Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells (25 page)

Max was at a loss for words. He stood, mouth open, as the Dame spoke, her voice full of disapproval.

“
You, young man, have put my Goddaughter in a very unenviable position, and she doesn’t even know it. She suspects, of course, that there is something wrong with your courtship, that there is some reason that this will all end in shambles. She does NOT realize that if she is discovered—how shall I say it—
fraternizing
with you, that she will then be reviled through the whole
kingdom.
She does not realize this, young fool, because
you
have not
told her.
”

“
But…”

“
What are you expecting her to do, Christopher Maximillian Wellesley? Do you expect her to go into hiding with you? Will you creep in and out of her attic window for a year or two while she waits for you to be able to admit that you care for her? How will she keep her family out of debtor’s prison all that time? Or should she build a reputation in her craft that you will, when
you
are ready, ask her to give up?”

Max fumbled to reply, but the Dame swept on.

“
What if you get her with child, Max, what then? Will you acknowledge the babe, dragging Ella into the storm of gossip? Or will you hide her away in some remote corner of your property and have her raise the child in secret?” Dame Merriweather took a deep breath, but Max didn’t dare try to interrupt. It was clear she wasn’t done yet. “All of these questions, all of these worries, and yet, I could forgive you each and every one if only I knew that it was something that she had agreed to. Something that she was risking, knowing full well the consequences. But she does not. And that, fool boy,” here her voice lowered to an alarming register, “I place squarely upon
your
shoulders.”

Max felt the full weight of the Dame’s words. He had been hiding it from himself, hoping that somehow he could get through this last ball, and then somehow make it through a decent period without anyone suspecting, and then introduce Ella to his world. He had been hoping that Ella would understand, when he got around to explaining himself; that she would willingly engage in some sort of subterfuge to make everything come out all right. Now he felt guilt come crushing down. This was crazy. He was going to ruin her—either her life or her reputation. It was with a heavy heart that he replied.

“
Madam, you’re right.”

“
Of course I’m right, boy. I’m always right. It’s one of my special gifts.” The words were firm, but Max sensed great sympathy behind them. She must know how his thoughts and feelings were at war inside him.

“
I should have told her long ago. The only reason I didn’t was because I knew that would be the end of it. And I… I didn’t want it to end.”

Ella’s Godmother looked at him with piercing eyes. When she spoke again her voice was beautifully gentle.

“
All you can do, my lad, is tell her the truth, and let her choose her own way. But don’t give up hope. Sometimes things
do
come out all right in the end. Sometimes.” With her point made Dame Merriweather stalked back out of his garden the way she had come.

Max watched his visitor leave, and then turned for the house. The Dame was right. He had been foolish. More than foolish. Ella deserved to have the truth from him before she unwittingly followed him into ruination.

He wanted nothing more than to run to her home and tell her everything, but that would only make matters worse. If he was seen calling on a young woman rumors would fly faster than bullets, and Ella would be the subject of the most vicious ones. Worse, if he visited her again at night he would only compound his error. The compulsion to touch her was strong even when they were standing in a crowded room. If they were alone in her attic he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation, and once he touched her… Well, last night had shown them both what happened then.

He’d been interrupted more than once in Ella’s shop. If a patron walked in on them at the wrong moment, it could raise almost as many rumors as if he visited her at home. Mrs. Minglesall would be concerned if she came in and Ella was upset; she was bound to make a fuss. And Lord Durns’ mistress would actually recognize him. If she saw him making her seamstress cry, no telling what rumors she might spread around court.

He would have to wait until the ball, when they could be in public together without raising suspicion. The thought of waiting five more days to see her made him want to pull his hair out, but he could think of no better way. He penned a hasty note and called his valet. He only hoped that Ella would forgive him, when she finally understood.

CHAPTER
EIGH
TEEN

Ella was singing as her needle flew along. She loved the costume she was making for Madam Fire Hair, but the cause of her joy had nothing to do with clothing. From the moment she had woken that morning she felt as though she were floating on air. The monumental task of completing a score of costumes seemed trivial; because nothing could be impossible when she was this happy.

During her usual morning ritual of packing up materials to take to the shop, Ella had found Max’s cravat on her work table. Underneath had been a short note:

Wonderful Ella, I’ll see you soon.

Ella had tucked his cravat into her sewing basket, and all morning long, every time she caught sight of it, her heart filled with excitement. She would see him, soon. Perhaps even today—they hadn’t discussed his costume for the final ball; he might visit the shop today to make his decisions. Or, and when Ella thought of this she blushed, perhaps she would see him tonight. After climbing four trees surely he had the hang of it. It wouldn’t be so very difficult to climb just
one
more.

The bell above the door tinkled, and Ella looked up. For a moment she was disappointed it wasn’t Max, but she quashed the feeling firmly. It was early yet, and she couldn’t get so lost in Max that she forgot all her other obligations.

Madam Fire Hair came in with an exclamation of delight when she saw what was in Ella’s hands.

“
How marvelous! I must admit, I had some reservations when you described it to me, but you were right. I will be a sensation at the ball.”

Ella was working on the headpiece of the costume. She was stitching a delicate ceramic asp, reared back to strike, on the top of the heavy cloth of gold that draped from the forehead all the way down to the shoulders. A wide circular collar and a long tapered sash sitting on the counter were also made of the gold cloth, and all three were edged with red embroidery and tiny garnets. The asp itself was painted cream with gold banding, and two more deep red garnets had been set in place of the eyes. Behind her on the wall hung a white shift, made of three layers of ultra-sheer silk. Madam Fire Hair ran her fingers appreciatively over the simple undergarment.

“
I’ve only heard stories of Kairo
;
is this really what their rulers wear?”

“
As I understand it. It’s much warmer there.”

“
Imagine all the revealing things we might wear, if only our climate were different!” The flame haired woman laughed. “Perhaps we would all parade around in our night rails, with only a light robe now and then for propriety’s sake.”

At the mention of night rails, Ella felt her face grow warm. She knew the Madam was just indulging in a bit of racy humor, but it drew her thoughts back inexorably to the previous night. She saw Madam Fire Hair give her a speculating look.

“
I say, Miss Emberton, you are looking uncommonly pretty this morning.”

“
That’s very kind of you, Madam.”

“
I would go so far as to say you’re glowing.”

Ella opened her mouth but didn’t say anything; she couldn’t figure out how to respond. Madam Fire Hair chuckled.

“
Don’t worry, Miss Emberton, I’ve been known to glow like that, myself, on occasion. I shan’t say another word.”

Ella decided the less said the better, and ushered Madam Fire Hair to the back so she could try on the costume. While she was marking the little adjustments that were needed, the Madam asked about her own costume.

“
I hadn’t thought of it, actually.”

“
Well,” Fire Hair’s voice was muffled as she pulled the sheath off over her head, “given your talent, you should try for something spectacular.”

Ella thought about that as she helped Madam Fire Hair dress, and set a time for her maid to pick up the finished costume. Once she was alone again her mind continued to dwell on the problem. She needed a costume, and, if she were honest with herself, she would love to dress somehow to match Max. Maybe they could both go as Gods from the Hellene
p
antheon. She had enough fabric remnants, it wouldn’t take her too long to whip up a costume for Iris, the Rainbow Bringer.

She was giggling at the idea of Max attending the ball dressed in nothing but winged sandals when the bell tinkled again. Her head shot up, and this time she didn’t attempt to suppress her disappointment. Max’s valet was standing in her shop, and if his valet was here that meant he wasn’t likely to be coming.

“I’ve a note for you, Miss.”

“Thank you.”

He placed it in her hand and turned to go.

“
Wait!” She looked at him in surprise. “Let me see if I need to reply.”

The valet looked at her mistrustfully. When he had come to pick up the last costume, Ella had asked a number of questions about Max, all of which he had gracefully side
-
stepped and then practically fled before she could think of more inquiries. Clearly he was suspicious of her motivation in asking him to remain. Ella smiled a bit and broke the seal on the note.

Ella, I’m not going to be able to get away to see you. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll explain everything. Later. Save me a dance at the ball. Max.

Not able to get away?

Not able to get away from
what?

And he’d see her at the ball? Not before? Not for a costume fitting? Was he going to someone else? Had he not liked her work? Had his usual tailor thrown a jealous fit?

Was he just avoiding her?

The valet asked her something, but she waved him off. Her mind was too full. What could be keeping Max away? He obviously wasn’t under physical restraint. Did he have great obligations? Was he a protector of the realm? Was his presence being commanded by the king?