Banished: Book 1 of The Grimm Laws (10 page)

“
Truffle
,” she supplied.

“
Truffle
be a symbol of our new …” he winked “…
friendship
.” He plopped it in his mouth. “Um, that’s good.” He motioned. “Now you.”

She took one and put it in her mouth. “Yes,” she agreed, “very good. Well, it’s getting late. I need to go.”

He nodded. “Me too.” Then he flashed a cryptic smile and began reciting.

She shook her head. “Too charming and way too handsome,” she muttered under her breath, watching him saunter away. He had her in the palm of his hand, and he knew it. At the moment, being in the palms of his capable hands didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

E
lle tossed and turned
, her thoughts going back to Rush more often than they should, until she drifted off into an uneasy sleep. The perfect sweetness of the truffle she’d eaten earlier wafted over her senses, and before she knew it, she was lifting higher and higher until she was floating. She was twisting and turning in the empty space, across jagged mountains and blue lakes, without a care in the world, but then a familiar curve in the landscape captured her attention. She paused to get a closer look, going down, down, down.
It’s a dream
, her mind whispered, but somehow she remembered having been here before. There was a dot in the distance, but as she neared it, it grew large before her—a house. A very large house that was big enough to be a hotel. She recognized the gray stone, the massive wooden door, the windows that were crisscrossed with thin strips of metal, creating infinite diamond shapes. There was a slight opening in one of the windows. A tiny crack that was as welcoming as a summer’s breeze. It beckoned to her, and she floated closer through the open space and into the house …

She might’ve heard the faint sound of pinging glass the first time, had Cinderella not been so focused on mending the torn frock. She’d caught the hem on a post the day before as she was feeding the chickens. If only she could tuck away enough farthings to buy cloth for a new frock then perhaps Rushton’s mom would think her a good candidate for a Lady in Waiting. She sighed, knowing that there would be no new frock and most likely no opportunity of ever going to the castle. It was Rushton who had planted the idea in her head. He kept insisting that he could persuade his mother to put in a good word for her. She’s on a first-name basis with the King, he assured her. “If she recommends you then you’ll certainly get selected.”

What Rushton hadn’t figured on, however, was his mother’s vehement dislike for Cinderella. And as far as Cinderella could tell, it was all on account of the fact that Cinderella was a poor servant girl in her stepmother’s home. It didn’t matter that her father was once a duke. He died impoverished with a tarnished reputation, and that made Cinderella tarnished too. Wisteria Avalonia Porter of Florin, Rushton’s mother, was a famed singer who entertained the King’s Court. Rushton was certain that he could change his mother’s mind about her, but Cinderella wasn’t so sure. Still, she hated to dash his hopes, and in her heart of hearts, a part of her wanted to believe him. Somehow, in the midst of all of Rushton’s persuading, his hopes had become her own. The ping sounded more loudly, followed by a succession of other pings. She put down the frock and went to the window. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Rushton on the ground, throwing pebbles up at the window. She opened it and called down to him. “Hello!”

He motioned. “Come down, we need to talk.” He flashed her a smile so brilliant that it would’ve made the sun envious.

She glanced over her shoulder, afraid that Josselyn or Seraphina would see her talking to him. “I have to finish my chores,” she called back, knowing full well that by the time she finished the long list of tasks that Seraphina required her to do, the sunset bell would’ve already sounded, and it would be time for supper.

He waved the comment away. “Come down,” he urged, his expression impatient and pleading at the same time. “Please.” He pressed the flats of his palms together and lifted the tips of his fingers to his lips.

She let out a breath, knowing that it was useless to protest. Rushton could talk her into doing almost anything. “I’ll be right there.”

“
A
gain
,” Rushton said, eyeing her critically, “but this time, do it with confidence. Thou art a Lady in Waiting—bred from a life of culture and dignity.”

Culture and dignity? Two things she knew little about thanks to her difficult upbringing. Rushton was sitting on the ground, his back resting against a bale of hay. He was the picture of elegance in his rich green tunic that was emblazoned with the King’s coat of arms and his velvet cap, befitting the noble squire he was. What did he know of hardship or depravity? She put her hands on her hips. “Yes, let me see, yesterday, when I was milking the cow, we were discussing the importance of setting a proper table, and then when I was feeding the hogs, I gave them the proper curtsy …” she lifted the hem of her frock and gave him an exaggerated dip … “like so.”

He made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Watch that temper, it’ll get the better of thee every time.”

“Whatever dost thou mean?” She batted her eyes.

He chuckled. “Keep wearing your expressions on your sleeve, and you’ll be the target of every other Lady in Waiting from Aandover Peaks to the next kingdom.” He lifted his chin in mock solemnity and looked at her as if she were the lowliest of peons. “Thou must be the picture of dignity.” His voice took on the tone of an entitled royal, reminding her of the puffed-up peacock of a man she’d seen in the marketplace, some duke with a title long enough to be a book, from some place she’d never heard of. Rushton brought his hand to his chin, cupping it in a dignified manner. “Thou must exude grace …” he made a flourish with his hand “… and control.”

She chuckled despite herself. “I never knew thou were so
royal
,” she teased, her eyes twinkling.

His eyes met hers, and his expression grew serious. “The truth is, I’m no more royal than you.” He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “In fact, I’m in reality less of a royal than you, as your father was a duke.”

“A foolish duke who squandered away the family fortune,” she said regretfully.

“The point is, Cinderella, there is greatness in thee.” The sincerity of his words pricked at her, causing her eyes to go misty. If only she could believe him, but in reality she was nothing—a peasant in her stepmother’s home. Seraphina had kept her on for one reason—she’d worked hard and proven herself useful. She’d lived her life in fear, knowing that one misstep could get her thrown out. She blinked rapidly and looked at the ground, her shoulders deflated in defeat. He stood and went to her side.

“Hey.” The tenderness in his voice turned her to mush, and she couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Hey,” he said again. “Thou canst do this. They will only see what ye let them. Ye must convince them that thou art a lady.” His voice was so firm and unyielding that she was forced to comply.

She still had her doubts as to whether or not she could pull it off, but he believed in her so completely. For his sake, she had to at least try. She gave him a stiff smile. “Okay.”

He caressed her cheek with his thumb, causing her pulse to bump up a notch. Ever since that fateful day when he’d saved her from the bully, the two of them had been inseparable. At first, she only thought of him as a friend. No, that’s not true. He’d always been more than a friend. He was her best friend, her confidant, the spark of light in her otherwise dark world. He was her salvation, her everything. But lately, things between them had started to change. She’d seen him, when he thought she wasn’t looking, studying her with a fierce intensity that kindled a fire inside of her. Whenever he came near, her heart leapt in anticipation. He had awakened the best part of her—a part that she never knew existed. Life was rich and wonderful when Rushton was at her side. She would go to the castle for Rushton. It was as simple as that.

“Let’s try it once more,” he said, his voice laced with tenderness. “If ye do it properly, we’ll go for a ride on Shadow tomorrow.” He motioned at the calico horse that was tethered to the side of the barn.

“Really?” She couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out on her lips.

He nodded.

She laughed. “You’re bribing me, aren’t you?” Rushton had taught her to ride, and he knew it was the one thing she loved to do more than anything else.

“Whatever it takes,” he said, mischief dancing in his eyes. As he gazed down at her, his expression changed to something more complex. His lips parted, and he seemed to be battling within himself as his blue eyes went a shade darker. Her breath caught, and she wondered if he was going to kiss her. Instead he encircled her waist and started twirling her around. “Next, I’ll teach you to dance,” he murmured.

Her face went warm, and she could feel her pulse pounding painfully in her ears. She didn’t know how much longer she could stand being this close without kissing him.

The ringing of the sunset bell sent a feeling of foreboding rushing over her. She stopped. “Oh no, I’ve lost track of time. My chores.” Panic made it difficult to breathe. She’d gotten so caught up in spending time with Rushton that she’d neglected to do them. Seraphina would be livid.

He caught her wrist. “They’re taken care of.”

“What?” She shook her head. “Ye don’t understand. I was supposed to feed the chickens, draw water from the well, clean the floors, dust the furniture, make the bread, and …”

“Whoa! Take a breath.”

Angry tears welled in her eyes. There was no way she could explain the depth of Seraphina’s anger or the wrath that she would surely incur.

“Thy chores are already done.”

“Nay … that’s impossible.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Aye, let’s just say that Josselyn and I came to a little arrangement.”

A furrow appeared between her brows. She didn’t like the idea of Josselyn and Rushton having an arrangement. She didn’t like the idea of Rushton having an agreement with any maiden other than herself.

“Josselyn agreed to do your chores today and the rest of the week in exchange for a favor.”

“What favor?” she asked, her tone wary. “‘Tis a mistake, Rushton. She’ll lie to thy face, and she won’t hold up her end of the bargain.”

“Oh, she’ll hold up her end of this bargain, I can promise you that.”

She shook her head, not liking the sound of this. What favor had Rushton agreed to? She wouldn’t put anything past Josselyn. “What did you promise her?”

“An opportunity to attend the King’s Ball in the castle.”

Her jaw dropped. “But … how?” Invitations to the King’s Ball were only extended to the highest dignitaries. For an entire year, Seraphina had been trying unsuccessfully to secure an invitation to the King’s Ball on Josselyn’s behalf.

He smiled. “The Prince and I are like this,” he said, holding up crossed fingers.

“Really?”

She knew Rushton was highly respected, but she hadn’t realized that he’d risen to such heights. Of course, he was well spoken, terribly handsome, and brilliant. It was only natural that he would attract attention. An unbidden jealousy seized her as she thought about the ladies in the court—attractive ladies in fine dresses, unlike the dreadful frock she was wearing. Those ladies had most assuredly noticed his witty charm and infectious smile. She cringed thinking of Rushton dancing with someone else.

“Don’t look so crestfallen. I’ll get you an invitation to the ball as well.” He lifted an eyebrow in a challenge. “Under one condition.”

“Oh, yeah, and what is that, pray tell?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “No more curtsying to the hogs, okay?”

She laughed. “Agreed.”

“And no more conversations with the cow.” He shook his head. “Otherwise, people might start to talk.” His eyes twinkled.

She nodded. He spun her around once more, and then she reluctantly extricated herself from his grasp. “I have to go home now.”

He nodded. “Meet me here tomorrow?” As he spoke the words, she saw a yearning in his eyes that caused her heart to flip. He was feeling it too—this incredible attraction between them. The thought sent her hopes soaring upward to the sky.

“You can count on it.” She made a promise to herself right then and there that she would learn all of the silly things it required to be a Lady in Waiting. She would impress his mother and go to the castle, so that she could be near Rushton. And she would do whatever it took to earn his heart because it was becoming painfully clear that somehow—without her realizing—he’d already stolen her heart.

Perhaps it had been his all along.

E
lle sat up in bed
. She looked around at the dark room and then lay back down. Talk about a doozy of a dream. She’d been flying over hills and … She stopped, searching her brain. She’d dreamt of someone. He’d been wonderful, funny, gorgeous, intense. A warmth shot through her.
Rushton
. The name rippled through her consciousness like fast-turning pages from a forgotten book. She frowned. Where had that come from? For starters, his name was
Rush
, not
Rushton
. And Rush was most certainly not the guy she’d been dreaming about! She laughed at the thought. What she needed the most at the moment was to get a good night’s sleep—no dreams!
Go back to sleep!
she commanded herself, but it was no use. She tossed and turned for another half hour before she finally let out a defeated breath and threw back the covers. She stood and went to the window. She had a bird’s-eye view of Rush’s home. The windows were all dark, and she had the uncanny impression that she was seeing into a face with fathomless, black eyes. Fleetingly, she wondered which room was his and then scowled at herself for thinking such a thing. He’d been somewhat nice to her on the roof, she admitted, although she still didn’t have a clue what had happened between the two of them before the accident. At least they were friends now. She made a face.
Or something
. She gathered her hair up in a ponytail. Rush was occupying way too much of her thoughts. The spiteful part of her hoped that she was driving him as crazy as he was driving her. She chuckled. That was wishful thinking on her part. He was probably sleeping like a baby.

R
ush punched
the pillow with his fist. He hated nights like this when he couldn’t get to sleep. It was all because of Elle. She was driving him crazy! One minute she was hot and the next minute she was cold. Things had gone well tonight. A slow smile stole across his face. Incredibly well. It was those moments like tonight that gave him a sliver of hope. Every time he decided to write her off for good, then she would do something to redeem herself. He’d been livid when she slapped him at the game, as if he didn’t have the right to kiss her in front of people. He’d certainly kissed her enough times in private. She was not immune to the strong attraction that rose up between them whenever they were near each other, he could see it in her eyes. She’d wanted him to kiss her, and he could have.
He should have
, but he was tired of being a stand-in for Edward. He was tired of her using him. If she couldn’t acknowledge that they were a couple in public, then he sure as heck wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of having a secret relationship. She seemed different now than she did before the accident, more sincere. The problem was, he wasn’t sure if it was real or another one of Elle’s elaborate games. Tonight, he’d almost believed her when she said that she’d forgotten everything. She’d looked so lost. His instinct was to throw his arms around her—to protect her from all of the hurt and uncertainty. But there was still a part of him that didn’t trust her. His life would be simpler if he could just forget about her. After all, it wasn’t as if he were lacking for female attention. There were plenty of girls that would give their right eye to go out with him. Even as he thought the words, an image of Elle flashed through his mind—her blonde hair, expressive eyes, those long legs, and that whimsical smile that held a touch of mystery. She’d gotten under his skin, into his blood, and it was killing him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his system.