Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells (12 page)

“
No, I… I mean, I did meet someone but not… I mean…”

“
Take a deep breath, dear. Stammering is not conducive to conversation,” said the Dame, “Let me call for tea and you can tell me the story from the beginning.”

So Ella sat quiet while Dame Merriweather spoke a moment with the maid, and then she told her Godmother about Max. The Dame laughed so hard she spilled her tea when Ella tried to describe the rice balls with raw egg.

“
They were truly unpleasant, Godmother.”

“
Well, darling, you knew they were going to be.” Dame Merriweather wiped her eyes with a lacy napkin. “Ah, to be young again.”

“
I’m twenty-two, Godmother, I’m hardly a child.” Ella’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“
No, dear, of course not. You let the boy goad you into eating that disgusting thing because of your many years and great wisdom.”

Both of them laughed, but Ella quickly grew wistful.

“
I just had so much fun. It’s seemed like an age since I joked and laughed and enjoyed myself. With Max it was so easy. I had been dreading the ball, but when the time came for me to leave I wished I could stay.”

“
While I can understand your sentiments, my dear, it hardly seems worth bursting in on me like your bustle had caught fire.”

“
Godmother, no one wears a bustle anymore.”

“
My dear child,
I
wear a bustle. And stop trying to change the subject.”

“
I wasn’t, I was just…”

“
Go on. Tell me what else happened.” Dame Merriweather leaned forward, looking for all the world like one of Millicent’s cronies, waiting for an especially juicy piece of gossip.

“
Well, this morning he came to the shop.” Ella paused, but the Dame just waited. “I had been worried and fretting all morning, but when he walked in it was like it all fell away. He even brought back my sewing basket—I’d left it at the ball.” Ella wasn’t sure what her Godmother would say to the next part of her tale, but she bravely kept going. “I felt like I had to do something to thank him, and he suggested… he suggested…”

“
Yes, dear? What was it he suggested?” Ella got the feeling that her Godmother already knew, but that was ridiculous. That wry tone of voice was just natural to the Dame
;
she was reading too much into it.

“
He suggested I make him a costume for the next ball.”

“
And you agreed.”

“
Yes, I agreed.” They gazed at one another for a long moment before Dame Merriweather spoke.

“
Dear, you know I’m the last one to care what people think—I mean, look at the household I keep,” she waved a hand vaguely about, as though to indicate all the general oddities that surrounded her, “but you do realize that people will talk if you take on male clients when you have no male staff.”

Ella shook her head. “I’m not taking on male
clients
, Godmother. I’m just doing this for Max.”

“
He’s still a man, dear, and last time I checked, people would be scandalized to find you’d fit him for anything.”

She shook her head again, more vigorously. “Titillated, perhaps, but no more than that. Just enough to give my shop’s reputation a spice of fun, not enough to drive patrons away with the scandal. After all, they’ll all assume that his valet brought me his measurements, not that I…” Ella clapped her hand over her mouth. Perhaps her Godmother hadn’t needed that much information.

“
Did you, dear? How interesting. You’ll have to tell me all about that… someday.”

Ella blushed. Something about Dame Merriweather’s knowing looked made her sure that her Godmother probably didn’t need to be
told
anything, she’d already
guessed
quite enough.

“
Anyway, after all our talking and—well, yes, I suppose it
was
flirting—all of a sudden he just acted so… proper. Like he had never teased me or laughed with me or challenged me at all! I have no idea what came over him, but he just withdrew.” Ella bit her lip. “He’s supposed to come for a fitting in two days time, and, Godmother, I feel so… so…” Words failed her. She was startled to hear a peal of laughter coming for the Dame.

“
Ella, my darling girl, with all your thoughts focused on opening your shop, affairs of a more
typical
nature may have escaped your notice. But I never thought you could become besotted and not recognize the symptoms!”

“
Besotted! Godmother, I am not besotted. I cannot be besotted. I don’t have time.”

This pronouncement only provoked further laughter.

“
Godmother, he is a noble. And not an impoverished noble, either. There is no chance that he could have any sort of serious intentions towards me. And as for me, I don’t even know who he
is.
I enjoy laughing with him, and I enjoy looking at him,” she stopped to glare at her Godmother until the latter’s laughter subsided, “but that is all. That is all it can be.”

Dame Merriweather’s mirth fell away, replaced by a gentle smile, full of love for her Godchild.

“
Then, my girl, you must ask yourself, if your mind is so clearly made up, why are you so confused?”

***

Ella stepped slowly down from her Godmother’s carriage. After the Dame’s pointed question Ella had found no reply she could make, and, though she stayed to visit a bit longer, her mind was not on their conversation. It was traveling in circles around the question: why
was
she so confused? She had pondered it the whole way home, ignoring her surroundings, letting her Godmother’s coach woman tell her when they had arrived. She
could not
care, and therefore she
did not
care. And if, by some truly horrible chance, she
did
care (and this thought she whispered, even in her mind), then what sort of hurt would she be in for, since he clearly could not be for her?

CHAPTE
R TEN

At the parlor in the Emberton house, Prudence, Beatrice, and Millicent were all in deep conversation when Ella stepped in. As soon as they saw her they rose, with many cries, much swirling, and an excess of flapping, to draw her down on the sofa and include her in their conference. Ella felt like she was settled in the midst of a flock of giant geese. All three were trying very earnestly to tell her something, and the noise was overwhelming. Finally Ella threw up her hands.

“
One at a time, please.”

Beatrice and Millicent both looked at Prudence, who immediately turned bright red. Since her daughter was at a loss for words, Millicent began.

“
Well, Eleanor, darling, last night at the ball Prudence concocted a clever little scheme to meet a young man who caught her eye…”

Ella missed the next few sentences. Prudence had concocted a scheme? Prudence? She glanced at her stepsister quizzically.

“
I read it in a book once,” Prudence told her softly
.
“
I
t worked well enough there.”

Millicent was still talking, oblivious to the interchange.

“
… and then, when she finally pretended to trip—get up and show Ella how you tripped, darling…” Prudence dutifully obeyed, walking slowly toward the couch and then, pantomiming alarm and dismay, collapsing forwards in a heap on the cushions. Ella was rather impressed.

“
As I say, when she finally tripped, the blackguard stepped aside!” Prudence picked her head up from her inelegant heap, and it was clear from the look on her face that she was mortified. Millicent began to pace, full of outrage at this insult to her daughter, and Beatrice began fluttering her hands, uncertain if she should help and comfort Prudence or loose her temper like Millicent. Ella turned to Prudence.

“
Pru, are you all right?”

“
Oh, I banged my knee a bit, but I hurt my pride more.” Prudence spoke in her quiet way, and Millicent and Beatrice barely noticed.

“
Perhaps he just didn’t see you?”

“
No,” as impossible as it seemed, Prudence was actually blushing even harder, “as he walked away I heard him make a comment about women throwing themselves at him all the time.”

“
Oh Prudence,” Ella wrapped her arms around her stepsister’s shoulders, “I’m sorry. Whatever did you do?”

“
Well…”

Beatrice had overheard the last question, and, seeing Prudence hesitate, rushed to answer.

“
Never fear, another chap was standing by, and he helped her right up.” On hearing this, Millicent abruptly stopped pacing.

“
Another chap?” Prudence didn’t respond, but Beatrice was happy to continue.

“
Oh yes, a lovely fellow with red hair. He leaned right down and picked her up, must be rather strong, and then dusted her off a bit. She tried to thank him, but he just said to think nothing of it, he was glad he could be of some use to her, and then he walked off.”

Millicent began questioning Beatrice about the helpful young man, but Ella looked at Prudence. There was a look of such embarrassment on her face that Ella knew there was more to this than Beatrice had related.

“
Pru…”

“
He’d wanted me to dance.” Prudence was whispering, but Ella heard her.

“
What?”

“
He had wanted me to dance. Earlier.”

“
Well, was he a good dancer?”

“
I don’t know, I wouldn’t dance with him.”

“
Why ever not?” Prudence didn’t respond, and for a moment Ella thought she didn’t intend to at all. Then, very quietly;

“
His hair.”

“
His… hair?”

“
Yes, his hair. It’s red.”

“
It’s red.”