The Wronged Princess - Book I (10 page)

In retrospect, the hum
did
resemble something more toward alarm rather than admiration
. 
And, truly, if they were alarmed by
Stepmamá's
presence, it must say something for the intelligence of the population, she supposed
. 
Oh, my, her stepsisters cruel humor must be rubbing off
. 
Unable to resist, she risked all by leaning to one side to peer beyond
Stepmamá
where a cloistered group hovered all agog.

Cinderella's patience ebbed slightly as it was difficult at best to see around
Stepmamá’s
immense build
. 
A gradual trepidation settled low in her belly as she descended the step, cognizant that no one paid her any mind
. 
The coolness of the flagstones seeped through the thin soles of her shoes and stockings
. 

Something appeared quite wrong.

Her gaze locked on
black
shiny boots that reflected the sun in their high polish
. 
She followed the line of the massive form lying on the ground. Her hand covered a convulsive choke
as her gaze followed the line of the d
ark breeches stretched over strong muscled limbs,
to
arms flung
out
. 
He was dead?

And she knew
. 
Knew those were the arms that had enveloped her in a grasp that defied gravity when he’d guided her through a crowded ballroom that parted with their presence
. 
Had her floating on air when he’d murmured his “How do you dos?
”
When she never thought she’d come down to earth again.

Snatches of rumbling conversations poked at her like the pricks of a
thousand
needle
s
. 
But they made no sense.

“…was too much…”

“…dropped like an anchor in the sea…”

“…the poor dear…”

“…has not been the same since…”

“…a shame…”

“…such weak constitution…”

A weak constitution
?
Inappropriate giggles threatened to escape
. 
They
could
not be speaking of her Prince
. 
Cinderella fell to her knees
. 
Unmindful of the sharp gasps surrounding her, the outraged squawks of her stepsisters and
Stepmamá
. 

With tentative fingers she touched his hand
. 
Warm
fingers curled round hers
. 
She could not see his face, the curve of his lips, or shock of dark hair
. 
But
there was no mistaking
the crackle of awareness over her skin. The
prick of cupid’s arrow pierced
her heart as star
k as a bolt of lightning streaking
across a blackened sky.

Prince
. 

“Cinderella!”
Stepmamá
snapped, giving her quite the start
. 
Had she said his name aloud
?

“Prince, Prince, please wake, my darling,” she prayed under her breath.

“Stop that incessant muttering, child!” Pain wrenched through her jerked arm as she found herself hauled from her knees, her hand cold without his touch. She resisted the urge to struggle knowing the futility
of
resistance
. 

“Give the man some air
,
”
someone called out.

Tears filled Cinderella’s eyes as she
found
herself
jostled
aside, pushed farther and farther
outside
the
ensuing
circle
surrounding her love’s lifeless body
.

*****

Prince
could only imagine how he appeared,
sprawled
on the flagstones
like a bird shot from the sky
. 
H
orrified at what could not have possibly happened, yet what
must
have happened
, not a muscle flinched by sheer will
. 
Only
shallow intakes
,
he dared to breathe in the scent of the mid autumn air touched with pine cones.

A gentle breeze sounded with
the rustling of
falling leaves
. 
The
cool stones seeped through the coat on his back
. 
Only the chaos of shocked voices stayed him
. 
There would be no facing down his dear
m
amán
after this disastrous debacle
. 
She
’d
won this round, hands down
, whatever her game
.

A strange
,
appealing
warmth caressed his fingers
. 
There was
a touch
of
familiarity he found unidentifiable
. 
Every cell in his body ached to grasp it, run away with it
. 
A touch
full of comfort
and affinity
,
whispering
he
’d found
where he belonged
. 
Even flat on his back
. 
An odd notion to be sure
. 
It mad
e no sense.

The cras
s
brittle sound of his betrothed’s revolting mother chased away the warmth
, d
issipating it with the swiftness of the sharp cold breeze of her voice
. 
A sound he heartily wished he’d be
en
able to eradicate from recent memory
. 
Alas,
’t
was
not to be so.

“Cinderella,” she snapped
. 

It was too much to hope no one
had
noticed
his precarious position
, he supposed
. 
Prince chanced a peek through the barely raised lid of one eye
. 
The sun still shone brightly overhead through fluffy white clouds
. 
Yet brisk wind gusts seemed to mock his very soul
. 
He stifled a wince on sight of the round of faces peering over him
. 

A
wretched
situation
. 

How could a man of nineteen years succumb to such a state
?
He fervently wished he’d wake
n
from some dreadful dream
. 
No such luck, of course, as his mother bark
ed
an order to Arnald in a low commanding tone that could surely have raised France from the depths of despair over the years
. 
He clamped his eyes shut allowing his cousin to hoist him over one shoulder like a sack of turnips
, a
way from the ogling audience
. 
The further the better.

Brilliant
. 
Just brilliant.

Divine intervention flashed through him like the pain of a dull carving knife dug deep
. 
He should never have set about
Chalmers
to find a woman whose foot fit in a blasted slipper
. 
He could see that now
. 
He
just
wished someone had mentioned the fact.

She
must
have been a dream, he decided
. 
He’d d
reamt the entire episode
. 
That, or he’d fallen under the spell of wood nymphs and faeries
. 
I
t had all seemed so real
, he sighed
. 
He could still see
her
as she’d been that night
. 
Silken skirts billowing out with each turn he
’d
guided her
through the lighted ballroom
. 
C
andlelight enhancing auburn highlights in mahogany upswept hair
. 

“Ten minutes ago I met you,” he’d murmured.

“You looked up when I came through the door,” she smiled softly.

“I wanted to ring out the bells, fling out my arms, to sing out the news…”

Prince groaned
. 
Mayhap he’d lost all of his faculties
. 
It could happen
. 

Oui
, he decided, it was too
unreal
. 
He’d been brainwashed
. 
Age did not slow with time, the pressure of duty to marry and the guilt from
M
amán
had sent him hurling into a fevered imagination
. 
Besotted and held helpless by dreams
that
had truly taken over his sanity
, p
lunged him into dire madness
. 
  He’d reached for the skies and he’d liked it so well…

It explained everything, he reasoned
. 
Even ported over his cousin’s shoulder it made perfect sense.

Well, except for her exceptional beauty
, the breath of her laughter
. The softness of her cheek next to his, her fit in his arms as they’d
waltzed
through the ballroom
. 
And…what of the slipper he’d found abandoned on the stair?

Mon...Dieu
, he
was
mad
. 
’T
was
not possible she was a fig
ment
of his imagination.
The slipper was real
. 
He had it in his possession,
oui
?
So why had not he been able to find
her
?

“
Mayhap
I
should marry Egberta and be done with the entire business
,
oui
, Arnald
?
Please
M
amán
? D
o
my
duty
?
That had been the sole purpose of the ball,
non
?
”

“What are you mumbling about?”

“T
he wood nymphs have cast a spell on
me
. 
Truly,
’t
is
the only answer.
”
Though no sound emanated from his cousin, the vibration of laughter was
unmistakable
.

Never had his
chambers
seemed so far
away
. 
Prince suffered through the humiliation
hauled over Arnald’s shoulders
. 
It occurred to him the servants would be quite entertained
. 
Oh, not to his face, mind
. 
What the devil did it matter, they had little enough excitement in their dreary lives
. 

When
Arnald
finally
reached his quarters and dumped him on the bed
it was
with unceremonious hilarity
. 
Not aloud, Prince observed, at least not yet
. 
Such restraint had to be admired.

Mere seconds passed before Arnald finally let loose
his
suppressed laughter.
As Prince’s closest relative in proximity and age
, his comfort level in dealing Prince was not without its advantages
. 
It could change.

Prince did not shift his position on the massive bed
. 
No
n
. He lay frozen like a
corpse
, appalled by the turn of events
. 
Even the groan in his throat stifled in shock
. 
Mayhap he was dazed by the lump on his head
. 
He placed fingertips
to his temples
. 
There was no lump
. 
Oui
, the wood nymphs
. 
He would have them imprisoned.