn’t help smile at that, remembering how pert and round her lovely breasts were, the shapely thighs she had, firm and toned. He wanted to see her again — all of her. “I’ve seen you naked before,” he said. “Do you not recall?”

She stared into the water a moment, then looked up at him, a yearning in her eyes. “Yes, I remember,” she said. “But, I’m not comfortable parading about naked.”

“I’ll turn my head,” he said. “I promise not to look without your permission.”

She stared at him a moment, then said “I have your word? A promise as a gentleman that you will not look?”

He chuckled. He’d never before been asked for his word. He found it charming. It seemed such a mundane, normal thing to do, to ask a man for his word and him to be respectable, and either give it or decline. “I give you my word.” He turned his back to her and listened to the water splash as she swam ashore. He heard the noise of rustling fabric and wondered if she was retrieving clothing from her bag. He had an urge to turn and see her again, yet he’d given her his word, so he didn’t. He decided to close his eyes and imagine her as she had been the other night, only this time, dripping with water, wet and glistening and moist, ready and waiting for him.

He was smiling when she called out, “It’s fine to turn around.”

He almost didn’t want to, certain that the vision in his head would be more appealing than the one when he turned around. He turned and there she was, sitting on a blanket, not far from him, a simple blue dress thrown over her. It was one of those lighter blues, almost the color of the sky, and the fabric seemed thin because she’d put the dress on while wet. The frock clung to her body in all the right places. Perhaps this was a better sight. Perhaps, he’d enjoy peeling this dress off of her.

She waved him over and he noticed she had some bread in a basket, and also what looked like berries. “Why don’t you join me?” she said. “The least I can do is feed you since you jumped in to save me.”

* * *

As Ash sat down on the blanket with her, he smoothed the dark hair that was plastered to his face, away from his forehead. He was still very wet and she felt bad that he’d jumped in thinking she was drowning.

Her father had taught her to swim when she was young, and she was very good at it. Much better than some of the other girls. She didn’t think Marigold or Bathilda knew how to swim at all.

Ella held out a piece of bread to him. His fingers grazed hers as he took the offering, and she felt a spark in that simple touch. “Thank you,” he said and took a bite. He chewed a moment, then asked, “Do you live around here?”