Just Like Magic (15 page)

“Yes, Father.” And everyone sat still and stared as Lucy perched stiffly on the chair while Prince Gregory knelt down, removed her shoe, and tried to fit on the slipper. It was hopeless, however. Lucy’s foot was two inches too long, but she reached down herself to help tug on it, her face growing redder as she pulled.

“It does not appear to me that the slipper could be yours, dear,” said the queen.

Lucy looked up, her face scarlet, and muttered, “I thought—Perhaps it shrank—” Then she stood up and whisked herself away behind Seraphine, who turned and gave her a pained look.

“Now you, Lady Gertrude,” said the queen, pointing at the chair.

Gerta sat down with a triumphant smile and a flounce. She knew her feet were much smaller than Lucy’s. She held out her foot, toe pointed, and Prince Gregory tried again. With no more success. Gerta’s foot was short, but too wide. Gerta looked down, annoyed, and she too reached down to pull at the shoe but finally had to stand up, face petulant, and retreat to the doorway.

“And now—Miss Ella, I believe?” The queen waved me to the chair.

I sat and pulled off my shoe, and the prince knelt in front of me. I couldn’t look at him; my cheeks were burning, and I gripped the edge of the chair to keep my hands from shaking.

Prince Gregory calmly took my foot in his hand and slipped on the slipper. Then I dared to glance at him, and he was looking up at me. I couldn’t look away. I hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the light before, and my eyes searched his face. His eyes were warm, and—

The king coughed. “So the slipper fits you, Miss…? What is your full name, young woman?”

“Ella—Ella Simone Merton.” I looked up, my heart pounding.

Gregory’s hand reached out and clasped mine. “Actually, the slipper doesn’t fit well. It’s too large.”

“That’s why I lost it!” I whispered.

Meanwhile, my stepsisters were fussing. “But it can’t be hers!” wailed Gerta, and Lucy hissed, “She wasn’t even at the ball!”

“Yes, she was,” said Mrs. Wilkins, chin up. “I dressed her and sent her myself!” But she was then drowned out by more barking, this time a tiny ferocious yap. We all stared as a disapproving footman let Stepmama into the room, followed by Mon Petit.

The uproar that greeted their entrance was tremendous. “Mama, do you know what—”, “Mama, you won’t believe—” and “Is everything all right?” not to mention several barks and a deep “And who is
this
I have the pleasure of entertaining?” from the king, which finally settled things down.

“My dear, you know Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Derham, I believe?” The queen waved a hand in Stepmama’s direction.

Stepmama curtsied, wobbling a bit. “I—really, Your Majesties, this is an honor—”

“And what is your relationship to this scene of madness, Your Grace?” The king leaned forward, then barked, “Sit, sir!” at Archibald, who was growling at Mon Petit from behind his boots. Archibald promptly sat.

“Why, these are my girls!” Stepmama looked around anxiously. “Ella left so quickly, and I thought perhaps something was wrong with Lucy—and I couldn’t sleep. Though if I had known that dear Mrs. Wilkins was here, I wouldn’t have worried—”

“Mrs. Wilkins!” Lucy practically spat. “What help would a common dressmaker be?”

“Lucy, dear! She’s Ella’s godmother, and—”

“Ella’s godmother! Yes, and Ella’s mother was a cook, and her father was a merchant!”

The king raised an eyebrow.

“Lucy!” Stepmama remonstrated tearfully. “You are speaking of my dear late husband—and your stepfather!”

“And the best-hearted
and
wealthiest man in Little Owlthorpe!” snapped Mrs. Wilkins, folding her arms and staring Lucy down as Henry cried, “Hear, hear!”

“Wealthiest only until he lost it all!” sneered Lucy.

“Ah, yes, that would have been not long after he married into your family,” Mrs. Wilkins parried.

“Are you implying—” Lucy began furiously.

A hand on my arm distracted me from the brawl. I turned to see Prince Gregory beside me. “I knew I would find you,” he said quietly. “But I’m glad it was now rather than later.”

“I couldn’t let them try to trick you with the slipper—” I babbled.

“So your name is Ella? I like that.”

“Thank you!” I floundered on. “I rather like Gregory, too.”

“Just the name?” He paused, then glanced back at his parents. “You see, Father has been trying to persuade me to take a long trip with the object of meeting lots of eligible princesses. But if I can tell him there’s no need…”

“I—you know I’m not a princess!”

“I think we could get around that. What I’m trying to say is—Ella, will you marry me?”

“Marry—” I gulped, and looked into his eyes. “Your Highness, you hardly know me!”

“I know enough.” His hand tightened. “Sometimes it doesn’t take long. For me, it was only one dance.”

“It was the same for me,” I whispered.

“Then will you marry me?” His face was serious; perhaps he was holding his breath. I know I was.

“Yes.” I released my breath and smiled up at him brilliantly.

“Your Majesty, she’s almost a servant! She does the cooking!” Gerta practically shouted.

“Your
sister
is a
servant
?” The queen spoke with one brow slightly arched. Gerta blanched.

“That’s ridiculous! Ella went to school with me! We were neighbors!” said Anna.

“She’s not a servant, dear!” Stepmama quivered in agitation. “We’ve all been helping out around the house since—since our financial reverses—you do a bit of dusting, and I was just walking Mon Petit—”

“Mama!” Lucy’s face was again bright red. At that point, Mrs. Wilkins whispered something to Gregory, then tapped me on the shoulder. “Come with me, dear!” She guided me across the hall into the vacant Lavender Salon. “Here!” she said, presenting me with the parcel she was holding.

“What? Now?” I took it and started unwrapping, then gasped. It was another dress, not a ball dress, but a morning dress, for visiting.

“Put it on, and I’ll do your hair. I’ve had such fun making your dresses!” Mrs. Wilkins bustled about, helping me into the new dress, brushing out my hair, and pinning it up.

“Godmother, I—I don’t know what to say!”

“Heavens! You don’t need to say anything. It’s lucky I brought this with me today—I was going to come see you after I fitted Anna for some of her trousseau, then Henry arrived, and here I am!”

“You mean you were at the Camerons?”

“Yes. Apparently Henry remembered that you knew Anna, and of course James is known at court, since he’s Prince Gregory’s secretary. Henry felt you might need a little…support.” She turned me around critically, then embraced me and kissed me on the cheek. “Now you’d better get back to the library before they tear your reputation to shreds!”

“Haven’t they already?” I was in a daze as Godmother propelled me back across the hall. As we slipped back through the library door, no one noticed us.

“Ella is a nobody, and she shouldn’t have been at the ball! Mama had agreed!” Lucy was fuming.

“But that was only because of the dresses,” Stepmama bleated.

“Was she not invited?” Queen Jane asked Lucy.

“Well, yes, she was invited, but—”

“Then I see nothing improper in her being there,” Queen Jane said decisively. “And as for her parentage, if her father was good enough for your mother to marry, I do not see that it is for you to criticize. Or am I wrong?” She turned to the king. Henry took the opportunity to stick out his tongue at Lucy, who glared back.

“You may be right, but I’m still unsure of what this nonsense is about!” said the king, frowning.

Prince Gregory cleared his throat. “It is about my future wife,” he said, moving next to me and taking my hand. “Father, this is Miss Ella Merton, and she has just done me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage.”

There was dead silence. My stepsisters froze in mid-sneer. I curtsied, heart pounding, as the king strode over and gazed at me thoughtfully. “So you’re Her Grace’s stepdaughter,” he remarked.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

He turned and looked around at the others in the room, at Queen Jane, who nodded slightly, and back at Gregory, who was standing beside me, tall and determined. Then he spoke. “I believe all I can say is—welcome to the family, Miss Merton.”

And as I struggled to stay on my feet as relief swept over me, the queen bustled over and kissed me on the cheek, and Stepmama tearfully congratulated me. Then Mrs. Wilkins hugged me, and Anna kissed
and
hugged me and whispered “I’m so glad, Ella!” James shook hands with Prince Gregory, and Stepmama starting talking to Queen Jane, and Henry tried to drag Archibald away from Mon Petit, who was barking at him madly from the safety of Stepmama’s arms. Even Seraphine came over and gave me a dubious hand, and after that, Lucy and Gerta, who had been frozen in their places, approached.

“Congratulations, Ella,” said Lucy, extending a cold fingertip.

“Hope you’ll be very happy,” Gerta ground out.

“Thank you,” I said. Even their sour faces couldn’t quench my happiness. I almost could have kissed them.

“So we can cancel that trip, Father,” I heard Gregory saying.

“You could take it as a honeymoon, I should imagine.”

“Honeymoon! Yes, it’s time to be thinking of wedding plans!” Queen Jane chimed in.

I turned to Mrs. Wilkins. “You’ll make my dress, won’t you?”

Mrs. Wilkins opened her mouth, then froze in mid-word. “I—I suppose—my heavens, what a project! What a challenge!” Her eyes started to gleam. “Of course, my dear. A royal wedding dress!” And she wandered off in a daze, lost in a world of white silk, pearls, and Trelonian lace.

An hour later, when all the congratulating and greeting were done, when the king and queen had gone off to draft a Proclamation of Royal Engagement and Lucy and Gerta had slunk home with Stepmama and Mon Petit, when Anna had hugged me for the last time and left with James, and when Henry and Mrs. Wilkins had dragged Archibald down to the kitchen to share the good news with Lottie (and via the other servants, with the rest of the town), when everything was quiet, Prince Gregory and I went for a walk together in the palace courtyard.

The late October day was filled with golden sunlight. The strong wind had died down, and a few vivid leaves still hung quivering on the branches of an oak. Bright orange and bronze daisies glowed next to a quietly splashing fountain. We walked, and talked, and finally sat on a marble bench.

Gregory picked a daisy and offered it to me. “I hope you won’t mind being queen one day.”

“I don’t think I will. It couldn’t be as bad as washing dishes for Lucy and Gerta, do you think?”

He laughed. “I don’t think you’ll need to do that any more! And you can ask my mother about being a queen. She likes you, by the way.”

“You can tell?”

“Oh, yes. And she has never liked your stepsisters much.”

“That’s too bad, because I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of them around the palace.”

“What did my old nurse say? ‘What can’t be cured must be endured.’ Perhaps we can travel a lot.”

“Gregory—” I put my hand out toward his. “Seriously! Do you think—that your parents mind—about me not being royal?”

“Mind? Mother wasn’t royal, you know. She was the daughter of an earl.”

“But I’m only the stepdaughter of a dowager duchess. A merchant’s daughter, really. And a penniless one at that.”

Gregory looked up at the palace. “Truthfully, I had already told them this morning that my heart was set on a merchant’s daughter. I only had to find her first. They had questions, but when I told them about you—I think they knew how it was. How it would be.”

I stared unseeing past the fountain, then looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “This is all so unbelievable, Your Highness. Are you
sure
you found the right girl? There were hundreds of us at the ball.”

“Only one for me,” said Gregory, and he leaned over and kissed me.

14

Happily Ever After

Our wedding was magnificent.

It took place the following April. The town square was full of flowering cherry trees, and when we came through the cathedral doors after the ceremony, pink petals drifted in the breeze. The crowd cheered as I stood in my gleaming lace and pearl dress and waved, and Gregory held my hand and waved, and Mrs. Wilkins, who was standing near the door, cried, and Stepmama blotted her eyes with a very expensive handkerchief as she hung on to Mrs. Wilkins’s arm.

I did not observe either Lucy or Gerta crying.

Then Gregory looked down at me with a smile and squeezed my hand, and we swept down the stairs into the carriage amid a clangor of bells and drove back to the palace for the reception.