The Wronged Princess - Book I (33 page)

“You’ve done it this time, Cill,” Essie accused, wheezing with exhaustion
. 

Cinderella shifted her arms
beneath
Prince’s shoulders
. 
B
arely
did she
register
Essie’s words
when
she found her cheek brushing his
. 
The intimacy of the position shook her to her very core
. 
Heated breath from his parted lips on her skin created a brilliant charge in the air
. 
She felt dizzy from the
unexpected
contact
. 
Her fingers drifted to the hair felled over his brow.

If she dropped dead at this moment in time she would die a happy woman
. 
She savored the sensations
. 
I
n the arms of her
almost
love.

“Do hurry, Cinderella
. 
We
have no idea how long
these
efforts can be contained
. 
This stick is unpredictable, at best.”

Cinderella snapped to, managing
to arrange
Prince
as
comfortable
as
possible under the circumstances
. 
She
somehow resisted the urge to brush back a curling lock of hair from his forehead, and distanced herself at once.

“They are sure to hang us from the gallows on the morrow,” Essie avowed, gulping for air.

Cinderella couldn’t have agreed more.

“There is the strangest current in the air,” Pricilla said
. 
“I vow I did not do a thing.”

“Not much you didn’t,” Essie muttered
. 
“Quick, I believe he may be stirring.
”

A statement
that effectively sent
all concerned scrambling for the door.

*****

“
I believe
I have now seen
all
,” Arnald jeered.

Prince groaned before venturing to open one eye
. 
Arnald stood over him, hands at his hips. The smirk on his lips aggravated Prince, to no end
. 
“Is your hovering absolutely necessary?”

“
Ha!
" Arnald held out his hand, warding off any explanation Prince may have had
inclined
to offer
. 
Which he did not
. 
"Do not tell me
. 
You swooned?”

Prince hid a surge of panic behind a lifted brow and mocking tone
. 
“You, sir, can be banished to the dungeons to survive on rations of molded bread and tepid water for the rest of your natural life.”

Arnald shot him a quick grin and stepped toward the table near his head
. 
“
Non
.
You know your blessed
mamán
would ne
’
er allow anything of the sort for her sister’s only child.”

That much was true, though Prince refused to acknowledge it aloud
. 
Arnald was difficult enough without encouragement from that quarter.

He pondered Arnald’s previous question
. 
“I cannot seem to remember much of anything.
”
Well, that was not quite true
. 
He remembered startling three attractive young women in his private sitting chamber but that did not bear mentioning
. 
And how had he landed on the settee
?
Mayhap they used the wind from Ernalda’s freakishly strong lashes.

He pushed himself to a sitting position
. 
His head did not appear to be pounding from a blow of any sort
. 

“If I may be so bold—
”

“Are you ever anything else?” he interrupted.

“—mayhap you imbibed one to
o
many, sire.”

“Imbibed?
”
Prince was ready to throttle him.

Arnald kneeled down on one
knee
. 
“Your brandy snifter—”
he said, picking up the base of the glass
. 
He held it out in an open palm
. 
“Broken.”

Dumbfounded, Prince repeated, “Broken?
”
He contemplated the smashed glass for a moment
. 
His head did not seem to be pounding from the inside out
. 
In fact, the last liquor he remembered feasting on was the small bit just before bed the night before
. 
He leaned forward, elbows on knees and dropped his head in his hands
. 
Something odd was going on
. 
Instinct
, whispered
t
h
at
his mother and her mysterious friend, Faustine, were, if not the entire cause, then certainly had some inkling behind the strange goings-on
. 
He was sure of it
. 
But what
?
“Call someone to clear up this mess
. 
We have information to uncover
. 
And I believe I know just where to begin.”

“Should we not be strategizing your kidnapping
?
The betrothal ball is but a few days, hence.”

He responded to Arnald’s sarcasm with a touch of his own
. 
“Or mayhap a lynching,” he muttered.

Chapter
29

"We must return it," Cinderella insisted
. 
"Someone is bound to discover its disappearance."

"I do not
want
to return it yet.
”

Cinderella was surprised Pricilla did not stomp her foot like an errant child
. 
The shiny stick had not so much as loosened from her tightly fisted fingers.

The three girls had hurried to Cinderella's chamber with no one the wiser
. 
Cinderella was certain their luck could not hold out much longer.

"Well, I want my turn with it," Essie demanded.

"Oh, no," Cinderella mumbled under her breath, she would never get it back to Fairy Godmother at this rate.

"Someone is coming," Pricilla hissed
. 
She thrust the stick in Cinderella's hand just as the door to
the
chamber burst forth
. 

Cinderella dropped her arms to her side and managed to disguise it within the plush folds of her skirts.

"There you are, children.
”
Stepmamá
strode in
. 
She ignored Cinderella to address Pricilla and Essie
. 
"I have begged an audience with Conte de Lecce and his son
. 
We shall meet him within the hour."

"Not Alessandro,
Mamá
," Pricilla scowled and Essie gasped, simultaneously
. 

Unnerving, Cinderella thought.

Stepmamá’s
narrowed eyes on Essie held a dangerous glint
. 
"What is this, Esmeralda?"

"No…nothing,
Mamá
," Essie stuttered.

"I did not think so.
”
Her smile appeared more a sneer with her jowls shaking so
. 
It sent a terror of tingles over Cinderella's skin
. 

She grazed Cinderella with a look so
malicious;
Cinderella shrunk back
reminding her tenfold her place of less than a fortnight ago
. 
How was she to escape such hatred
?
This was the woman her loving
papá
had promised himself for all eternity
. 
What was it Cinderella did that so dismayed her
?
If she could but fix it, she would
. 
She blinked back sudden tears.

"I suppose we have no choice but to include
you
.
”
Stepmamá
turned back to Pricilla
. 
"You must look your best.” She threw her arms wide
. 
“I have grand plans for you, my darling."

“
Oui,
Mamá
.
”
The contrite tone Pricilla offered
Stepmamá
was in complete contrast to the sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

"Come along, then
. 
You too, Esmeralda
. 
The prince will be in attendance as well
. 
We have much work to do.
”
She swung on her heel and bounded from the room like a large houn
d.

Pushing away the dampness,
Cinderella's sympathies followed Pricilla and Essie from the chamber as they had no choice
but
to trot after her like pedigreed puppies
,
leaving the door ajar in their wake
. 

She glanced down at her hands and all sympathy flew out the window
. 
She still held the silver baton Pricilla had thrust at her
. 
Mayhap
her
luck
had
changed
. 
The little stick pulsated with life.

This was her chance to
return
it to its owner
. 
Nervous exhilaration pounded through her veins
. 
She may not be what one could refer to as a free spirit, too prim and proper, she thought—not without disgust
—
but she was one to follow through, however dangerous the undertaking
. 
She moved to the door and risked a peek down the hall
. 

All clear.

Now, if she only knew where to find the deserted wing Pricilla had mentioned
. 
She contemplated the baton in her hand for a moment
. 
Wrapping both hands
tightly round the base, she closed her eyes and held it out
. 
Mayhap, it could guide the way
. 

Nothing happened for a moment—then her slippered feet moved on a path of their own volition
. 
It was a strange sensation, indeed, when one's mind was not in sync with one's feet
. 
She satisfied herself with
breathing deeply and
maintaining a vigil watch.

The little baton guided her through
the
winding turns of cold dark passageways lit only by the glow emanating from the magical little stick
. 
Short, oblong windows as perfectly spaced apart as the candled sconces in her own hallway had
no coverings
to protect the dank walls from the weather
. 
A
cool breeze passing
through generated an eerie whistle effect that sent chills up her spine
. 
Cobwebs dangled in the dimness like eerie ghostlike figures
that stirred
in the wind.

Cinderella’s feet showed no signs of slowing as they guided her on her unknown path
. 
Dust kicked up from her swishing skirts filled her nostrils threatening a sneeze
. 
Relief vaulted through her several long moments later when she finally happened upon the dancing shadows of a flickering taper.

But the sound of deep voices
froze her
in her tracks.

*****

“I must protest this avenue of your investigation,” Arnald complained.

“If you are frightened, by all means, I will meet up with you later.
”
Prince was vastly amused by Arnald’s discomfort, and he took great delight in letting him see so
. 

“I am not afraid,” he growled.

But it was quite clear Arnald hesitated at the door of the chamber where Prince heard his mother conspiring with the mysterious Faustine
. 
He sauntered in, using the taper he held to light two of the four sconces on the wall
. 
"Much better," he said glancing around.