Midnight Falls: A Thrilling Retelling of Cinderella (31 page)

Halsty was still, his eyes scathing Gabriel as only eyes could. For several seconds, neither man uttered a sound.

“You know, you speak quite liberally for a nobleman,” Halsty said, amused. “I’m impressed. But have you forgotten to whom you are speaking?”

Gabriel laughed out loud, even garnering the attention of those people closest in proximity. “I don’t forget anything, Sergeant,” he declared.

“Of course you don’t,” Halsty retorted.

“Do you intend on answering my question?”

“Remind me again what that question was; my memory is apparently not as good as yours.”

“What are you doing here?” Gabriel repeated.

Halsty did not reply. He simple grinned and Gabriel had his answer.

A distraction.

Gabriel resisted the impulse to take Halsty’s jacket collars in his fists, but, as getting arrested would make the climax of his well devised plan quite difficult, he opted only to step toward the sniveling dwarf, so their toes were touching, and glare into Halsty’s beady eyes.

“Where is Thurlow?” Gabriel asked, rigidly. Once again, Halsty did not respond. Gabriel felt his heartbeat pulsate and without thinking, he began scaling the crowd for the only person that Thurlow might be so compelled to meet with in private that he would send a decoy to keep her only living guardian distracted. Gabriel took Halsty’s jacket in his fists, though he struggled to do it as discreetly as possible. His demand of Halsty was spoken with the most menacing whisper Gabriel could concoct.

“Where is Ella?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thurlow did not startle Ella when he approached her; she saw him coming from across the floor. For a man that by his very reputation invoked fear, he appeared somewhat more distracted than usual. Ella considered fleeing to find refuge in the droves of people that were still flooding the castle, but she knew it would be to no avail. Thurlow walked and the seas parted; she would never be able to conceal herself. Ella inspected her besetment desperately. Where was Gabriel? She had not intended, at least consciously, to have her ‘uncle’ tend her the entire evening, but still….even Gabriel had to know that no preparation or clever tactics would ever hold Ella in one piece where Thurlow was concerned. He was, and always would be, her disabler. She’d accepted that fleeing or even compensating for her trepidation by inflicting the most acidic, foul verbal assault she could manage (which always seemed to provide Thurlow with even more pleasure) would do not good. Ella chose for herself a different strategy; one that she’d never tried.

“Why Captain Thurlow,” Ella side, melodiously, “fancy seeing you here this evening.”

Thurlow was still a short distance from her but he heard her greeting perfectly and slowed his step. Was it possible?

“Likewise,” Thurlow said as he stepped finally into her presence. “And I probably don’t need to tell you how marvelous you look tonight.”

Breathe,
Ella reminded herself. “It never hurts to tell a girl she is marvelous, Captain,” she declared, trying to cloak her nervousness in flirtatious banter, “and I accept any compliment, even if it has been reiterated countless times. That is, of course, if it is sincere.”

“Then accept this one as well: You are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen.”

“Thank you.”

Why did it feel so seedy when it came from his mouth? Words that were conceived to convey the poetic splendor of the world might as well have been swathed in grime when people like Thurlow spoke them. What a tragedy, Ella thought. Whenever he tried to woo her with sentiment, she became sick to her stomach.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked, relieved there was an insipid topic of conversation to which she could defer her nausea.

“Oh this?” he said, examining his right hand that was bandaged around the knuckles. “This is nothing, really. Just a cut from a broken vase that I helped a servant to clean.”

“How magnanimous of you.” Ella said, thoughtfully.

“Magnanimous?”

“Yes. You’ve always been so very generous to me Captain Thurlow and I have acted like an ungrateful snob to you in return. That was wrong of me. Forgive me.”

Breathe.

Thurlow did more than just listen to Ella when she spoke; he watched her. Vigilantly. It was not a chore for him to do so. He had become quite good at it. And he did not believe a single word she spoke. Who did she think she was fooling, Thurlow wondered, a grin spreading across his face as the notion occurred to him?

Ella still fears you; still wants to run from you. But now she is pretending to fancy you and there can be no other reason than that she wants to please her idiotic uncle.

Thurlow contemplated the ruse purposely in his mind. Why would Ella act in such a way just to please her uncle? Perhaps it is because she wanted to inherit the Duke of Ebersol’s fortunes or perhaps there was some incestuous depravity in their affection with one another. Only one thing really mattered to Thurlow: Ella was beginning to see the light. And she would soon be his, finally. The rest was immaterial. He did not need Ella to want him. Where was the fun in that? He could not have cared less for her uncle’s meaningless approval. The pieces were falling into place. Ella was finally realizing that her companionship to Thurlow was advantageous, prudent, and so very right. Anything more than that was extrinsic. Ella would become the best kind of pupil: so teachable. And the future would be as much an educator to her as Thurlow would (the future would simply not enjoy it as much).

“Ella,” Thurlow asked, staring into her eyes with creeping playfulness, “are you ready?”

Ella’s breath was sucked up into the air and she struggled not to drown in the wake of Thurlow’s cryptic dispensation. “Ready?” she asked, her voice trembling. “For what?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just answer the question.”

“I…I don’t…”

“Stop stuttering. Say you are ready, Ella. Say it!”

I am in over my head! God please help me! Gabriel, where are you?

Gabriel spotted Ella after only moments. He was quite frantic. How had he been so blind? By the time he weaved his way through every man and woman in the obscenely large hall, Thurlow had already advanced upon Ella. In his rapid travel, Gabriel saw her generate a soft smile across her face and he could scarcely believe it. Was she trying to be friendly with a man like Thurlow? Why would she do such a thing?

Then he knew. She was doing it for him. Despite Gabriel’s pronouncement that he would never commission Ella to pretend—even for a second—that she favored Thurlow, she was doing it anyway. Gabriel felt like screaming out for her to stop, to get away from Thurlow, that none of what she was trying to do was necessary. When he had little more than ten paces to go before he could opportunely interrupt their dialogue, Gabriel looked to his left and saw the one man, the only man, that could induce from him the same apprehension as Thurlow and he was stepping into Ella’s company. Prince Leopold. He had finally singled Ella out of the masses and was offering her his hand. Thurlow appeared strangely happy to oblige the interrupter. As Gabriel took his last step into the vacant space next to Thurlow where once Ella stood, he was seized upon by something far worse than envy of Leopold: gratitude. For it had been Leopold who rescued Ella in her hour of need. He’d beat Gabriel to the call. It was a fact that dug away at his gut.

All according to plan.

“Well, your lordship,” Thurlow said toward Gabriel, who was still watching the prince and Ella stroll tranquilly out of view, “it seems I owe you thanks for fulfilling your part of the bargain.”

Gabriel heard Thurlow’s gratuitous accolade and it filled cacophonously the stillness left in Leopold and Ella’s trail. What had become his two greatest antagonists were colliding as one. How was Gabriel supposed to play nicely with others when his entire world was constricting every intuition and all the wherewithal he’d ever possessed? Gabriel had never in his life played nicely with others. Thurlow, his mortal enemy, would be no exception. It was time for the real game to begin.

“You owe me nothing, Captain,” Gabriel confessed, turning his face toward Thurlow as he spoke, “as it appears the object of your affection just waltzed away with the most coveted, and apparently the most eligible, bachelor in the land. Are your romantic ambitions finally being put to rest?”

“Hardly,” Thurlow replied, “but I tend not to agonize over miscellaneous concerns. Ella is entertaining Leopold and it is no surprise to me. It is, after all, a party. Why should I fret over Ella’s dalliances with our most honorable prince? Who could blame her? Prince Leopold, if you will forgive my euphemism, is the
true
belle of tonight’s ball.”

Gabriel laughed vociferously. “Quite right,” he said, “though your opinion runs perilously close to willful mockery of the future supreme commander of Gwent. Are you so confident in your tenure, or in my discretion even, that you don’t worry I might use your loose tongue to my advantage? If my niece gains favor with Leopold, it might be prudent of me to build my own royal alliances; even if it means having to tear down…old bridges.”

Thurlow’s smile vanished. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you, your lordship. Are you threatening me?” he asked, his eyes drawn.

“I would never dream of it. I simply am giving an elaborate explanation. You see, I don’t really worry much about my past indiscretions catching up with me. You can flaunt every one of my sins for the world to see and I will simply stand by and applaud your good effort. In case I am still being too elaborate
,
I will say it plainly: you owe me nothing because, dear Captain, I did nothing. Ella was not showing you favor because I compelled her to. It was because she saw, only inches behind you, the ‘
true belle of the ball’
gearing up to hail her. Ella was all smiles simply to lure Leopold to her. She was enduring your company just so she could be in the right place at the right time. And it looks like her scheming paid off.” Gabriel inhaled loudly. Thurlow’s eyes had not deviated from Gabriel’s for the tiniest second.

“It appears to me,” Thurlow said, staid in posture and restraint, “that there is more to you than meets the eye, Peter of Ebersol. It should be fun to see how the rest of this evening plays out.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Gabriel said, his face almost beaming. He sauntered slowly from the captain’s presence. As he did, he let his enemy’s seething stare push him ever farther away until he’d ample freedom to bask in the moment: the moment of having taken just a taste of redemption. But a moment was all it would be. Gabriel’s churlish repartee with Thurlow had set him and Ella and everyone she loved at the precipice of mortal danger. For a brief jaunt in the garden of spoiled pride, Gabriel had shackled himself to the
new
understanding between him and Thurlow. Gabriel grew nervous and wondered whether he regretted his words with Thurlow. It was going to happen anyway, Gabriel figured, so why shouldn’t he be the one to cast the dice first? Still, something about his nerves that evening was compromised and he rationalized that there was one particular woman to blame.

Gabriel scanned the ballroom, looking yet again for Ella. This time, however, his adrenaline was not primed to liberate her. It was revving to steal her; steal her away from the very man he’d counted on to notice her from the beginning. It was only a matter of time and the plan. And he cursed.

Thurlow had just experienced two very eye-opening conversations. The first had left him tickled, lascivious, and reeling to forgo the monotonous banality of such a royal gala and get the evening’s real festivities underway. The second conversation had left him…

“What is it, Captain?” Halsty petitioned, stepping in front of his commander’s line of sight and sensing that Thurlow’s attention was teetering somewhere between fierce concentration and some kind impassioned, eruptive rage.

“I just had a very interesting conversation with Ella’s esteemed Uncle Peter,” Thurlow stated, his words shedding little light on his concealed, innermost retrospection. “It seems the man is not at all what I thought he was. He was goading me like he wanted a knife through his heart right here in this very ballroom.”