The Ugly Stepsister (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 1) (38 page)

I’ll try the ballroom. Taking care not to trip over my gown, I start toward the staircase. To my surprise, a few admiring glances are cast my way. One man even stops and asks who I am, then proceeds to invite me dance the opening waltz with him.

“No, thanks,” I say, trying not to look impatient. I’ve got to find either Bianca or Edward. “I don’t plan on dancing.”

He scowls and walks off, muttering, “Thinks she’s only good enough for the prince.”

“You have it the wrong way,” a familiar voice says. “Only the prince is good enough for her.”

Mr. Wellesley, dressed in a formal suit and tie. If I hadn’t heard his voice, I wouldn’t have recognized him.

I can’t help but pause for a moment. “Mr. Wellesley! How are things going with you?”

“Keeping the shop busy running as usual,” he says, grinning. “Also discussing with more laborers about amending another law. But let’s not talk of work tonight! Would you favor me with a dance later, my bonny lassie?”

“I’d love to, but I can’t. Have you seen the prince?” Then, seeing the knowing grin on his face, I quickly say, “no, it’s not like that! I have something important to tell him.”

“Kat!” This time it’s Poppy. She’s beautiful in a lavender dress and golden earrings. Mr. Davenport stands behind her, smiling broadly. Also behind her—to my surprise—are Sir Montgomery and a pretty blonde woman who must be Poppy’s mother. There’s something familiar about Lady Montgomery, but I can’t figure out what it is. I’m pretty sure we were never introduced.

“Mrs. Davenport,” I grin. “So glad you made it back to the capital in time.”

“Did you just arrive?” Poppy asks, returning me a bright smile.

“Yes, I…”

Krev materializes in thin air. “Eddie’s in the ballroom. Bianca is near him.”

Damn!

“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” I gasp. “I—er—nature calls. I’ll see you later!”

Not caring if it’s appropriate for a lady to say she has to run to the bathroom, I give them an apologetic smile and run off. My heart feels like beating in my ears—I must stop Bianca!

I pound up the staircase, ignoring other guests who stare as I rush by. Pierre would cry if he saw me. A lady doesn’t race up the stairs like an overactive child.

I burst into the ballroom—or rather, ballrooms. The room I stand in stretches into another, with only a carved, gilded arch in the ceiling between the rooms. Heavy crimson curtains part to reveal tall windows two stories high. A huge chandelier that resembles a small boat hangs from the ceiling—it must hold hundreds of candles. I squeeze through the guests to the adjoining room, which has a balcony on the second floor. In the middle of the balcony is this huge double-wide crimson-gold throne; two people wearing crowns sit on the throne. My heart beats faster—they must be the king and queen.

Then my attention returns to Krev; he’s hovering near a marble pillar, pointing below.

Edward is conversing with Henry and some other well-dressed young men beside the pillar. Hordes of girls hover like vultures near them.

The girl nearest me makes an impatient noise.

“Why don’t they hurry up? The music has been playing for ages!”

“Shhh! The prince
will
dance, sooner or later,” a middle-aged woman hisses. “Wipe off that pout and smile your prettiest. You don’t want to look sour if His Highness glances your direction.”

Then I spot Bianca edging her way to the pillar. I don’t know how she does it—maybe she pokes her fan into anyone who stands in her way—but gradually she’s getting closer and closer to Edward. I wouldn’t put it past her to ask him to dance, and since he’s the host tonight, it’s unlikely he’d refuse.

Bianca adjusts the white gloves. One touch, and Edward would be under her spell.

I can’t let that happen.

FORTY-ONE

A scream rises from the girl who was whining to her mother.

“Eeek! There’s a mouse! A big one!”

“Girlie!” Krev yells. “Now’s your chance!”

There’s no time to speculate how he found the mouse, but I’m grateful anyway. While the girls around me start screaming and jumping, I race toward the pillar and grab Edward’s arm.

“Kat?” he gasps.

“Just shut up and come with me,” I hiss.

He does not protest as I drag him away, with only one thing on my mind: get him away from Bianca. But since I’ve no idea of the palace’s layout—a thousand rooms are enough to make anyone get lost in—somehow I end up in this huge deserted hallway with a dead end. I grab the nearest knob, yank the door open, and shove him inside. I follow after him, shut the door and lean my back against it.

It’s pitch dark inside and smells like acid. My foot brushes against a bunch of stiff twigs—it seems to be a broom. Oh my God. We’ve ended up in a tiny storage room for cleaning supplies.

“Your Highness?” Bianca’s voice comes from the hallway.

Damn! I hope the mere sound of her voice is not going to work on him. It’s too dark to make out his expression, though I’m sure it’s pure shock now.

“What are you do…”

I put a hand over his mouth. “Listen,” I whisper. “Bianca got a spell from the fairies, which is supposed to work on you. Once she touches you with her glove, you’ll fall in love with her.”

His lips move beneath my palm; startled by the sensation, I pull away.

“Are you serious?” Fortunately he also keeps his voice low. “A
spell
? That she plans to use on me?”

“I’ll explain later how she got it, but yes. Once you’re mad for her, you’ll propose and announce to everyone she is your bride. That’s why I tried to get you away as soon as I could. Did you think I kidnapped you just for the fun of it?”

A low chuckle escapes him.

More footsteps echo outside. “Where did he go?” A servant’s voice. “Perhaps he went back to the ballroom?” Another says. “No…I’m sure he went down this way…”

“Damn,” I whisper. “Why can’t they just leave?”

“We could go out.”

Like I could risk it. What conclusion will the servants draw when I emerge from this tiny room with the prince?

I can almost feel his breath over my head; he is too close. I try to step aside and my foot catches a dustpan or something. I stumble, let out a tiny shriek, and next thing I know, his arms are around me, holding me upright.

For a second, we both freeze. Then I start to struggle, but he simply tightens his embrace. He bends his head—his lips brush my ear—a tingling sensation sweeps through me.

“Hush, love,” he whispers. “Unless you want to create a racket and let them find us in here?”

From the tone of his voice, he doesn’t seem to care if we’re caught. But I can’t risk being found. So I stop struggling, which gives him free rein to gather me closer to his chest. His lips skim my forehead, longingly, as though to imprint his mark on me, and then across my eyelids, making me hot and flushed and embarrassed.

“You…” I speak through my teeth. “You…you
opportunist
.”

“So I am,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my face. “Every time I try to draw you to me, you push me away. You can hardly be surprised that I’d use the current moment to my advantage.”

“But I told you the reason I can’t—”

Edward cuts me off, his mouth clamping firmly over mine. The kiss is demanding, desperate, full of passion.
I want you
, it says.
Stop running away from me
. I can’t push him away without making noise. And alarmingly, I don’t want to.

When he finally releases me, both of us are panting for air.

“Kat,” he says hoarsely, his breath ragged. “Even though you tell me you are from another world…I can’t imagine choosing anyone but you.”

My heart contracts. A lump forms in my throat. For a second, I want to say I’ll stay, but on the other hand, I
can’t
leave the family I’ve known for seventeen years in favor of someone I’ve known less than a year. They need me more than Edward does. I can’t abandon them like Dad did to us.

We stand in silence in the cramped dark room.

“I believe they’re all gone,” Edward says quietly.

I press my ear to the door. Unless someone is lying in ambush, we’re safe. Still, I make him promise not to step out until I ascertain there isn’t anyone in the hall.

Nope.

I sigh, relieved. A lock of my hair falls across my forehead—damn, it’s all his fault for messing up my hair.

“Aren’t we going down to the ballroom?”

“Now?”

“You promised to open the dancing with me.” He taps me lightly on the forehead. “Come along, darling. Everyone is probably speculating what you and I are doing by now.”

Crap, he’s right. My face feels like going up in flames when I remember what we were doing in that tiny storage room.

“But what about Bianca?” I say. “What if she sneaks up on you? I can’t let her get you.”

Edward grins. “I’ll take care of it.” We proceed down the corridor until a servant appears. Edward hails him and tells him to find Bertram.

“Tell him to guard Bianca Bradshaw,” he says. “She is not to come within twenty feet of us. I wish to dance with my lady undisturbed.”

The servant glances at me curiously, then bows and hurries away.

When we return to the ballroom, all eyes are on us. Like we’re walking the red carpet at the Oscars. I wish I had the invisibility cloak Meg made for me. Next to me, Edward chuckles softly.

“Nervous?”

“Of course I am!” I try to pull my hand from his grasp, but he refuses to let go. “Every girl is staring daggers at me.”

He merely smiles and signals to the orchestra. A combination of violins, flutes, and clarinets hum through the air.

My heart hammers fast and hard as Edward leads me to the center of the ballroom. For all the talk of him disliking social events, he seems to be enjoying himself. The smile he wears has faded to a tiny enigmatic curve at his lips.

I tear my gaze away from his face and glance around. Lady Bradshaw looks petrified with shock—I’m sure if you gave her a push, she’d fall over. Poppy and Mr. Davenport are holding hands and smiling broadly. Mr. Wellesley gives us a lopsided grin and two thumbs-up. Bianca has her trademark ice-queen face, but her eyes are full of fury. If Bertram weren’t standing in front of her, his arm slightly stretched out as if to prevent a wild bull from charging, she might well try to kill me, ball or no ball.

And above on the balcony, the queen has left her seat on the throne and is leaning over the balustrade. I can’t see her expression clearly, but I’m pretty sure she’s looking at us.

“Kat.”

I snap my attention back to Edward, who’s regarding me with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“Relax,” he takes my hand. “Considering what little time we have left together, why not forget about your mission—if only for a few minutes?”

His other arm slides over my waist and pulls me so close that I bump my nose on his chest. Even Pierre wouldn’t approve of such blatant intimacy. And in the middle of the ballroom, in front of hundreds of guests.

I send him a glare and tread on his foot in retaliation. He doesn’t seem to mind—he bends his head and whispers in my ear, “I love you.”

I go rigid with shock. It’s so sweet of him to say that, but so cruel as well. He’s making it doubly difficult for me to say goodbye.

But I’ve no chance to argue with him. The waltz has begun, and it takes all my concentration not to make a fool of myself on the dance floor. I step forward, back, twirl, lean back, keeping in beat with the music. Lucky for me, Edward’s a good leader. When I gradually get used to the pace and moves, the moment does have a surreal quality. Magical. A dance that I wish would last forever.

But the song has to end. There’s always an end.

As the music fades away, I notice the guests near the entrance are turning their heads and whispering among each other.

Through the open doors, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen enters.

Cinderella has arrived.

And it’s just like the story. Partly due to her own beauty, and partly due to some charm the fairies must have cast on her, Elle commands the attention of everyone in the ballroom.

The snowy white ball gown Meg created is simply perfect for Elle, flowing around her in a glittering mist of diamonds and silk. A silver tiara sits on her golden hair, which is piled high on her head, allowing a generous view of her creamy skin from neck to collarbone. Her big blue eyes are wide with awe as she takes in the ballroom, her lips slightly parted. If I hadn’t seen the dress before, I wouldn’t recognize her. The ugly (not so ugly in the beginning) duckling has fully transformed into a swan.

Even Edward is staring. I ignore the sourness rising in my chest and tell myself this is my cue to leave. It’s what I wanted all along, for the prince to fall in love with Cinderella. I start to back away, inch by inch, but before I can disappear unnoticed, his arm curls firmly around my waist, effectively preventing my escape.

Warmth tingles through my body—Edward hasn’t forgotten me, even though he was temporarily struck by Elle’s beauty. But on the other hand, I’m at a loss what to do now. I look around for Krev, but the goblin has disappeared. Or is just hiding from me. It’s too simple to duck behind those pillars and curtains.

And then an angry voice slices through the air.

“How dare you!” Lady Bradshaw hisses. She points an accusing finger at Elle. “Where did you steal that dress? How did you sneak inside the palace?”

She moves toward Elle as if to shake her, but Henry steps out and grabs Lady Bradshaw’s arm.

“Consider where you are,” he says, his tone courteous but unyielding. “You do not want to make a scene at the prince’s ball.”

Some anger melts from Lady Bradshaw, but she doesn’t move.

“She is my servant,” she snarls. “She has no right to be here.”

Murmurs of disbelief and amazement ripple through the guests.

“She has an invitation,” Henry says calmly. “There is no way she could have entered without it.”

Lady Bradshaw lifts her chin. “Do you dare deny it, Elle? You have worked at my house for ten years and this is how you repay me?”