Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale (13 page)

“You would not
comply with mother’s wishes, even after her death?” Charlotte asked, astonished.

“I see no need
for it,” said Isabella.  “Why should we still plot to kill Christian once I
marry him?  He could be just as much use to us alive.”

“That was not
what we discussed!” insisted Charlotte quietly. “What if he was to catch on to
us?”

“Let it be,”
Isabella said.

Charlotte
stared back at her sister for a few moments in disbelief.  Isabella sat
silently, refusing to look at her.

“You have
fallen in love with him!” Charlotte accused.

“Of course I
have!” Isabella cried, more loudly than she should have.

Charlotte
shook her head in disapproval.  “Did mother teach you nothing?  You must
never
fall in love!”

“Keep your
voice down,” scolded Isabella, glancing around nervously. “What does it matter
anyway?  I will have him and then we will have our riches.  He doesn’t have to
die.  It will be the same.”

“What about
moving on to the next?” Charlotte asked.

“There shall
be no ‘
next
’.  We haven’t a need for ‘
next
’.  There
is
something else you will help me do, however,” the girl said, green eyes
piercing.

Charlotte
shook her head.  “Not if it isn’t in mother’s plan,” she protested. “She has
made a plan for us!  The only way to be safe is to follow it!”

Isabella
grabbed hold of her sister’s arm forcefully, pulling her nearer until they were
face to face.

“You listen to
me!” Isabella said heatedly.  “You
will
help me do this!  You
will
listen to what I say!  Mother is as good as dead in there with that woman. 
Don’t you see?  And we are next!  Something must, and
will,
be done!”

Charlotte
sighed – as many times before – in defeat.  Her sister had again been the
greater power, and she would have to settle for whatever the girl said.  The
red-head was a puppet, controlled by whoever would take the strings.  Sadly,
the poor thing never caught on to her misfortune.

The pounding
sound of the knocker against the front door shook the girls from their
thoughts.

“Cindy!”
Isabella yelled, startling her sister. “Come to the door!”

After a
moment, Cindy emerged from the stairs, quite dirty and ragged as usual.  She
walked to the door and opened it, allowing a small brunette and a rush of
daylight into the house.

“Tilly?”
questioned Isabella, struggling to regain her composure and rising along with
Charlotte. “What are you doing here?”

“News has just
been released as to who Christian has chosen to be his wife,” Tilly the gossip
said.  “I’ve just taken the liberty to deliver it around town.”

After opening
the door, Cindy lingered in the room, pretending to straighten up a shelf of
books, but couldn’t help but listen with interest.  She went unnoticed for the
moment, but it did not keep her palms from growing damp.  And
shaking
. 
What would the result be?  She prayed that it was not one of her sisters.

“Who is it?”
Isabella asked anxiously, though already fearing the worst.

It’s not
me.
  Her breath caught in her chest.

“It’s
strange,” said Tilly. “No one knows who she is.  She doesn’t even live here,
and she wasn’t even at the party!  She’s from
the country
.  Her name is
Morgana Thompson.  Some have said she’s a relative of Beatrice Charming, his
brother’s wife.  Only fifteen!  The girl is on her way and will be coming in
tomorrow.”

“Oh,” said
Charlotte in distress while Isabella’s face turned red with rage.

“It was quite
disappointing to all of us,” said Tilly with a sigh of whimsy, clearly taking
small pleasure in letting everyone down. “I don’t think his mother is very
pleased, but she is accepting it.  It’s quite rude how he would rather marry a
girl he doesn’t know than to marry one of us!”

“Yes, quite
rude,” Isabella muttered, but she had grown distant, slipping away from
herself.

“Well, I
suppose that’s how it goes,” Tilly shrugged. “There is going to be another
party for the girl tomorrow night.  All the ladies of the town are invited,
though it seems like an unwise idea.  There are so many disappointed, jealous
women in this town today!”

Tilly
laughed.  Charlotte offered a smile in good spirits while Isabella only stared
at the floor with a scowl.

“Excuse me,”
Isabella said finally, heading upstairs.

Charlotte
watched her go nervously and then turned her face back to Tilly.

“Will she be
alright?” the gossipy brunette asked.

“Of course,”
said Charlotte. “She just needs to cool down.”  After a short moment of
standing in silence, Charlotte looked straight forward with an insistent look. 
“You should leave now,” she said.

Tilly was
unsure of the girl’s rude behavior, but agreed quickly and turned to leave. 
Charlotte sent an unsure glance to Cindy before turning and hurrying upstairs
after her sister.  There was worry in her step.  Cindy was left alone.

Cindy wasn’t
sure about what was going on, but she felt she had no reason to feel anxious
any longer.  So, Christian had already made his choice.  She supposed he didn’t
care who he chose.  Since he had no preference and no true options, he could
simply close his eyes and pick someone and it would all be the same to him.

Though it had
been her choice to tell him what she had the day before – of her feelings – she
felt angry deep inside.  Her whole world was full of anger now, and no matter
how hard she tried to deny her feelings, they were still there, pressing back
in like the darkness around a flame.

Perhaps she
was not like Christian; she indeed
did
have emotions.  She felt anger
towards her family and the dying woman upstairs.  She felt sadness for her
father’s death and that he’d had to suffer as he did.  She was angry because of
her misfortune.  Why did it all have to be?  It was wrong for someone to lose
everything that they loved and get nothing they wanted!

Cindy sank down
to the floor beside the mahogany desk.  She reached up to touch her short hair,
running her hands through it and then wrapping her arms around herself in a
hug.  She was her only comfort.

Hearing a door
open above, Cindy turned her face upward to see Amanda step out of the shadows
and walk to the banister.  She looked down at Cindy with no expression, silent
for a few moments before opening her mouth to speak.

“It’s over,”
Amanda said quite simply.  “She’s dead.”  

1

“Did you
hear about Anna Madison?”

“Yes, I
hear she’s died!  Quite suddenly!  What was wrong with her again?”

“No one is
certain. It happened so quickly.  Some say that she was bewitched.”

“Bewitched?
Ha! She was the devil already!”

“It’s quite
wrong to talk about her like this – now that she’s dead.”

“I suppose.
 Still, I wonder what killed her.  She never seemed to have any ailments.”

“I’m going
to see the doctor tomorrow and make sure there is nothing wrong with me.”

“Good idea.
 No sense taking chances…”

As Anna had
always desired, she had finally become the hottest topic of the Greenhaven
gossip circle.

2

Isabella sat
beside the fireplace in the parlor, taking in all the heat she could.  Winter
was already sending its warnings as the end of November approached.  The girl
was taking her mother’s death well – considering that none of her plans were
coming off as she had wanted. 

It was true
that her mother had wanted Christian dead only a few short years after
marriage.  Beyond that, they would move away from here and right onto
the
next
which would be
the last
and they would have enough for all they'd
ever wanted.

Isabella was
having none of that.  She wanted Christian for herself, and even now that her
mother was dead, her true desire was not even possible.  He had chosen another
and Isabella was infuriated.  
No matter.
 Everything would fall into her
hands soon enough, as she would make it so.  She had inherited a conniving
spirit from her mother, at least.

That did not
mean that there weren’t problems.

Charlotte was
becoming harder to control, getting too emotional about the loss of their
mother.  She was stuck fast to their mother’s plans.  Death could not separate
them.  Charlotte was under the impression that mother had been right about
everything, and that if they did not follow her plans exactly, they were in for
trouble.  Did Charlotte honestly think they would get caught?  No one knew what
was going on.  No one had suspected foul play at all when Charles Madison had
taken his place in the graveyard – and neither would anyone be suspicious of
the coming events – especially if
others
also took their place in the
grave because of the strange illness.

The girl
smiled to herself as she sat.  It was all too perfect.  Still, she had an
unsettling feeling.  The woman staying in the house troubled her greatly. 
Since her mother’s passing, Amanda Jefferson had still not left.  Isabella was
sure that she was the cause of her mother’s death.  It was either poisoning or
witchcraft, and Isabella wanted neither.  She would have to get the woman out
soon, or it would mean peril for her and her sister.

Charlotte was
off to their mother’s gravesite now.  The funeral had been earlier that
morning, and since there was no longer a mortuary, the body had simply been
placed in the coffin and dumped into the earth.  The affair had been private as
to cover up any suspicions that the van Burrens were not wealthy enough to hold
an elaborate service.  No fancy funeral for Anna – no weeping eyes.  Too, too
bad. 

Isabella took
a deep breath and rested her head against the chair’s back.  All she could do
now was wait.

3

“The deed is
done,” said Amanda, “and that is one.  One victim of prophecy, fallen to a
strange illness.”

Cindy nodded
her head, looking up from the bed on which she sat.  They were in the room
Amanda had been given, and from which she had no intention of leaving.  She had
even taken a few things from Anna’s room, including some of the woman’s finer
clothes.  Amanda was shameless.

“There are
seven openings left,” Cindy said with a bit of worry.  “How can we be sure that
everything will fall properly?”

Amanda turned
back with a serious gaze.  “You must listen.  Rest in knowing that we are
working through this together and will avenge your father.  Then, even if you
are
one of the chosen eight, you will be with him in heaven.”

“I will go to
heaven even for participating in witchcraft?” Cindy asked. 

“You are not
doing witchcraft,” she said. “
I
am doing witchcraft.  And don’t worry. 
My soul is not going into hellfire.  I have no fear of it.”

“How can you
be certain?” she asked.

Cindy was not
a fool.  Even though she had not been allowed to show her face at weekly church
services, she knew what was taught.  Everything they were doing was completely
against
heaven.

“God will
judge,” Amanda said, “and with his good graces, the righteous will be delivered
out of the mouth of hell.”

Cindy nodded
and sighed, trying to calm herself.

“Next you must
do something for me,” Amanda said, turning toward the girl with her hollow
eyes.

“What?” asked
Cindy, awaiting her request.

“You must now
bring me something of your sister, Isabella’s.  I sense that she is to be a
threat in the near future.  We must get rid of her quickly.”

Cindy nodded,
glad to hear such a notion.

“I will get
something to you tonight,” she promised.

Amanda walked
to the desk beside the bed where several candles were lit.  The smoke filled
the air and strange aromas danced about.

“So tell me
what you think of Christian’s choice of making a farm girl his wife.  Are you
distressed?”

“I - I cried
when no one was looking,” admitted Cindy, though she never would have said it
to anyone else.  “But how could I weep for that?  I hate myself for it.  I
hardly know him!”

“Sometimes you
don’t have to know a man to know that you love him.  Sometimes it comes with a
simple glance,” Amanda said.

Cindy shook
her head and fell back against the bed.  The blue coverings gathered around
her.

“I don’t
believe it.”

“You don’t
believe what you feel is love?” Amanda asked, spreading some sort of powder
across the desk.

“I’m trying to
forget it.  All I want is to avenge my father and free myself.  I don’t want to
talk about it anymore.”

Amanda took a
deep breath of the smoky air but said nothing else

“
Cindy
!”
The call came from downstairs.

She sat up
from the bed quickly and walked from the room to keep Amanda’s secrets locked
inside. Moving to the banister, she peered down into the room below.  There,
looking up at her, was Isabella.

“I’m sorry,”
Cindy said curtly. “Did you want something?”

“I need you to
go into town for me, Cinderella.  There are a few things that Charlotte and I
need.”

“You told me
yesterday that you didn’t want me out of the house.
  Now
you are asking
me to leave?”

“Don’t
contradict me!” Isabella shouted.  “Just go get ready.  There will be a list
for you on the table when you come down.”

Cindy stared
with a straight face but then finally resolved to turn.  Isabella was up to
something, but she wasn’t sure what it could be.  Why keep Cindy shut away for
three years to let her out on a whim?  Cindy felt that it would not do to
object to the request of going to market.  If she didn’t go, chances were that
she would never find out what her sisters were plotting.  Besides, Amanda was
there to keep an eye on things.  Cindy had nothing to fear.

4

“What do you
think of this one, Christian?” asked Samantha Charming, looking at a black vest
of a different design.

She had taken
her son and his wife-to-be down to the tailor, who was to fit them with their
wedding attire.  Samantha was quite distraught to see that Christian was hardly
showing any interest. 

“
Christian
,”
Samantha called sternly, trying to get his attention.

The man turned
his face slowly from the window, looking back at Mr. Henderson, the tailor, who
held up the vest.

“That looks
exactly like the first one,” he said flatly.

The woman
sighed in annoyance but tried to remain calm in front of the others present.

“It isn’t the
same one,” she assured him harshly.

“Just pick
something out, mother,” he said. “It matters not to me.  Have the servants lay
out the clothes and tell me what time to be at the altar.”

“Why can’t you
ever just cooperate?” she hissed through her teeth, fanning herself in her
frustration.

“I thought I
was
cooperating,” he said.  “I picked a girl, like you wanted.”     

Samantha shook
her head again.  Why could he have not been like his brothers?

Christian
turned back to face the tall mirror before him.  He looked at the clothes that
his mother had already suggested he try.  He looked at the black vest with the
gold buttons that now adorned his torso and then gazed back at the other that
the tailor held. He would still swear that they were the same.

“What do you
think of this dress, Samantha?” came the voice of Sarah Thompson, Morgana’s
mother.

Samantha
motioned for Christian to turn and not look, but she had forgotten that turning
around would lead him to look straight at the tall mirror.

Morgana
stepped out of the back wearing the dress of pure white.  The color almost made
him sick; so few women could honestly wear it.  The dress fit her nicely,
pulling in her average waist and accentuating her ample breasts.  The girl was
attractive in a homely kind of way.  She actually looked quite like her cousin
– only shorter.  Christian had nearly convinced himself that she would make an
acceptable wife, but mostly he was proud that he was kept from marrying either
one of the van Burren girls, despite them being in the top favor of his mother
– especially after their own poor mother had died and they were left all alone.

I can't be
bothered with that.  Nothing matters now.

Christian let
his eyes trail back to the window.  On the street, he saw a small woman dressed
in green with a brown shawl pulled over her head and shoulders.  She was
gathering items into a basket at one of the open shops.  Funny, she reminded
him of Cindy, but he could only see the girl from behind so he did not fully
recognize her.

He stared on
at her out the window for a few brief moments before he quickly turned away. 
The girl on the street was
not
Cindy.  She couldn’t be.  He shook his
head to clear his thoughts.  He should just try not to think about it.

He had been trying
to forget about the girl in the house on the hill by being angry with her, and
even prayed that she would never come back to him for help, as he’d told her. 
Though he wanted it greatly, he did not think he could bear it.  If he was to
see her again, he was afraid it would have to be her as his bride or otherwise
he would refuse to marry at all.

He turned his
back fully on the window and went back to examining the two identical vests
before him.  Cindy was gone from his life, just as she had vanished behind the
door as a stubborn fifteen-year-old, and just as she had vanished from
existence for three years, and just as she had disappeared into the dark the
night before.  He would simply have to accept his misfortune and move on with
his unhappily married life with someone else.

He glanced at
the vest behind him, and then tugged at the one he was wearing.

“Show me
something else,” he commanded.    

5

Cindy carried
the basket back towards the house.  She had borrowed an old green dress from
her sister’s closet so as not to be dressed in rags in the marketplace. 
Isabella had fussed about her dirty attire.  Cindy had also made sure that her
short hair was tucked beneath her head wrapping.  Having short hair would only
draw attention that she didn’t want.  Only poor and disgraced women cut their
hair to sell.  They would also think that about her.

Glad that her
outing was over, Cindy looked towards the house on the hill, and for the first
time in her life, could not wait for the second she would step foot back
inside.  There was something strange in the atmosphere today and Cindy had
received one-too-many odd looks.  She sought the frightening refuge the house
could offer her.

Walking along
the street, she came to the crossing of roads that lead to the hill gate - but stopped
in her tracks at the sight there at the crossing.  Several people had gathered
from the street into a circle, yelling and waving angry fists with words she
could not hear.

A wave of
dread rushed over her.  Something wasn’t right.  What was happening?  She
looked around, locating a nearby woman who had stopped to look on at the
forming crowd.

“What’s going
on?” Cindy asked her.

“They’ve
arrested a
witch
,” she said quietly, almost as though it was a devilish
thing to say by itself.

Thousands of
thoughts rushed at Cindy, but somehow the only one that made sense was the one
she dreaded most.  She immediately dropped her basket and ran towards the crowd
of angry people.  She pushed her way through and after shoving and ignoring the
angry protests from some, she finally came upon the scene.  She shook her head
in anger and confusion.  How could this be?

“Hold her
tightly, boys,” said a gruff male voice.  “Take her to the courthouse.  We’re
sure to get a confession out of her.”

Cindy stared
on as Amanda was jerked through the crowd of gawking people.  Only a select few
dared be near her, but they dragged her through the street as though she was a
dog.  The tightness of their grips left bruises on her pale skin.  Her nose was
bloodied.  The woman’s tired black eyes trailed toward Cindy from inside her
bruised face.