Blindly, I pick up a paperweight and hurl it at his head. Tremaine ducks. The missile flies past him and smashes into the bookshelf, sending loose papers and worn old tomes tumbling to the ground.
“What was that, Daddy?” Stacia’s girlish voice floats from the doorway. Her eyes widen. I rush past her to make my escape, all but pushing her into the hallway. She gasps petulantly, but I’m too eager to get away to care about offending her. Their conversation chases me as I run.
“Your sister and I were having a little talk, that’s all.”
“She isn’t coming to the ball is she?” Stacia pouts.
“No, dear. That little slut will be staying right here at home, where she belongs. Out of sight and out of mind.”
His low chuckle burns my scant pride to ash.
* * *
As soon asI’m certain they’re not coming back, I ransack Tremaine’s bedroom. I’m in here to clean every few days, so I know all his hiding spots. It doesn’t take me long to find the invitation. It’s crumpled at the back of his sock drawer. Did he really think I wouldn’t find it here? I’m the one who puts away his clothes.
“Aha!” I seize it and hold it high. In the grand mirror, my triumphant smile falters. “Do I really look this bad?” I ask my own reflection. My hair is in a messy braid beneath a rag tied around my head to keep it relatively free of dust. There is always so much dust in this old house, and I am the only one who does anything about it.
Then, something else catches my eye. It’s another envelope, this one sealed with a blob of wax and my mother’s emblem. I tip my head and inspect it. My name is carefully written on the back in elegant cursive.
I take both envelopes upstairs to my room, where I break the old wax seal and hold it to the light to decipher the faded ink.
Dearest Elinor,
Your father and I love you so very much. I hope I am there to witness your wedding day. In the unhappy event that I rest with your father in the afterlife, I beg you to keep us in your heart on this special day. We both wish you many years of joy and love with a man worthy of your beautiful heart.
-Lady Scinder
Tears burn my eyes.
She loved me. She knew, deep down, that there was a chance she might not survive the birth. Looking back at events through the eyes of an adult, I know she was brokenhearted by Tremaine’s cruelty and regretted marrying him. I was only a girl, but I remember the sadness in her eyes.
I must get to that ball. I must make this night matter. I have to make myself look like I belong in that castle ballroom—because I do.
I’m busy slathering myself with various creams and lotions when I spot the carriage coming up the road.
“Drat,” I curse, scrambling into my rags.
“Elinor. See to the horses.” Tremaine barely glances at me as he stomps in.
“I can attend to my sisters or to the horses, but not both,” I inform him.
The cold glare he levels at me makes me tremble in my slippers, but I lift my chin and hold my ground. Tremaine narrows his eyes at me.
“Daddy, I need a bath,” Cilla whines. “Can’t you put away the horses just this once?”
Saved by my stepsister. He relents, slamming out into the yard to unhitch the horses. I exhale.
“Why does it smell like my rosemary mint cream?” Stacia sniffs.
“I knew you’d want to get ready, so I brought everything down ahead of time.” The lie slips out easily. Fortunately, Stacia has never had a thought in her life, and she accepts it as truth.
For the next hour, I’m pulled between the two women, fetching towels and setting their hair, laying out their new gowns, which are, I’m sorry to admit, much nicer than the one I came up with. Still, mine was made by my own hand. Surely there is a man out there who would appreciate my hard work.
The man on the horse, for example. In my mind, he has grown into a larger-than-life figure, like the Sleeping Beauty. He is my dark knight, who will see my plight and whisk me away to a better life full of love and laughter.
I know it’s a fantasy. But what is the harm if a crumb of hope helps me endure?
At last, I lace up Cilla’s gown.
