Just Like Magic (13 page)

“I was speaking of the prince,” said Lucy shortly, holding out her cup. “More tea, Ella.”

“Tea for me, too,” said Gerta, reaching for a cup. “And do you have any more of those muffins? I thought the prince was wonderful, but he seemed—I don’t know—a bit absent-minded. Can you imagine, when we danced he called me Bertha twice! He danced with everyone, though. I wish he could have danced with me all night.”

“So do I,” I said without thinking. Gerta and Lucy stared at me. My heart jumped, and I blushed deeply and stammered, “W-well, wouldn’t anyone? Does he go to many balls?”

“Why would you care?” snapped Lucy, looking at me with narrowed eyes.

I stared off into a corner and hoped my cheeks were cooling.

“I wonder who he’ll marry,” said Gerta, dreamily spreading jam on a day-old muffin. We sat silent for a minute.

“I’m back, miss. Lottie did have some news—” Henry popped his head in the doorway, then broke off when he caught sight of my stepsisters.

“Really, Ella, why you encourage this gossiping with the servants I cannot imagine!” said Lucy, looking down her nose at Henry.

“Why not? According to you I
am
a servant!” I said.

“I may be a servant, milady,” said Henry, raising his chin, “But that don’t mean I don’t know things! I have it on good authority that the king has been asking a very important question this morning!”

“If Ella is a servant?” said Gerta, fogged. “Why would he care?”

“Oh, spare me,” said Lucy.

“Who will the prince marry? And when? That’s what the king wants to know, and he’s planning on doing something about it, too.”

“That’s
whom
. And how on earth would you know?” said Lucy spitefully.

Henry glared. “There’s ways of knowing, milady.”

“But what is the king planning on doing?” I asked in spite of myself. My heart was beating faster.

“Sending him away, that’s what I hear. To visit other countries, meet princesses, maybe bring home a bride. Unless he makes his choice here soon.”

“Oh, nonsense. Idle stories!” Lucy stood up and shook out her skirt.

“Ask anyone at the palace, miss!”

“Well, I certainly might!” said Lucy as she headed for the stairs. “I’ll have you know that Gerta and I were specially invited to the palace this afternoon by Her Royal Highness. She would know if any such thing were to happen!”

Henry made a “Well, la-di-dah” sort of face but kept his mouth shut as Lucy flounced upstairs, shortly followed by Gerta, who snatched two more muffins as she left.

“Did Lottie tell you all that, Henry?” I asked, grabbing him by the sleeve before he could leave the room again.

“Yes, miss.” Henry picked up a muffin and took a big bite.

“So you did see her at dinner?”

“Yes, miss.” He spoke indistinctly through the mouthful. “Seems the king had a big brangle with the prince this morning and was hollering about sending him away.”

“Hollering?”

“Sure, miss. Elsewise how could the footman have heard?”

“Well, what else did the footman say?”

“Said he don’t want to go, miss, and—”

“The prince? Really?”

“That’s what he said.” Henry pocketed another muffin and added, “These’re almost as good as my mum’s or my sister’s, miss!”

“Why, thank you. Now stop eating them!”

“Just getting my share, miss, before the duke’s daughters hog ’em all.”

“Oh, go back to the garden!” I shoved him out the door.

The rest of the day dragged on. I took Stepmama her breakfast at one-thirty and listened to her talk about the ball, about watching her dear daughters sparkle and hoping something might come of it, about chatting with former acquaintances and getting tired feet. Then I went back to the kitchen and washed dishes and swept. I finished the bread and made some more muffins and washed out the dishtowels.

But I kept returning to the back door, tapping my fingers impatiently on the doorjamb as I gazed toward the palace and felt the sharp breeze on my cheeks.

Around three o’clock, there was a knock on the front door upstairs. I pulled it open to see a messenger from the palace, and my heart jumped inside me, but all he had was a note for my sisters. From Princess Seraphine, I supposed. Lucy and Gerta read it in the sitting room, then donned their cloaks quickly to take the royal carriage back to the palace.

As I opened the door for them to leave, I heard Gerta whisper excitedly, “Whose slipper, do you suppose?”

My heart nearly stopped. “What?” I gasped. But they were down the steps by then, and Lucy merely turned around with a dangerous look and hustled Gerta into the carriage.

I stood on the steps in a daze. Slipper! Why was Seraphine sending a note about a slipper? And whose slipper? Was it—was it mine? No, how could it be? But, but I remembered so clearly seeing a man holding something in his hand as he searched the drive. Could it have been the prince with my slipper? Had he been searching for me?

With difficulty, I turned and went back down to the kitchen. Archibald barked a greeting, and I patted him mindlessly and headed for the back door.

“Henry!”

“Miss?” Henry stopped prying a rock out of the potato bed and stood up.

“You were saying what Lottie had heard about the prince?”

“Yes, miss?”

“This is important! Has anyone said anything about a slipper that was lost or found last night?”

Henry’s brown eyes opened wide. “Well, blow me down, miss! Lottie only got that from the head footman because his cousin is engaged to the second cook, who’s taken Lottie under her wing, as you might say—”

“Henry, please! What about the slipper?”

“One got lost last night, you’re right, miss,” said Henry, nodding his head. “Lost by a lady the prince danced with, and him charging through the halls trying to find her, but she vanished into thin air, they say, and only left the slipper.”

“And?” I could hardly speak.

“And? And isn’t the prince trying to find out who she was? And the king wanting to send him away and all, to find a princess.”

My heart was pounding. “He w-was trying to find her? You’re quite sure?” I stammered.

“Sure? It’s straight from the head footman, miss!”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“In front of Their Hoity-Toitynesses? I don’t need to tell them everything, miss! And then you shoved me back into the garden.”

“Henry!”

“What, miss? I’ll get back to work now, sure!”

“No, no—I—Henry—” I was interrupted by several sharp barks from the kitchen. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, what’s that? Archibald, hush!”

The barking continued. “You ridiculous dog!” I said, swinging open the kitchen door. Archibald was barking up the stairs, and I thought I saw a flash of Lucy’s green skirt at the top of the flight; a moment later, I was sure I heard the front door shut and the wheels of a carriage moving away down the street. “Now hush!” I said, gripping his collar. “It was just a rat. A big rat. But why did she come back here?”

Archibald turned and tried to push his way out the back door. “So you want a walk, do you? That might be a good idea. I don’t think my dress and slipper are safe here anymore. I’ll—I’ll take them to Mrs. Wilkins
,
she can store them.”

I reached for Archibald’s leash and clipped it on his collar, then slipped the leash around the doorknob. “Just a minute, while I find my dress and wrap it up.”

Stepping around a very impatient Archibald, I unclasped the trunk and lifted the lid. My dress was still there, as beautiful as ever. I knelt down and swiftly lifted it out, then reached back in for my slipper.

But my fingers found nothing. “Archibald!” I cried. “It’s gone!”

12

Who’s Got the Slipper?

“It's not here!” I shrieked.

“What?” Henry appeared at the doorway. “What’s wrong, miss?”

“The slipper!” I frantically scrabbled through the trunk. “I put it here this morning; it was just below the dress. And now it’s gone! And—” I sat back on my heels and clenched my fists. “I know who took it!”

“What? Who?”

“Lucy! She came back down here!” I stood and started for the stairs.

“Miss? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out!” My heart pounding, I mounted the stairs and burst into the sitting room. Stepmama sat dozing in a chair, her feet up and Mon Petit on her lap.

“Stepmama!”

“Hmmmph!?” Stepmama snorted, violently jerking awake. “What is it? Ella! What? What—”

“Stepmama, was Lucy just here? Do you know where she went?”

“What?”

I knelt by her side. “Did Lucy come back just now, Stepmama? I wouldn’t wake you, but it’s important, it’s so important—”

“Lucy? Lucy? I—I’m not sure. She went off to the palace, didn’t she? With Gerta? I’ve been resting—”

“Then you didn’t hear her just a minute ago? I thought I saw her dress, perhaps she came back.”

“No, I don’t remember that.” She wrinkled her forehead plaintively, then caught me by the sleeve as I started to rise. “Wait, wait, it does seem to me—now I remember—”

“Yes?”

“I did hear the door, just a minute ago, just as I was dozing off, didn’t I, Precious?” She held up Mon Petit and waggled her face in his. “I don’t think we’ll ever get our nap today, will we, little Sweetums? And I couldn’t say if it was Lucy—”

But I was out the sitting room door, and I heard her moaning, “Ella? Where are you going? What is the matter?”

“To the palace!” I answered, throwing on my cloak and clattering back down the stairs to the kitchen. “Come on!” I said to Henry and towed him by his sleeve out the back door.

“Miss! What’s going on?” demanded Henry as I rushed him through the alley and out to the street.

I slowed at the end of Queen’s Way and turned to him. “You’re getting me into the palace, that’s what! Lucy stole my slipper, and she’s going to try to fool the prince—I won’t have her pretending—that’s
my
slipper, and I won’t have Lucy—”

“Miss! Slow down! How do you expect me to get you into the palace? Walk in the front door and say ‘Hello, King!’?”

“Of course not! You must know ten thousand back ways!”

“Well…not really, miss! They do keep the palace pretty tight.”

“Can’t you get in to see Lottie?”

“Maybe—if Sergeant Gibbs is on duty.”

“Sergeant Gibbs? Who is Sergeant Gibbs?”

“He and Lottie is all spoony for each other.”

“Henry, that’s wonderful, that’s very sweet, but you’ve got to get me in!” We were striding past the cathedral now, and the palace loomed at the end of the street.

“But why, miss?”

“Because—because—I’m the lady the prince danced with last night! It was my slipper that got lost! And now Lucy has stolen the other one!”

Henry stopped dead, and Archibald barked. Archibald? There he sat at the end of the leash, happily scratching at a flea. “Henry! Why on earth did you bring him along?”

“But you was taking him for a walk, miss! Thought that’s what we were doing! And what do you mean, you was at the ball? You wasn’t going!”

“Well, I did! Mrs. Wilkins made me a dress, and got me a coach, and—Henry, we’ve got to hurry!”

Henry started jogging again. “Well, I’ll be. So you’re the mystery princess, miss?”

“Don’t look so surprised! And I’m not a princess, and the prince knows it.”

“You ain’t very mysterious, either, is what I say.”

“Henry!”

“But miss, if I get you in, what are you going to do?”

“I—” And I stopped cold. What was I going to do? Find Lucy and Gerta, I supposed. But they were with the princess. Perhaps I could send them a message? But would they listen? “I don’t know, Henry. But I have to get in there, and I have to try something!”

He and I stared at each other for a few moments. Then Henry shook his head and whistled. “I’ll do my best, miss. After you’re in—well, maybe Lottie can do something. We’ll see.”

“Thank you, Henry. I won’t forget this.”

“Me neither, miss, not by a long shot!”

We were in luck. Sergeant Gibbs (tall, with a mustache and a musket) was on duty at the ornate wrought iron gate behind the palace. After a few words with Henry, he let us in with a wink. Henry then knocked on a back door and asked for Lottie, and we found ourselves ushered into a large pantry.

“Wait here, miss,” Henry said and slipped off toward the noise of clanking pans and knives on chopping blocks. He soon returned, towing Lottie, who was wiping her hands on a voluminous white apron and looking startled. “So you want to find your sisters, miss? I’m not sure that it’s my place—do let go, Henry!”