Disenchanted

  “Never mind,” Em interrupted. “It is a very good thing Amy did borrow your shoes if it enabled the prince to find you. The important thing is that the prince not be kept waiting. Ella, you must get dressed at once. You should wear that same lovely ball gown that so enchanted Prince Florian…”

  She trailed off as she spied the crumpled pile of silk on the floor. As she picked up the gown, a few dried leaves fluttered loose from when I had fallen into the bushes during my effort to escape the prince. Em heaved a deep sigh as she observed the torn fabric at the waistline and the soil marks on the silvery skirts.

  “Well, perhaps not,” she said, discarding the gown atop my bed. “But you must have something suitable to wear.”

  She moved purposefully toward my wardrobe, but I got there first, barring her way before she could open the door and catch a glimpse of those strange glass shoes. I am usually very good when it comes to handling a crisis. I could only blame my slowness this morning upon lack of sleep and food.

  My wits finally reasserted themselves. I convinced Em that she needed to go down to the parlor and keep the prince entertained until I could properly attire myself to receive him. Chasing the girls off to their own rooms, I prepared to slam the door, but Amy lingered on the threshold.

  “Only think, Ella,” she cooed. “When I wed Prince Dashiel, we shall be sisters-in-law.”

  I shot her such a dark look that she hastened on her way. As soon as I was alone, I pressed my hands to my brow in an effort to think. Part of me still wanted to make a run for it. I could get dressed, climb out my window, shimmy down the vines and seek asylum with Mal in his shop…except for all those palace guards and most of the neighborhood gathered outside my garden gate. I cringed as I imagined the speculations that must be circulating through the crowd.

  The only way to put a stop to this farce was to confront the prince and refuse his proposal as politely and firmly as possible. I had no idea how Florian would take my rejection when he was sober and with half the town waiting outside. If he ended up humiliated, it was his own fault for turning this into such a public spectacle.

  I opened my wardrobe and after considering my sparse selection, I deliberately donned my oldest, most worn gown. At one time, the muslin had been dyed soft blue, but many washes had reduced the fabric to a dismal shade of grey. I did not bother brushing my hair. I just bundled it beneath an old kerchief I used when dusting.

  What a pity it was summer and my fireplace so clean. I would have been tempted to rub ash on my face as well. I still regarded my reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. I could have easily been mistaken for a scullery wench. Perhaps it was a forlorn hope that Prince Florian would be discouraged by my drab appearance, but let me see if his highness remained as eager to claim his bride after I introduced him to the workaday version of his mysterious beauty.

  I crept quietly downstairs, still in my bare feet. When I reached the parlor, I eased the door open a crack to peek inside. The majordomo stood to attention, one hand behind his back, the other supporting the silk cushion with my old shoe. Prince Florian prowled up and down the parlor, causing my stepmother to tuck her feet beneath her chair.

  Em fanned herself as she anxiously regarded the prince’s mounting impatience.

  “Oh, dear,” she murmured. “Whatever can be keeping the girl?”

  “Why don’t you go and find out?” Florian snapped.

  When Em flinched, the prince produced his charming smile and amended his tone. “That is, I would be so grateful if you did so, madam. I cannot contain my eagerness much longer.”

  That was my cue. Fortifying myself with a deep breath, I pushed open the door and announced cheerfully, “Here I am, Your Highness.”

  Em’s relief at my arrival turned to dismay as she took in my appearance. The majordomo was too well bred a servant to display any overt reaction, but his eyebrows arched slightly.

  The prince halted in the middle of the parlor. He looked me up and down in disbelief. “Who is this?”

  “Why, Your Highness, it is I. Bella.” I simpered and dipped into a demure curtsy.

  Prince Florian appeared so thunderstruck, I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. Em ruined everything by hurrying toward me and exclaiming, “This is my oldest daughter, Prunella. She is so witty and playful, always ready with a jest. She keeps us all in stitches.”

  Em forced a nervous titter. “It is quite naughty of you, Ella, to tease your poor prince so by dressing up like a beggar woman.”

  Em wrenched the kerchief from my head and made a desperate attempt to finger my hair into some semblance of order. I pushed her hand away, but the prince’s daunted expression had lightened at the sight of my blond tresses tumbling about my face.

  “You see?” Em said. “This is the girl you are looking for. The one that so charmed Your Highness last night.”

  The prince studied me through narrowed eyes. “Perhaps. Majordomo, the shoe.” Florian snapped his fingers at the servant as though summoning a dog.

  If the little man minded, his impassive face gave no sign of it. He came forward, solemnly bearing the pillow.

  “When my lovely lady vanished last night, the only clue she left me was this shoe.” Florian struck a pose, clasping his hand over his heart. “I swore I would wed no other than the beauty whose foot fits into that slipper.”

  Em signed at this romantic declaration, but I merely cocked one eyebrow in skeptical fashion. I was fairly certain by this time that Florian recognized me from last night, so what was the man playing at? I had no idea what had inspired this idiotic game with my shoe, but the prince had greatly miscalculated.

  That dancing slipper would likely fit a great many women in this kingdom, but thanks to Amy stretching out the leather, I was not one of them. As the majordomo knelt to try the shoe on me, I suppressed my gleeful anticipation of the prince’s chagrin when the slipper did not fit. I would not be obliged to endure another proposal from him, after all. Having made such a melodramatic vow, what else could he do but gather up my shoe and slink away?

  I thrust my bare foot forward and heard Em suppress a mortified groan. Because I had been running around outside this morning, my foot was not exactly clean. The majordomo, however, was not deterred by my grubby appendage. He took my foot gently in his hand and worked the shoe over my toes. My foot was sore from last night, but I did not realize until that moment that it was slightly swollen. The majordomo slipped my heel into the dancing slipper.

  I stared down at my foot in horrified disbelief. That frapping shoe fit me like a glove.

  Em clapped her hands together in delight as the prince exclaimed, “My beloved!”

  I yanked my foot off the stool and stumbled back as the prince rushed toward me, knocking the majordomo out of his way. Dreading another sloppy kiss, I clapped my hand over my mouth.

  The prince seized both of my hands in a firm grip. “My dear lady! Do you realize the depth of my despair when I thought I had lost you? I have been searching my entire kingdom for you.”

  “Truly?” I asked wryly. “I was under the impression that the aura cat led you directly to my doorstep.”

  An odd cough escaped the majordomo, almost as though he had suppressed a chuckle. When I glanced in his direction, he stared woodenly at the fireplace screen. A faint look of annoyance creased Florian’s brow, quickly smoothed away beneath his smile as he continued, “What I meant was, I feel as though I have been searching for you all of my life. Every year I have attended the royal ball, praying that I would find my one true love, and every year, I have my hopes dashed again and again. I had almost resolved never to attend another ball, so wearied was I. But this year was very different. Do you know why?”

  “The ball was much more crowded?” I ventured.

  “No. It was different because you were there, my beautiful…” He paused, groping for my name.

  My stepmother came to his rescue, filling in eagerly, “Prunella. But we all call her Ella.”

  “Ella
.” Florian murmured.

  I shrank back, tugging my hands free as he leaned closer and attempted to employ his soulful trick of staring deep into my eyes. The effect was ruined since his were rather bloodshot.

  “Ella, do you believe in love at first sight? That it is possible to meet someone’s eyes across a crowded room and realize you have found your destiny?”

  “No, I do not.” I stopped myself from adding, Not anymore.

  It would not have mattered what I said. The prince paid little heed to my answer as he went on, “Thus it was for me. From the moment I first saw you, you enchanted me so completely, you were etched forever upon my heart.”

  “And yet you required an old shoe to identify me,” I said.

  “Ah well, that is because last night with you passed in such a dream. I was so dazed with love.”

  No, I believe it is called pixie dust, I wanted to retort so badly, I had to bite my tongue.

  Florian sighed. “The last that I remember is strolling with you in the moonlight, enjoying the fireworks.”

  I managed not to roll my eyes. My memory of what happened in the garden was very different. It seemed that Mal was correct about the hazy effect pixie dust had upon the brain.

  “We were having such a magical time together.” Florian regarded me with reproach. “But then, alas, you disappeared! Why did you flee from me, Ella? Without so much as a kiss goodbye?”

  Because I didn’t want your tongue jammed down my throat again.

  As I struggled to find a more tactful answer, Em spoke up hastily. “My youngest daughter, Amy, was taken ill and needed to be conveyed home at once. Ella is such a devoted sister. Naturally she wished to be at Amy’s side.”

  “More than she wished to be with me—” the prince began in an irritated tone, but he stopped.

  “Never mind,” he said, waving his hand in a magniloquent gesture. “I have entirely forgiven her for deserting me. The important thing is that I have found her again. But I have been so swept away by my feelings that I have quite forgotten the proprieties.”

  The prince swept my stepmother an elegant bow. “Madam, I trust I have your approval to pay my addresses to your lovely daughter.”

  I shook my head, frantically trying to signal Em, but my stepmother was so dazzled by Florian, there was no hope she would refuse.

  Clasping her hands to her bosom, she breathed, “Oh, yes, most certainly, Your Highness. And what about the king? I daresay you have his blessing?”

  Florian’s face darkened. He snapped, “I am a fully grown man and the heir to the throne. I do not require my father’s permission.”

  Em had obviously prodded a sore spot with the prince. His mouth twisted into a sour expression as he went on, “After all, was that not the purpose of my father’s ball last night, to find me a bride? The very reason that every wench—I mean lady in the kingdom grabbed up those tickets in hopes of winning a prince as the ultimate prize?”

  I had thought Florian lapped up all that attention and thoroughly enjoyed being the object of so much feminine desire, but perhaps the man possessed a sensitive side I had never suspected.

  “I was not one of those ladies,” I assured him. “I did not attend the ball with any thought of winning you.”

  “I realize that.” Florian’s bitter expression softened into a smile. “And that is why you have won.”

  He prepared to drop to one knee before me. I grabbed hold of his arm to prevent him.

  “Oh, please do not do that.”

  His brows arched in surprise. “Do you not wish that I should kneel before you as I pour out my heart and beg for your hand in marriage?”

  “No, please. No pouring or—or begging. I am sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot possibly marry you.”

  My refusal came out blunter than I had intended. I heard a faint whimper of protest escape from Em. The prince merely stared at me as though I had lost my mind.

  “Why not?” he demanded. “Never tell me that someone else has already claimed you.”

  “No, my daughter is quite unattached,” Em spoke up quickly. I scowled at her and she scowled right back, but with a hint of pleading in her eyes.

  “I am relieved to hear that,” Florian said. “I would hate to have to fight for you, Ella, but I would. I would slay any man in the kingdom to win you.”

  A bolt of alarm shot through me. I was terrified what the prince might do if he ever discovered there was another man whom I vastly preferred to him, the royally appointed commander of the Midtown garrison, Horatio Crushington.

  “There will be no fighting,” I said firmly, concealing my fear. “I have always found the notion of two men battling over a woman utterly ridiculous, as though she had no say in the matter. I am no prize to be won, any more than you are.”

  “Of course not.” The prince soothed me. “But if your hand has not been bestowed elsewhere, I cannot understand why you will not consider me as a bridegroom.” He shook back his hair and chuckled. “I do not believe that I am repulsive and I am the heir to the throne. I could fulfill your every desire.”

  “Except for the most important one—love.”

  “But I have already told you how much I adore—”

  “But I do not love you. I am sensible of the honor you do me and I have no wish to cause you pain. The truth is that I do not even really know you.”

  What I did know of Florian left me with no desire to further the acquaintance, but I hid that thought behind a rueful smile as I said, “I am truly sorry, Your Highness.”

  As it slowly dawned upon the prince that I was sincere in my refusal, something ugly flashed in Florian’s eyes. His glare was so black, I retreated a step.

  Then suddenly his face cleared.

  “Ah, I see what it is.” He grinned. “You wish to be pursued. I really like that in a girl.”

  “No! I don’t wish that at all. I hate being pursed. Even when I was a child, I never liked to play hide and tag.”

  Florian laughed and playfully pinched my chin. “Nonsense, you need not be ashamed to admit it. I know right well all of you ladies enjoy being chased by an ardent suitor.”

  A disquieting gleam came into his eye. “I promise you, my dear Ella, I shall pursue you as no woman has ever been pursued before.”

  Promise? Why did that sound more like a threat? I attempted to protest, but the prince waved all my objections aside.

  “Alas, my beloved, other pressing business calls me from your side. But I shall return forthwith to commence my wooing and you shall have all of my devotion you could desire.”

  What I desired was to smash a vase over his thick head, anything to force him to listen to me. But Florian was already striding from the room. He headed toward the front door, Em trailing after him.

  I could hear my stepmother telling the prince how shy and modest I was. After I was not so overwhelmed by the honor of his highness’s proposal, Em insisted that she was sure I would accept him.

  Groaning, I flopped wearily down upon the settee. A soft footfall startled me into sitting upright as the majordomo crept forward to retrieve the pillow. The colorless little man blended so well into the woodwork, one had a tendency to forget he was there. His face might have been the most impassive one I had ever seen, but those eyes of his were ever alert. His watchful gaze rested upon me in a thoughtful fashion that rendered me uncomfortable, just as he had done at the ball. I recalled his response when the king had exclaimed about how greatly I resembled my mother.

  “Is that not true, Majordomo? Is not this girl Cecily’s very image?”

  “Indeed, she is sire. Except for her eyes. She has her father’s eyes.”

  I still could not decide what lay behind the majordomo’s remark. Had he meant it as a warning to the king? His Majesty had certainly behaved as if it was, dropping my hand as though my skin oozed poison.

  The majordomo struck me as the sort of servant who would be good at keeping secrets. I wondered how many he had kept for the king over the years and how m
any of those had involved my parents.

  It struck me that here was my chance to resolve some of my questions concerning my father’s past. I might never have another such opportunity.

  The majordomo bowed to me and was already halfway out the door when I leapt up and cried, “Sir, wait!”

  He paused on the threshold to look inquiringly back at me.

  “Your pardon, sir.” I summoned up what I hoped was a winning smile. “From something you said to the king last night, I gather that you knew my mother.”

  “I did indeed, Miss Upton,” he replied courteously.

  “And my father.”

  “Yes.”

  “You knew him well?”

  The majordomo nodded.

  “Did you know him for a long time?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Did you like my father?”

  “Indeed, yes. He was a man worthy of respect.” The majordomo hesitated as though weighing his words. “Julius Upton was the most honorable man I have ever known, true to his beliefs, often to his own detriment. Extremely intelligent, but alas not always as wise as he should have been.”

  The little man gave me a gentle smile. “When it comes to making decisions that will affect the course of your life, I trust you will be much wiser, Miss Upton.”

  He bowed and scurried on his way, leaving me staring after him and wondering what exactly he had meant by that. Was the king’s servant advising me to accept the prince’s proposal or was he warning me not to do so? Or could there possibly be something else behind his words that had nothing to do with Florian?

  I doubted I would gain anything more from questioning the majordomo, but I could not just let that enigmatic remark go unchallenged. I hurried after him, but he had already vanished out the front door.

  Only my stepmother remained in the front hall and she was actually wringing her hands. She directed a look at me that was part plea, part reproach.

  “Prunella Upton. We have to talk.”

  “Not now, Em,” I said, darting past her.

  “But what could you possibly have been thinking of—”

  “Later,” I insisted as I hastened out the front door.