The Wronged Princess - Book I Page 11

  “Mamán, Papá. If you will excuse me for the evening?”

  “Of course, dear.” The spark of relief in her expression confirmed his suspicions. But of course it was gone before it could register.

  “By the by, Mamán, thank you for the invitation to the lake.” He could not resist the jab. And by her pained expression it met its mark. He nodded to an efficient servant who managed to beat him to the door and slipped through. Arnald followed fast on his heels.

  “Do you foresee a problem?” Arnald asked, softly.

  “I am not certain.” Prince stopped in the large hallway and cocked an ear but all he heard were soft murmurings from round the corner. On stealthy steps they made their way to the turn.

  His worry must have been for naught for all he could make out was Pricilla’s amusing rendition of he and Arnald’s untimely intrusion from the late afternoon. He peered in time to see Eutilla loop her arm through Cinderella’s. In time to catch a wary glance pass between them. Her clasp on Cinderella’s arm suggested one of protection.

  A flurry of shimmers hung in the air as his eyes followed Cinderella’s slender form down the corridor. Apparently, he was not the only one whose protective bone showed itself when she was about. Something lessened the restriction in his chest. It brought out an attractive side of Elsela….er…Esmeralda. While it did not change his tune regarding their upcoming nuptials, it did, however, raise her up in his eyes.

  Prince smiled at fancying himself as Cinderella’s shield. Something most familiar about her touched him, something that remained just out of conscious reach.

  He shook the rambling thoughts from his head. Were there not enough problems with this impending marriage? And now his mother proposing a betrothal ball to introduce Eutullie to all of Chalmers? Again, the thought struck him she had something up her magician-nistic sleeve. The picnic with Alessandro Lecce bore the proof. He smelled a rat. A very clever rat. It was past time to come up with a plan.

  Too bad all his mind could draw was a huge resounding blank.

  Chapter 17

  “What an evil wicked woman. She is a disgrace to the gender.” Thomasine shuddered and shook her head. “Regardless…”

  “Sit down, Thomasine. You are making me as jittery as a pot of crabs readied for their drop in boiling water.”

  Thomasine dropped into a wooden chair sending a puffed cloud of dust airborne at the sudden onslaught.

  “The Conte de Lecce has arrived?” Faustine demanded.

  “Oui, oui. Marco Lecce and his sons appeared early this afternoon. They requested supper in their chambers to rest after their long journey.”

  “Ah, very good, then. What have you for tomorrow planned?”

  “We shall begin with a luncheon picnic.” Unable to remain still, Thomasine rose, stalked the room with an impatience that gave credence to her fraying nerves.

  “This had better work, Faustine. So help me…”

  “Of course it will work,” she snapped. “And quit calling me that infernal name.”

  “I am deeply concerned for Cinderella. Did you see that monster’s reaction when I mentioned the Conte’s son? She is a dreadful woman. Keep your eye on her, Faustine. I mean it. She has nefarious plans for her stepdaughter, I can feel it.”

  Faustine glared at her sister. It was a rare occasion when the two sisters were at odds. And they were not at odds now. How could Thomasine doubt they were on the same side? It made it all the more frustrating. “Or you will what, may I ask?”

  “I…I will speak to…to…Chevalier Joseph Pinetti,” Thomasine stuttered.

  “You would not!” Faustine lifted her hand, waving her wand in a more than precarious manner.

  Thomasine halted; one hand planted on her hip, one finger perilously close her nose. “Do not attempt to threaten me, Faustine. We both know your lively theatrics will not work on me. Chevalier Pinetti saw to that, I wager.”

  Faustine plopped down in her self-begot padded chair, dropped her wand on the table. Thomasine was right, blast it. When Joseph had selected her for his Fairy Godmother experiment he’d also limited her powers for just such a tantrum.

  Her wand rolled to the edge of the table and clattered to the floor. “We are on the same side, dear sister. Pray, remember that,” she sighed.

  Faustine reached down to snatch up her wand and whisked herself away leaving, behind a room full of bursting brilliant sparkles that could have left one blinded, if one saw fit.

  Chapter 18

  “Where did all of these people come from?” Essie whispered.

  Essie only just beat Cinderella’s same question as she followed her down the stone steps where some twenty carriages were being loaded with young women in a rainbow of pastel hues attended by a myriad of gentlemen all dressed in their finest frock coats. She cast a glance toward Pricilla whose usual quick tongue gave the impression of being stuck to the top of her mouth. An unexpected mystification.

  Prince met them at the bottom of the steps, with an elegant bow. “Ladies, an excellent afternoon, non?” He looked so regal and noble, Cinderella wondered how she would ever make it through the day without spilling her secrets. A black ribbon held his dark hair in a fashionable queue, firm lips curved in a small smile. “May I present Signore Alessandro Lecce, Conte de Lecce’s eldest son. The family arrived from Torino just yesterday.”

  "Il piacere é tutti miniera. The pleasure is all mine.” The heels of his boots clicked smartly together coinciding with his gallant incline.

  Cinderella hadn't noticed him before he spoke. He was younger than Prince, though not by much she guessed. Signore Lecce had not bothered with a queue. Black silken hair loosed to touch his collar. The signore expressed all that was gracious and courtly. His lips touched Essie's hand. She clamped her eyes shut, head down, murmuring, “Sir,” sketching a curtsey. She looked embarrassed, Cinderella thought, confused.

  Pricilla gave him a wide smile with her deep curtsey.

  When he moved to Cinderella the heat flooded her cheeks. Would she never become accustomed to such attention? He was very dashing.

  "You are very lovely, Signorina," he said in a deep, resonant tone.

  Embarrassed, she tugged at her hand but the signore’s hold tightened. She coveted a glance beneath her lashes, certain no one had heard, but the frown Prince tossed to Signore Lecce had the flames in her face making her feel faint. Panic had her grasping for an escape, but none presented itself with any sort of grace. A tightening about Pricilla's mouth worried her but much of that might have been attributed to Prince placing Essie’s hand on his arm in that same instant.

  Mayhap Cinderella's fear showed in her expression. She turned and lifted her face to an unmistakable shift in an updraft of the wind, meeting Pricilla's eyes. What amounted to a profound camaraderie manifested in a twitch of Pricilla's lips.

  She was trapped. She had to no other option but to allow Signore Lecce's guide into the open carriage behind Pricilla then Essie. Relief filled her when Pricilla looped an arm through hers.

  Pricilla, her champion?

  *****

  Prince had no choice but to offer his arm to Erzsebet…Es.mer.al.da. The name just refused to take hold. He resisted the urge to slam his palm against his forehead. A curious constriction trapped his breath when Alessandro touched Cinderella's hand. No earthly explanation. What had his mother been thinking to invite the Conte de Lecco and his pompous son?

  He handed Elethia into the carriage, then turned to assist Pricilla. He did not seem to have trouble remembering Pricilla or Cinderella’s names. Prince scowled at Alessandro who released Cinderella's arm with surprised reluctance. One did not offend the future king. Even a visiting dignitary. Prince offered him a quick smile. He could afford to be gracious. Prince Charming was his name, after all.

  Prince handed Cinderella up into the carriage, the warmth seeping through her kid glove was like a soothing balm to his irritable senses. When he fell into her dark eyes he had the sensation everything would find it
s way to a finer day, just like the atmosphere’s shimmering particles ready to burst into sparks of luminosity. As if the world consisted of only the two of them.

  "…how will we all fit…" Edlynne’s voiced crashed though his consciousness. Her eyes blinked in series of expeditious flutters. Prince realized he still gripped Cinderella's fingers and snatched his hand away.

  Prince stepped back. "Alessandro and I shall accompany on horseback," he said gruffly. He glanced round at the small party. Relief assailed when no one appeared offended or otherwise off put by this careless actions. Mon Dieu, he wanted to grab her hand and never let go. He resisted an urge to tug his collar from his neck. He sketched a brief bow to Alessandro. "If that meets with your approval, Signore?” Prince knew Alessandro had no choice but to agree.

  Another quick glance round, Prince found he was not certain where his mother had arranged for the ensembles grand picnic to take place until the carriages rolled out in their single procession. Skirting the edges of the palace grounds they headed north. Sunlight streamed the path through large oaks and manicured bushes. Brightly colored flowers he couldn’t name lined the path.

  Alessandro did a fine job flattering their charges with his sultry foreign tongue and Prince did not discourage him. As long as they remained on horseback and the signore continued his monologue, nothing untoward could transpire. Clearly, desire had seized the young Italian when he’d bowed over Cinderella’s hand. It had Prince clenching a fist. Alas, his mother would not welcome violence against visitors in the least.

  The trail moved into fields of open rolling hills. Large striped tents appeared in the distance. The lake was shaded by clumps of tall trees. Very picturesque. The first of the guests were disembarking thirty minutes hence. Prince did not have much time to contemplate Alessandro’s engrossment of Cinderella without offending his sensibilities. Or worse, his mamán’s.

  He clamped his lips together and wondered at the sudden convenience of their visit.

  Chapter 19

  Fury roared through Hilda at the sight of the young Italian’s possessive hand on Cinderella's arm while Pricilla was relegated to Cinderella’s other arm. Why, the idea was preposterous that Cinderella could steal the Conte’s son beneath Pricilla's blinding beauty!

  Hilda whirled on her heel to charge the little heathen but flailed forward at the obstacles barring her way. Baskets, hundreds of them, blocked her path. How had she not noticed them before? A handy servant stopped her from landing on her face.

  "Unhand me," she snapped. He dropped her arm as if he held a raging furnace. Power surged through her in immense pleasure. Soon she would have hundreds of servants under her own dominion. An exhilarating thought of such an opportunity. She could afford to be gracious, and awarded the servant a small turn of her lips. "Where did these baskets appear from? They were not here a moment ago."

  "They are for the picnic, Madám."

  "Of course, they are for the picnic, you insolent fool. What are they doing obscuring my path?” Hilda peered around the impertinent man in time to see her daughters in an open carriage already set in motion. The prince and the Conte’s son alighted from their horses, preparing to follow.

  She narrowed her eyes at the scene. She seemed not to have had a single moment with her dear children in all the time they’d relocated to the castle. Something she intended to remedy very soon.

  “Hilda, dear? Is something amiss?”

  Hilda donned a gracious smile before turning to the queen.

  “Of course not, your majesty. I was hoping for an audience with my daughters before the outing. No matter, however. I shall speak with them later.” she smiled.

  “Come. You shall ride with me. Our carriage awaits.”

  Hilda had no choice but to follow.

  Chapter 20

  "Conte de Lecce's son, Alessandro, is quite attractive, is he not?" Essie murmured to Cinderella.

  Cinderella looked over her shoulder where Alessandro stood proudly attending to Pricilla amid a flock of underlings as they bent over some plant. Probably discussing the benefits of botany and the mystical advantages of medicinal value or some such nonsense. Of what, Cinderella could venture no notion. She turned back in time to see a slight tightening of Essie's jaw and narrowed eyes. Was Essie jealous? Of Conte de Lecco's son and…and Pricilla?

  Hope filled her with the thought. Her gaze strayed to Prince who hovered nearby charming the Lessors with a knowing smile. The same smile he'd bestowed on her throughout their ballroom waltz, now, so many weeks ago. It all seemed but a dream.

  She frowned. Mayhap he did not remember professing his admiration for her as their feet flew through the air hardly touching the floor, heads in the clouds. Mayhap it was just her head in the clouds.

  "What bothers you, Cinde?" Essie interrupted.

  She'd do best to suppress these silly musings. On the other hand…

  Cinderella studied her new friend's expression, realizing a more perfect opportunity would not present itself. The thought terrified her but…shouldn’t she embrace the courage?

  Oui, she determined. It was only honorable way. She straightened her spine, tugged Essie’s hand into her own. "Essie,” she started. “There is something I—"

  “Non. You must not worry so, Cinde. We shall keep you safe from mamá.” The words filled Cinderella’s heart but Essie’s preoccupation seeped through.

  “Please, we must talk,” Cinderella begged softly, but she was interrupted.

  "Cinderella, Essie," Pricilla called out from the path. Urgency colored her tone.

  The moment whisked away like dust in the wind. Especially, royal dust.

  "You go, Cinde. I'd like nothing more than to revel in the quiet for a moment."

  “But, Essie…”

  “Non.” Essie squeezed her hand. “Aller. Go.”

  Cinderella gave her a sad smile debating whether or not to give in to her fear of Essie's condemnation of her lies, or brave the courage to face them. Fear won and she pressed her lips against Essie’s hand before moving away to honor her wish.

  She was nothing but a coward she berated herself. What possible good could come from it anyway? Essie would marry Prince, and Pricilla would, no doubt, secure an advantageous liaison due to Essie's connections…and Cinderella? Would she end up lost in servantry of the bowels of the castle? For surely that is where Stepmamá would have her. She could only hope her duties did not include dumping chamber pots for the duration of her meager life. Was servantry even a word, she wondered?

  Talk about dramatics.

  Cinderella choked out a laugh and made her way down the path toward Pricilla. It was fraught with flowers of every imaginable hue, the fragrances heady and indistinguishable. She felt every pebble through her thin slippers. She tried, without success, to keep her gaze from Prince who leveled a penetrating focus on her. It sent her heart fluttering like Essie's eyes at the height of her most apprehensive. Her steps slowed to a complete halt. The depth of his blue eyes drew her in, to his honor, his soul, dimming the world around her.

  "Devil take it!" Pricilla hissed.

  Her shocking profanity startled Cinderella’s attention in time to avoid being run through at the last second. Cinderella spun, her widened gaze following Pricilla's fleeing form from the path they’d just descended. Stepmamá’s looking none too pleased, had shifted her aim for Essie.

  "Oh, no," she whispered, following Pricilla.

  Chapter 21

  "Good lord, in merciful heavens," Faustine let loose. "That woman will be the very death of all our carefully laid plans.” She waved her magic wand sending a crash of thunder bellowing over the meadow. Unfortunately, it did not deter Hilda’s hell bent pursuit of her daughters, nothing short of murder in her sights. The woman proved uncanny creating havoc between those girls. She must be stopped.

  Faustine hesitated to send up a blast of wind to follow the thunder. Rain was absolutely out of the question with all the hard work the servants had seen to in preparation of the
picnic. It would be a shame if that blasted woman succeeded in her efforts to ruin everything. She needed inspiration, and soon, noting Hilda’s robust body barreling down the path to Esmeralda's innocent form sitting prettily on the ground. The poor child hadn't the slightest idea of her mother’s immutable intentions.

  A slight diversion should suffice, but what? More so now than ever that she’d spotted Pricilla and Cinderella’s determined gait to head her off. Those particular fireworks would have every tongue in the kingdom wagging.

  "Ah, I see just the thing." Faustine smiled and flicked her wrist.

  "Signora? Qual è la vostra fretta—how do you say—why do you hurry so?"

  "Signore Lecce." Startled, Hilda had no choice but to stop.

  Faustine covered her mouth to keep her snicker under her breath lest they hear. The beastly woman would have a hard time snubbing him.

  “I…I would have words with my daughter…” her voice faded.

  “Perhaps you would care to take a turn about the lake, no?”

  Well, she could not turn down such an eloquent request, now could she? Faustine congratulated herself.

  "Thomasine had better appreciate this interference," she grumbled as she watched Conte de Lecce sketch a perfect bow. He grasped her meaty arm and led her down a convenient path to the water.

  Chapter 22

  Prince stifled his shock, then relief, at Conte de Lecce’s timely interruption. An intervention that could not have been more…ah, timely. His body, straight and perfect as a lance, faced inward toward his quarry, and effectively blocked her path. A small chuckle escaped.

  The Conte must be daft, unless he’d ascertained what Evigna’s mamá was about. Prince only wished he, himself, could decipher it. The only clear purpose he found was her over-exuberant feelings regarding his impending nuptials to her batty-eyed daughter.