The Ugly Stepsister (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 1) (31 page)

I clasp my hands together. Of course he’d find my story incredible. I suppose I should be relieved he hasn’t called me a lunatic and ordered to have me taken to an asylum.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” I say.

A soft smile spreads over his face. “Would that I could forget.”

“Henry was surprised that I recognized iodine. But that’s not unusual in my world. Girls are given the same opportunity in education. At school, I have to take chemistry, physics, and math, as well as history and literature. I don’t need to learn how to pour tea or perform the court curtsy.”

“Which is why you lost your balance during your presentation?”

I make a face at him. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“This explains things.” He rubs his temple. “Your peculiar phrases, your support for public welfare, your belief that classes should be abolished. It explains why you, a lady of privilege, have gotten such strange notions.”

“I’m not that special,” I quickly say. “Seriously, you’re giving me more credit than I deserve. The only reason I’m different from other girls is because of my upbringing. If my best friend had ripped up that book and come here instead of me, you would have been intrigued with and fallen in love with her instead.”

“That I can’t be certain of. Even if every girl in your world thinks in similar terms, I doubt everyone would have the courage to conduct the interviews and hand out pamphlets. And throw wine over insolent factory owners.”

We laugh, but only briefly. He crosses his arms and gives me a twisted smile. “Therefore, according to your explanation, I must marry your maid servant?”

“Stepsister,” I say. “At least I think she is. Even though Martha says the earl’s daughter is dead, it has been confirmed that Adam Snyder worked for my mother, and he was the one who brought Elle to Mrs. Thatcher. I’ve got to find evidence that Elle is really Earl Bradshaw’s daughter, and also seek out her godmother.”

He looks down at the ground. I have the sudden urge to go and put my arms around him, but I can’t. If he kisses me again, I’m not sure I’ll have the strength or will to stop him this time.

“So…” I struggle to continue. “That’s it. Nothing you did is wrong. It’s all me.”

He doesn’t answer. I have never known silence could be so painful.

“You could stay,” he says softly. “You don’t have to break the curse.”

“I can’t.” I hear the crack in my voice. “I have my family back in Oakleigh. My mother and Paige—I can’t cut them off. I must return to the modern world. Please, listen to me. Marry Elle; she’ll be the perfect bride. In time, in years, you will forget about me.”

He passes a hand over his eyes. His voice is low, but not low enough that I cannot hear him. “As if that were possible.”

“Please.” I blink away the tears that are welling up in my eyes. “If you really like me, then you have to let me return to my family.”

Then he locks his gaze on mine, and I could cry. Anything,
anything
, to wipe off that horribly dejected look on his face.

“I understand the necessity of your leaving,” he says, though every word seems to be forced through his teeth. “It would be selfish to hinder you. But I must know one thing. Have you ever truly loved me?”

Tell him no. It’ll be easier for him to forget.

A tear rolls down my cheek. “Yes,” I whisper. “I…I keep telling myself I shouldn’t fall for you, but I can’t help it.”

Relief floods his face. “Good.” He catches me in his arms, pulls me against his chest and rests his chin on my head. For a moment, I’m living in paradise. I breathe in his scent and cling to his back, listening to the water running from the nearby fountain and birds chirping in leafy branches.

Then he kisses me, a hard, desperate kiss on the lips, and pushes me toward the door.

“Go.”

THIRTY-THREE

“Krev? How long have you been here?”

He settles on the nightstand next to my bed. “Your eyes are as swollen as peaches. What happened, girlie?”

I pull my blanket up to my chin.

“The king’s curious,” Krev presses on. “I’ve seen in the papers that the bill Eddie proposed has just passed today, so you can now focus on your goal. In fact, how are things going between you and Eddie now? Have you convinced him to go for Elle, now that she’s working in the palace?”

“Memory charm,” I blurt. “I need one. I want to erase Edward’s memories of me. I can’t go on like this.”

“Aha! Did Eddie profess his love for you? Did he get on his knees? Did he say something like, ‘O my fair Katriona, put me out of my misery?’”

“Shut up!” I throw my tear-stained pillow at him.

“I guess he did confess his feelings then?” Krev looks gleeful. “Excellent. Morag bet against the king and looks like she won. And since you’ve been bawling, I suppose you refused him as well?”

I glower. “My life is not a stupid bet. Tell your stupid king to change his damned rules. I’ve had enough of them.”

“Calm down, girlie, you don’t want me reporting to the king that you cursed him. He wouldn’t make life for you easier. Besides, you already made huge progress, didn’t you? You still have the power to change Eddie’s mind. You can go find that spell of love and he’ll fall for Cinderella.”

“But Elle doesn’t love him. It’s Henry she wants.”

“Well, get another spell for her then.” Krev shrugs. “Look, you didn’t have to refuse Eddie. You could have just told him you’re looking forward to the ball. He’d have been happy, and then you could have given him the spell during the ball.”

“That’s a dirty trick,” I say. “He deserves to know the truth. I told him I wasn’t from Athelia, and I told him about the curse and the book.”

Krev falls off the dresser. A second later, he rises into the air, his wings flapping.

“YOU DISCLOSED EVERYTHING?” he splutters. “And he believed you?”

I nod. “He told me it accounted for my unusual behavior.”

Krev rolls his eyes. “Did you tell him about the spell that you plan to use on him?”

I don’t speak. It’s heartless of me, I know, but even though I thought Edward deserved to know the truth, I did not have the courage to tell him I planned to dupe him.

I close my eyes for a second. Images of my family, like slideshows on a website, flash through my mind, still vivid as ever. Paige begging me to tell her a story before bedtime. Mom yelling at me and Paige to get up in the morning. The three of us gathered at the television, poking fun at corny lines and stupid commercials.

I’ve got to finish the fairy tale.

Our plan to escape is pretty simple. Mr. Davenport hires this carriage, which will pick me up when Lady Bradshaw takes Bianca shopping. Although they agreed upon Bianca’s ball gown yesterday (after a whole hour of arguing), it’s now time to decide on her accessories. I hope they’ll spend the entire morning and even into the afternoon in the shopping district.

I pen a note for Lady Bradshaw, explaining that I’ve gone to the earl’s estate for a trip. After nearly getting attacked by Mr. Tolliver, I want to lie low for a while. It’s a pretty flimsy excuse, but it’ll have to do. Martha promises that she won’t tell Lady Bradshaw where I went, but I doubt it’ll matter. Once it leaks out that Poppy and Mr. Davenport are missing, Claire will definitely report to Bianca.

I touch the lily that Lady Gregory asked me to use to get to Lysander. Although the material has a silk-like texture, the lily itself feels warm, alive, like a real plant. As if I needed proof that magic (other than Krev’s appearance) exists, here it is.

Martha enters my bedroom and flaps an arm at me impatiently. “They’re here, miss! You’d better go down before the rest of the house starts to wonder.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks, Martha. I’ll be back as soon as the wedding is over.”

She nods. “You didn’t forget to bring that extra set of underclothes? And the cashmere shawl? The weather up north may be fickle, even in summer.”

“I’ve got everything packed,” I smile. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

She pats my hand. “Stay safe, miss.”

The carriage awaits at the back door. It looks almost new, being clean and well polished. When I climb in, I notice it’s large enough to hold four people. The cushions aren’t lumpy like the ones in Van’s hansom. It’s nicer than I thought Mr. Davenport could afford. Great. I appreciate the comfort for making this dreadfully long journey.

Inside, Poppy is pale and quiet. She huddles with Mr. Davenport, looking afraid.

“Morning.” I tuck my bag under my feet. “You’ll be fine, Poppy. Think about it. If you didn’t escape in time, your father would have found you and you’d be sent home to prepare for your upcoming marriage with your cousin.”

She straightens. “I’d never marry him. A few days on the road will be easier to tolerate than a lifetime with him.”

Mr. Davenport squeezes her hand and sends me a grateful smile.

“I’ve been worrying that you wouldn’t have the gumption to marry me,” he says, smoothing her hair in a gesture that reminds me of Edward. “There’s still time, you know. Though I can’t answer for the consequences when we’re out of the city.”

Poppy swats his arm. “Stop it, Jonathan. You’re not helping my nerves.”

They argue for a while—nothing volcanic—while I lean back in the seat and try to relax. What also seems like a crazy plan is my suddenly running away.

The carriage rattles on the street until I feel like dozing off. After a while, however, it slows to a halt.

“Is there a traffic jam?” I lift the edge of the curtains.

Davenport also peers out. “We’ve reached the gates. They’ll check on us, make sure we’re not carrying illegal goods, and it’ll be fine. Once we’re out of the city, it’ll be harder for Poppy’s relatives to track her.”

“Illegal products,” Poppy teases him. “You’re a solicitor and look, you’re evading the law itself.”

“Only for you,” he grins. “Anyway, it’s nothing to worry about. We all look respectable enough, the carriage is kept in great order, and they aren’t as strict with the checking when it’s leaving the city.”

We halt. Someone raps on the door. Mr. Davenport gives Poppy and I a warning glance, then he opens the door and sticks his head out.

“I’m taking my sisters back home up north,” he says, in a distinctly different accent. I wonder how he does it.

“Are you Mr. Davenport, by any chance?”

The voice sounds familiar; I peek out the window. Bertram stands among a few burly guards; his eyes light up with recognition when his gaze finds me.

“Finally found you,” he says and makes to climb in. Mr. Davenport plants a hand on his chest firmly. I’ve got to give him points for not being intimidated by Bertram’s enormous frame.

“Sir!” Mr. Davenport says sternly. “Under which law of this country is a stranger is permitted to enter another person’s private property?”

Bertram scratches his head. “I’m here to accompany Miss Katriona on her journey, sir. On His Highness’s orders.”

Now everyone stares at me. I’m dumbstruck as well.

“Mr. Davenport, let him in,” I say. “Let me ask him some questions first.”

“You have seen him in the prince’s service?” Mr. Davenport says.

“Yes.”

At the same time, the other city guards are yelling at us to get moving, as we’re holding up the procession. Bertram enters the carriage and grunts; he is so tall that his head has bumped into the roof. As a result, I am forced to edge to the farthest side of my seat.

“Sorry about that, miss,” Bertram says, unbuckling his sword and laying it beneath his feet. “But His Highness tells me I’ve got to protect you for your whole journey. He has entrusted me to see you safely back, so I ain’t going to mess it up.”

Poppy shoots me an incredulous look that I easily translate into, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Did he…” Heat rushes to my cheeks, so I focus on a spot behind Bertram’s head. “So he told you to wait at the gates?”

Bertram nods, grinning. I guess Edward didn’t tell him about my refusal, or I doubt he’d look so cheerful.

“Say, are you two really heading up to Ruby Red?” He addresses Mr. Davenport and Poppy. “By the name of the king, don’t look so scared. I’ve got orders to look after Lady Kat.”

“Lady Kat?” Poppy interrupts, eyebrows raised.

Bertram grins. “His Highness calls her Kat, so I’ve adopted it. Anyway, as I said, I don’t mean any harm. Besides, I reckon you can use an extra witness at the altar.”

Mr. Davenport still regards him warily. “And how did you know that we were leaving for Ruby Red? You were expecting us to pass the gates, weren’t you?”

Bertram darts a furtive glance at me. I cough. Might as well get it over with.

“Um, sorry, but he wormed it out of me. His Highness, I mean. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to betray you, but I don’t believe Edward—I mean His Highness—is the kind of person to meddle in private affairs, or I would have warned you.”

“His Highness wanted to invite Lady Kat out to tea today,” Bertram adds. “But since she had agreed to accompany you, he wouldn’t give her peace until she told him she was going to Ruby Red. You needn’t worry about them being overheard, sir, they were in His Highness’s private garden.”

Thank you, Bertram. You’ve been reeeeally helpful.

By now, Poppy is staring at me with her mouth half open. Even Mr. Davenport casts a doubtful glance in my direction.

“Do I have your word that you are accompanying us solely for the protection of Miss Katriona Bradshaw? That in the unlikely case her father pursues us, you will help us escape?”

Bertram holds out his hand. “You can count on me, sir. Actually I should thank you. I’ve always been curious what a Ruby Red wedding is like, and since me mam would hang me if I tried to run away, this is the closest I’ll get.”

We pass the next hour mostly in harmless chatter about the weather and travel. I can tell Poppy is bursting with curiosity; she’s twisting her handkerchief until it looks like a crumpled rag, and she keeps looking in my direction but refrains from speaking.