Cinderella (Faerie Tale Collection) (13 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

HANSEN SWUNG THE DOOR wide and stepped into the small storeroom. Ella was quick to follow. The light from the stable windows allowed her to watch him remove an old crate of some kind to reveal a very pretty gold and mahogany box about the size of a loaf of bread, with scrolls and etchings all over it. Her father’s box! She had forgotten it existed until that moment.

“This is for you, Miss,” Hansen said as he pulled it out. “I would wait until all is clear before you take it up to the house. Unless you would prefer to open it out here, then I will be happy and remain until you bring down the key.”

She gasped. “The key! Yes, it belongs to my father’s box.”

“Aye. I had one of the footmen hide it in your closet years ago, to keep it safe.”

“How did you come by this?”

“As I said, your father gave the box to me shortly before his death and said it was for you—and no one else. He was very adamant that no one knew about it. He asked me to hide it up tight in a place her ladyship would never think to look. And so I did, out here in the back of the stables. And it has remained here waiting for you ever since.”

“Oh, Hansen, thank you!” She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him. “I shall bring the key back here. Wait for me.”

It only took a few minutes to find her way back to the stables. By the time she came, Hansen had cleared out a good section of the ground near the haystacks and was waiting for her there. It was quiet, with only one or two of the stable boys doing their chores, but they did not pay any attention to her.

She sat upon the ground near a large bundle of hay and pulled out her key from within the apron pocket.

Hansen placed the box down gently for her and then tipped his hat. “I will be waiting over by the door to see no one disturbs you.”

She smiled. “Thank you.” It took no time at all to place the intricate key into the lock and turn it. The pretty box swung easily open and inside there were several folded pieces of paper. She pulled out each one individually and examined them.

Most of them were the deeds to the house, the land, the cattle, all of those important documents that one would need to show proof of. On each and every one he had her name Eleanoria Rose Woodston placed upon.

She really did own all of the manor. There were also estimated values of each property, and its sums reached more than Ella would have ever imagined. She shook her head slightly and wiped away a few misplaced tears. He had remembered her.

He loved her—until the very end. Despite what she had been told, he loved her.

She found a note from him, explaining all—

Ella,

As you can see, if you are reading this, then I have passed on and you are at a time in your life when you should be well aware that all of this is truly yours. I love you, my daughter. I worry how you will be treated if I am to leave this earth before you have grown. Your stepmother means well, but she is vain and selfish at times. I am afraid for you, and so I have done the only thing I could think of to ensure she treated you well. I have left it all for you. Everything. So that you may share and give out, as is your nature to do so, to those I have left in your charge. Do take care of your stepmother and stepsisters, they will need much looking after once I am gone. I love you, my little Ella. I love you. Never stop riding—for it is an exceptional gift from above.

Now, my dear, within this box you shall find the deeds and property assessments of all the land and buildings, et cetera, that you now own. There is also another letter here explaining your mother’s stipend to be given to you on your wedding day. It is the monies given to her by her grandmother and meant to be passed onto you. The accounting and all the necessary paperwork will be included in this box as well. You do own a large inheritance from both of your parents, but what is your mother’s most definitely far exceeds mine. Your stepmother has no idea of its existence; I never mentioned you were wealthy in your own right. You do not need to share that fact with anyone if you do not wish it.

Also, my dear, there will be tucked inside some love letters between your mother and I, back in our courting days. You may enjoy browsing those as well. I have included your mother’s ring as well as some other costly jewelry, you are welcome to do with it as you see fit.

I love you, my daughter. I love you. Never doubt this for it is true.

Take care. Be kind. Be good. Be strong.

Until we meet again—

Love,

Papa

Ella slowly placed the letter down and pushed the box away for a moment. Her grief sharp all over again. Wiping at her tears, she pressed her lips together. What was she to do with such information? What did it really change within her? It did not bring her father or mother back—it just confirmed his suspicions that his new wife would treat her wrong. It was a gift given by a loving, caring father, but what did it matter if she had all the gold in the land? She would never be loved by those whom she had tried so very hard to prove her worth to. If she came out with this box and letters and waved it about, it would change nothing—only they would hate her more.

She brought her knees up to her chin and stared at the stark walls of the stable. The gentle nays and snorts from the horses brought her back to the world she was currently in. It would seem everything was hers now. Anything she could grasp and clutch and draw toward her was now at her fingertips. The love of a king, her father’s wealth, her mother’s wealth, her home, her lands, it was all there waiting for her to decide to take it up.

But could she?

She wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled them tighter toward her.

Could she handle the pressures of becoming a queen? Could she bear the burdens of being a wealthy landowner and taking care of many people under her charge? She had lived on so very little for so long, the thought of unimagined wealth startled her. In many ways she wished she could go back to being the little girl she once was and hide away. Ride Sunshine for hours instead of facing reality.

What was she to do with her stepmother and stepsisters now? She needed to make several decisions, but did not feel up to the challenge to even tackle one of them. If she threw them out of the home, then what? Then she was no less cruel than they were—actually, she was worse. But how long could she continuously serve those who mocked her and treated her with such callousness, now that she knew the truth?

She would shatter.

Her sharp tongue was too quick at times and there would be no turning back if that was to happen. She would most likely say things she would regret for the rest of her life. Her nature was not to be cold and selfish; however, she knew she would need to come to grips with her own self-worth before she could dare to become an example for anyone else.

Ella Woodston would have to fight. She would have to stand up and take back what was rightfully hers and claim her lands and title once more. But she could not think of such things at the moment. She simply could not.

Too much, too soon, too fast.

She needed counsel; she need advice.

She needed John—er, Anthony.

Yes.

Sitting up more fully, she called out to Hansen. When he came, she asked, “Could you send something for me?”

“Anything, Miss.”

“I would like to write a missive to the prince, something short—but I would like to do so secretly. Can you see that he receives it?”

“Yes. I will have one of the older stable boys run it up to the castle at once. Let me fetch you ink and the rest.”

“Thank you.” As he left, she placed her father’s papers neatly within the box and shut the lid and locked it up tight. Dusting herself off, she made her way to the old storeroom and tucked it back underneath the crate. There it would stay until she was ready for it.

With a deep breath, she closed the storeroom door and began to sort her thoughts for the note she would write Anthony. By the time Hansen had rushed back with the writing tools, she was ready. Deciding simplest would be best, she merely wrote—

A—

I need you. Please come as soon as possible.

I will be waiting.

E

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BY THE TIME ANTHONY had received the missive it was clearly too late to leave the castle—or his mother. He had been holed up in meetings all day with the other advisers of the kingdom, playing a constant battle of cat and mouse, where he learned the rules and regulations and consequences of running it all. He was weary, exhausted, and felt as though his brain may have completely dissolved sometime over the last few days.

He needed his Ella as much as she needed him.

Smiling, he walked into the library to his father’s desk and quickly penned a reply, sending it off with a footman nearby. “See that one of the servants of the Dashlund home receives this and that it is meant for E. Woodston.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

As he watched the servant go, he collapsed onto the settee—the smile still lingering as he thought of her. It was good she turned to him. He was going to take it as a sign that she was coming to her senses and truly beginning to see how much she loved him.

His smile slipped. What if something had happened?

What if her stepmother had done something? What if she were in danger?

Oh, great heavens.

He stood up and paced the library for several moments. This would not do. He must settle his mind and think rationally. Ella was fine. She was fine. She must be fine.

Clearly sleep was out of the question when such a note had been sent.

Groaning, he looked out into the night sky. It was way too late for a visit.

“What are you moaning about?” asked his mother as she entered the room.

“Nothing. Ella.”

“Ella Woodston?” She grinned.

“Yes.” He sighed. “She sent a note earlier, but I did not receive it until now.”

“And?”

“That is all.”

“And what did it say, dear?”

He collapsed back onto the sofa. “That she needed me and would be waiting for me.”

“So, she knows who you are now? The letter clearly made it into your hands.”

“Yes, I told her the day father died.”

“The day you mentioned she did not know if she loved you?”

“The very same.”

“Ahh.” She sat down on the high backed chair next to him. “So, this is in essence the first you have heard from her? And she needs you?”

“Yes.”

“And what will you do?”

“Sit here and mope and moan and pray she is well—and probably not sleep until I hold her in my arms again and—” He suddenly stood up. “You know, frankly, I am not sure what it is I am still doing here. The moon can be hanged! She needs me. I must go now.”

His mother smiled. “I was wondering myself why you were still here.”

He placed a quick kiss upon her cheek. “Thank you. I will be home later this evening.”

“If you know what is good for you, you most definitely will,” she answered, chuckling.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Son. Now, hurry and go win
her
heart as well!”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He bowed and then called out the door as he left, “Get a stable boy to saddle my horse at once.”

“I want to know every detail!” Her echo reached him as he started to head down the grand staircase. Shaking his head, Anthony grinned and chuckled. What would he ever do without his mother?

***

E—

Forgive this late reply. I have only now just received your note.

I hope to meet with you tomorrow or the following day at the latest.

I miss you.

A

Ella had just allowed the eagerness and anticipation to flow through her at the prince’s reply when there was a knock at her bedroom door a second time that evening. She quickly folded the missive and tucked it under her pillow.

“Miss,” one of the kitchen maids whispered as Ella answered the door, “sorry to bother you again, but there is someone awaiting you outside in the orchards.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He says he knows it is late, but wishes to speak with you nonetheless. Should I send someone to shoo him away?”

“Is he tall?”

“Yes, Miss. And very handsome, too.”

Ella grinned. “No, I will go down myself shortly,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

By the time Ella had changed from her nightgown into a dress and made her way downstairs and to the orchard, it had already been a few minutes. She was not wholly foolish and did think to bring a large meat cleaver from the kitchen, just in case it was not Anthony waiting for her as she assumed.

Her faint worries were for not.

“Ella!” he exclaimed as he rushed up to her, spinning her around in a big hug. “Are you well? Tell me that you are well. I have been frantic these past forty minutes or so thinking the worst.”

“Good grief, Anthony! You must put me down at once, or I may chop off your head—clearly by accident, of course.”

“What?” He laughed and set her down, his eyes taking in the large knife. “My word! You were not jesting.”

“It took every bit of control I had not to cut you with it as you were flinging me about.” She chuckled, as she tossed in on the ground several feet away.

“Well, that will teach me not to come meet with you late at night.”

“I had to be certain it was you, did I not?”

“Most definitely.” He grinned, his eyes roaming over every feature of hers in the moonlight. “I have missed you terribly.”

“How are you?”

“I am well, now that I am here.” He folded her back into his arms, much more gently this time, and kissed her. “It has been too long.”

“Yes, it has,” she murmured as she laid her head against his chest.

“Let us not wait this long before meeting again.”

“No.”

He trailed his hands up and down her spine, sending warmth dancing and pinging about all over her. “Now, tell me. All is well here, yes? You are not in danger?”