Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells (17 page)

Max didn’t know what to say. He wanted to reassure his father, but could hardly let him know that his ability to make Vivienne happy wasn’t really an issue.

“
I don’t think Vivienne would run to tell her father, even if we did fight.”

“
Maybe not, Max, but she wouldn’t have to. Her royal father is going to be keeping a
very
close eye on you. Just keep that in mind.”

CHAPTER
THIR
TEEN

The Emberton house was flooded with young men. From the late morning bells until the chimes in the early evening, two, three, or
even more callers were perched on the dusty furniture in the parlor. Millicent was delighted. Some of the gents were wealthy, some were merely comfortable, but all found favor in her eyes. Beatrice held court, for these were her dance partners come to call.

“
Beatrice, Beatrice!” A thin young man with a piping voice and heavy wire-rimmed spectacles was trying to be heard over the laughter. “Would you do me the honor of reserving the first waltz for me tonight?”

“
La, Nigel,” responded the object of his adoration, “you’re the third chap who’s asked me. How can I possibly satisfy all of you?”

“
If anyone could, you could.” This pronouncement was accompanied by an adoring gaze. Nigel had never met a woman as blunt and unpretentious as Beatrice, and he found her enchanting.

“
I don’t want to waltz with you at all,” said Tony Sharp, a tall fellow with a roguish grin. “I want a polka. You’ve got such energy, Miss Beatrice, we’ll set the ballroom on fire.”

“
Then you may have a polka, Mr. Sharp,” replied Beatrice, “if you will fetch me punch afterwards, and dance attendance until I have caught my breath.”

“
It will be my pleasure.”

“
I won’t be able to dance much.” Mr. Clifton had twisted his ankle sadly while alighting from his coach after the last ball. “But I would be delighted if you were to join me for a hand of whist.”

“
Well, then, Mr. Clifton, you had best teach me the basics this morning, otherwise we shall be trounced at the ball.” This announcement by Beatrice caused every able
-
bodied man in the room to spring up and begin setting out small tables. After several rounds it became clear that Beatrice had a knack for cards, and the gathering went on to teach her the rules of other games. While all the men were turning out their pockets, searching for coins to use as stakes in a game of poker, one of them approached Prudence. She had spent the entire afternoon staring forlornly out the window while Beatrice entertained their callers.

“
Miss Prudence, won’t you join the game?”

Prudence sniffed and didn’t move. The request came from young Mr. Worther, and though Beatrice had confided in her sister that she found him “a right bloody bore,” she still welcomed him every time he arrived. Prudence thought it likely that the warm reception was more for the box of fine chocolates he always brought, than for the man himself, but she didn’t fault her sister. Any man who thought chocolate was all it took to win a woman’s heart deserved to have his bribe eaten and himself discarded.

Besides, Beatrice always shared the chocolate with Prudence. It really was very good.

Alas, the source of the chocolate had not been dissuaded by her lack of response. “Please, Miss Prudence? You’ve been staring out that window since I arrived.”

“
I am waiting for someone, Mr. Worther.”

“
What sort of gentleman keeps a lady as lovely as you waiting? Where does he live? I’ll run round and fetch him for you.”

“
I don’t know where he lives.”

“
Of course, of course, quite the whirlwind, these days. I don’t know where half the chaps I’ve met are lodging. What’s his name, then?”

“
I don’t know his name.”

“
Oh, one of those situations, is it? Danced with him but never learned his name, did you?”

“
No, I never danced with him.”

“
Full dance card, eh? Did he ask for permission to call when you didn’t have a chance to dance?”

“
No, he didn’t ask to call.”

“
Found out your name from a friend, then?”

“
I rather doubt he knows my name at all.”

“
Did he follow you home and find you that way?”

“
Mr. Worther, as far as I’m aware he has no idea of who or where I am.”

“
Pardon me, Miss Prudence, but if that’s the case, why are you expecting him?”

“
I’m not, really. I was just hoping he’d show up, anyway.”

***

Ella was swaying gently to the music, wrapped in Max’s arms. It was dawn, and even the most dedicated waltzers had gone to seek their rest, but Ella and Max were still dancing. As they moved around the floor Max held her tighter, and tighter, until their bodies were pressed against each other. It was scandalous, but Ella no longer cared what anyone thought. When Max tilted her chin up and bent towards her she surrendered to the moment, and went up on her toes, eager for their lips to finally meet. Her heart pounded in her ears.

No, wait, that wasn’t her heart.

Thud. “Hello?”

Thud, thud. “Ella?”

Thud, thud, THUD! “Eleanor!”

Ella groaned and piled both of her pillows on top of her head. However long she had been asleep, it hadn’t been long enough. Birds had been singing in the trees outside when she had finally fallen into bed this morning. All of the costumes she had made were safely with their various owners, though, and she had even remembered herself, this time. Of course, her costume was only old clothing once belonging to her father, but she had saved time to alter it just a bit.

Ella truly wasn’t sure how she had accomplished all that work. For the past week she had sewn late into the night, every night. In the darkest hours it would feel like she and the mouse that inhabited her attic were the only creatures awake in the whole kingdom. Her fingers had flown while her mind wandered, and after a while she would find herself falling into a trance
-
like state. She would begin the evening with an impossible number of tasks, and sometime before dawn she would blink and realize, to her amazement, that she had accomplished everything. Once she had given the mouse an accusing look and demanded to know if he had been helping her, but he had just scurried off, and moments later she’d felt unbelievably silly.

“
Ella, are you awake in there, or shall I fetch a bucket of cold water?” Millicent was being persistent.

“
Stepmother, I am sorry to report that I am dead. Fetch the undertaker.”

“
How about a nice cup of tea, instead? I’ll just run down and make you some and you can get dressed.”

Ella heard the sound of Millicent’s footsteps moving away, and thanked every divine being she’d ever heard of. She’d wake up when the tea got here. If it was anything like Millicent’s normal hideous brew it would be enough to bring a dead donkey back to life. When she tried to relax back into sleep, however, she was reminded of the other reason—aside from sleep deprivation—that she kept falling into private reveries.

Max. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him. His face, alight with amusement, or his eyes, filled with desire. She could probably draw his half
-
naked form from memory, or sculpt it out of marble, if she only knew how. This wasn’t the first time she’d dreamed of him, either. Sometimes they were back in her shop front, and
he
was measuring
her
. Sometimes they were dancing, as they had been tonight. And once, just once, they had been in the parlor, and Max had been down on one knee.

Beatrice had woken her up before the end of
that
one, and Ella had been disappointed, but also relieved. She didn’t really want to know how it ended.

She had turned over the actual facts in her mind a dozen times. Max was clearly a noble, but she had no idea if he was a first, second, or thirty-seventh son. His personal station in life might be compatible with hers, if she only thought of herself as a gentleman’s daughter, and not as a seamstress. So, she supposed, there was a small hope that, if they both wanted it, they could be together.

Despite her better judgement, Ella knew she wanted just that. It hardly seemed possible, having known him for such a short time, but Ella
did
want him. She just wasn’t sure she wanted him more than she wanted her small shop and her tiny business. Ella
liked
working this way, and unless Max was a very minor lordling, it could hardly be imagined that she could be his wife
and
work as a dressmaker—not and remain a part of respectable society. Of course, her shop wasn’t exactly making money hand over fist. If she chose to work, rather than marry a handsome, charming, witty, dashing… Ella’s mind went in circles. She could be walking away from her last chance at security, if she chose to keep her shop and not marry Max. But she could be giving up her chance to live out her dream if she chose marriage, even to a wonderful man, instead of sticking to her plan.

And, of course—Ella tried to keep the thought firmly in front her—Max hadn’t actually declared his intentions towards her at all. She could tell he was pursuing her, but to what end? Perhaps he wasn’t a minor son of a minor lord; perhaps he was someone important. If that were the case, he could never think of marrying her, and this could be nothing but a flirtation for him. Or, worse, he might be meaning to make her an offer, one in which he kept her somewhere in style and seclusion while he went on to live his life. Every time Ella thought of that her temper flared, but she kept it in check. After all, there was just so much she didn’t know about him, she could hardly make an accurate guess as to what he was thinking.

And that, she had decided, was the crux of the matter. She was going to have to find out who he really was, and what his true intentions were. And if they weren’t honorable she was going to have to send him away. For good.

Ella heard her door open.

“
I’ve got your tea, dear.” Millicent bustled in, and then stopped dead. “Eleanor Emberton! You are supposed to be up! That confounded costume in my room was
your
idea, and it is going to take at
least
two hours for me to get into it, not to mention my hair and face paint and… And your stepsisters! They haven’t the faintest idea how to wear those rigs, you’re going to have to help them, too.” Rambling on, Millicent helped Ella out of bed and practically shoved her over to the basin of water, where Ella splashed her face and rinsed out her mouth. “Imagine! It’s the day of the second palace ball, and
you
want to lie about in bed all day!”