Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale (9 page)

With a smile,
the woman leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek, but there was no
passion in it.  When she backed away and her eyes again met his face, he was as
cold and stinging as the wind.

“I will leave
now, but I meant what I said about my cousin,” Beatrice said.  “She’s truly a
sweet girl.  If you are interested, let me know and we can arrange a meeting.”

He offered
only a small nod to her and she turned to go with tight lips. Christian shook
his head, looking down at his pathetic little cigarette.  It seemed it would
take more than this to get him through the night.  He flicked it away and took
slow steps back to the house.  He was in no rush to get back to the party. 

Back to the
massacre of my pride.

2

Christian
advanced back toward the house, but hearing a light rustling sound behind him,
he turned slowly to set his eyes upon a face.  The girl that had been creeping
along the garden path stared back at him with wide eyes and then forced a smile
across her lips.

“There you
are,” Isabella said. “I was looking for you. What are you doing out here?”

“Getting some
fresh
air,” he lied, still tasting the smoke on his lips.

The elegantly
dressed girl shrugged casually with a smile.  He stared back at her, the color
of her eyes revealing something to him that she wasn’t aware of.  Had she
overheard him talking to Beatrice - witnessed her proposition?  Christian
couldn't find it in himself to care.  It was only Isabella, after all.  If it
was torture for her to think of him being with another woman, then he would let
it be so.  He smiled.

“I’m not
letting you get away tonight without at least one dance,” she warned.

“Then let us
go now,” he said, suddenly in good spirits.

Without more
words, he grabbed her gloved hand and pulled her towards the house.  Turning quickly,
to Isabella’s surprise, he stepped right into dance as he twirled her grandly. 
Though Christian despised the traditional actions of social life, lessons from
his youth still stuck with him – dancing being one that he excelled at. 

“Aren’t you in
a good mood tonight,” she said, shocked.

“You expected
less?” he questioned. 

"Of
course I did," she answered, eyeing him suspiciously.  "Why would you
be?"

“So many
beautiful women, all here for me,” he went on.  “How could I possibly be upset
about that?”

He saw her
expression change - how she was trying to hide her jealousy.  He drank it in
like fine liquor.

“And here, the
loveliest one of them is in my arms now.”

Her anger
turned to a rosy blush spreading across her face. 

“If you really
thought that, why didn’t you come last night?” she asked quietly.

“I did,
actually,” he admitted, “but when I saw you sleeping so soundly, I couldn’t
bear to disturb you.”

Isabella
stared at him incredulously.  “Did you
really
come?” she asked,
disbelieving.

“Despite the
storm,” he assured her with an odd smile on his face.  She wasn’t sure of what
else to say.

“You know,” he
said, pulling her closer in dance.  “As much as I hate to admit it, you truly
are the most entertaining woman here, Isabella.”

“It took you
long enough to notice,” she said reproachfully.

“Can you feel
the weight of the wedding band on your finger already?” he asked.

She laughed
slightly like she had practiced. 

Christian took
a deep breath of the air, which was polluted with the smells of the women
around him.  They had all put on fine fragrances and washed their hair in
perfumes.  Only by approaching one could he distinguish the individual smells. 
Mixed together as they were, it was enough to give him a headache.

Closing his
eyes briefly to the music – hoping that everyone would be gone when he opened
them – a radiant, singular fragrance drifted past his nose.  In his nostrils,
he detected the fresh smell of roses in the air.  Opening his eyes, he peered
around.  It was not that the smell was strong, but it overrode the others until
it was the only thing he could sense.  He wanted to bury his head in it and
breathe deeply.

“Where is that
smell coming from?” he wondered absently.

“What?”
Isabella asked, catching the end of his words.

“Do you smell
roses?”

She gave a
short laugh. “Not specifically.”

He traced his
eyes over the crowd, searching for what wonderful creature had brought in this
scent.  Curiously, he saw people with turned heads, whispering to themselves.  A
few young men his age were making their way through the crowd in a specific
direction.  He was not the only one wife-hunting, but they all seemed to
congregate around a certain spot now.

Following the
seekers with his eyes, he scanned his way to a small gathering where a few men
were introducing themselves to a new addition to the party.  Her back turned,
Christian could see very long and shiny raven locks, curled and draped over a
pale white shoulder, revealing a slender neck and back.  Her dress was of the
reddest color he had ever seen – never had he seen such a rich red!  She
casually offered her slender hands, dressed in long black gloves, to the
gentlemen introducing themselves, though her actions seemed forced.  She was
reserved, hesitant and shy.

Who is
she…? 
There was no doubt in his mind that she was the one who carried the
smell of roses. 

“Is something
wrong, Christian?” asked Isabella, snapping him back. “You seem preoccupied.”

He shook his
head, not wanting to pry his eyes off the dark-haired girl, but doing so to
glance at Isabella briefly.

“It’s
nothing,” he promised, continuing their dance.

I have to
get close to her.

“Could I cut
in?” came a curt request from nearby, and they both looked up to see Charlotte
standing there, glaring at her sister.

“I don’t
believe he asked to dance with
you
,” Isabella said unhappily.

“This isn’t
fair,” Charlotte said, keeping her voice low. “You are hogging him!  Other
girls want a chance.”

“Why don’t you
go and tell the
other girls
that they’ll have to wait their turn?”
Isabella growled.

“Actually
ladies,” Christian cut in. “I think I’m going to take a break.  I’ll return
soon.”

Without waiting
for their approval, he stopped in the middle of the dance and walked off
towards the hallway.  The two sisters watched him go, dumbfounded at his
departure.   Isabella’s face twisted first, but Charlotte was the first one to
speak.

“Look what
you’ve done,” she scolded.

The sounds of
the sisters’ bickering carried on in Christian’s ears, but he comprehended none
of it.  He headed for the hallway in case they were watching, but slipped
behind one of the columns and walked back onto the floor, cutting through the
crowd to the far end where the mysterious woman had been. Would she still be
where he had seen her?

Working his
way through, his eyes finally fell back across her and her group of admirers.  He
could only see the woman from the back, but the others were still clamoring for
her attention.  She looked as though she needed to be saved.  To be surrounded
by people one cares nothing about can be quite an awful experience, he had
found.

Causing the
gentlemen to lift their eyes in defeat when they saw him coming, Christian
stopped directly behind the young woman without her notice.   

“Excuse me,
miss,” he addressed.

At the sound
of his voice, the girl turned and looked to him with large eyes. Her lips were
full and red, her cheeks lightly stained with natural color.  Her hazel eyes
looked on his with attention, and her skin was clean and pure.

She's
beautiful.  Do I know her?

Looking down
at her, a sudden feeling overrode his simple curiosity.  Familiarity swept over
him as he looked over the short smile that had come up on her lips.  Who was
this girl who looked at him so adoringly?  He had met so many women - all of
their faces had bled together. 

“I'm
sorry," he started, "but do I know you?”

“I don’t
know.  Perhaps we could
pretend
to know each other,” she said softly,
her red lips moving hypnotically.

Looking over
her, an image floated through his mind; a vision in dark clothes, dark eyes and
a blood-splattered apron.  Could it be?  She looked so different, but how could
he be so surprised.  It had been years.  It was only last night that he had
been in her house.  He had seen the room where they kept her.  All of those
stories of her moving away and marrying off were lies. 

Cindy.
 

The years had
been kind to this girl.  She was more beautiful than he remembered.  Christian
saw only her.  And that smell - so heady it made his head spin.

“We can
pretend," he confirmed, unable to hide his smile, "but you should at
least know my name.  Allow me to introduce myself.  I’m Christian Charming, and
I do believe that this is my party.  And you are?”

“Some call me
Cinderella,” she replied slyly.

“Then might I
ask you, Cinderella,” he said, his smile growing wider. “Do you dance?”

She looked to
him with curious eyes for a moment, admiring his form dressed in black
splendor.  He admired her shoulders briefly in return.

“
Do
I
dance, or
would
I like to?” she asked.

“Forgive me,”
he said, being quite sportsmanlike. “
Would you
like to dance?”

He watched her
examine him and suddenly found himself wondering if he had lived up to what she
had expected of him after all these years – or if she had thought about him
much at all.

“I'm not very
good,” she warned him finally.  "I haven't been given much occasion to
dance in the past years."

“It would
still be an honor,” he said, holding out his hand.  She accepted, and he led
her out onto the floor.

He rested his
hand against her waist and felt his heart speed.  Could he have possibly been
nervous?  It was unlike him.  Moving carefully, he began to lead her.

For a while,
they danced, with all eyes on them and yet their eyes were only on each other. 
Other couples danced around them, but they went unseen.  Christian was unaware
of what his feet were doing, mesmerized by her eyes and her smell that seemed
concentrated only around him.

“I was hoping
you’d come but I didn’t expect you to,” he said finally, looking intently into
her eyes.

“It was a last
minute decision,” she said honestly.

“I’m glad
you’re here," he said sincerely.  "I've been thinking about you quite
often of late."

"Have
you?"

"Yes." 
Christian felt a strange ache in his heart as he watched her.  Where had she
been?  What had they put her through since her father had passed?

Don't think
about that now.

"You
smell amazing,” he said instead. 

He put his cheek
against hers, his mouth near her ear as he breathed her in.  She sighed,
feeling the warmth of his closeness. 

“I want to
talk,” he whispered to her.

“Is it safe to
talk here?" she asked.  "Everyone is watching us.”

“I’ve arranged
for a distraction,” he said to her.  There was a smile in his voice.  “All I
have to do is trigger it.”

“Then what?”

“We slip
away.”

He could sense
that she was curious.  Her red lips were smiling a bit. 

“What kind of
distraction?”

“Don’t you
want to be surprised?”

His voice was
mischievous, and she kept silent after that.  As they danced, Christian worked
to turn them a bit so that they were facing west.  He looked across the room
and she followed his eyes, and there his secret was revealed without words. 
There was a table set up across the way where a decorative arrangement was
erected, holding silver trays and greenery.  It certainly looked precarious,
though beautiful, and he knew that the girl shared his thought.  If that piece
fell, the party would be interrupted for a short time.  It would be a public
disaster and his mother would be furious – everything Christian could want.

It's time
for this
, he thought. 
The perfect time.

Christian met
the eyes of the man he had bribed to do the job.  He gave a short nod, and the
man acknowledged him.  He set himself into motion. 

Moving out
from the wall, the man walked near the table, edging up next to some others who
were in his way.  He asked them politely to step out of his path – and then it
happened.  He pretended to trip over their feet as he moved past.  The man gave
a rather undignified yelp as he tripped forward, crashing into the table and
the teetering arrangement atop it.  The whole thing toppled over in the midst
of everyone, summoning several shrieks as the silver trays crashed and bits of
greenery splattered on shoes and gowns.  Christian’s mother looked mortified,
and the servants rushed in to clean it up, but everyone in the room turned that
way, and for the first time – and possibly the last for tonight – Christian and
the girl he danced with were not the center of attention.  

“Well, there
it was,” he said with satisfaction.  “My bit of fun for the night.  Shall we?”

He offered his
arm to her like a proper gentleman and she slid her slender arm through his.  It
was pointless to hope that no one would notice them as they waded through the
crowd, but most of them were properly distracted by now.  He led her outside to
the courtyard and into the shadows.

3

The night was
cool and dark, with the only light shining down from the moon and a few lamps
that flickered in the courtyard.  Christian held onto Cindy’s hand on his arm
as if she would try to escape, and he led her leisurely back to a spot behind a
row of hedges where they would not be seen.  There was a long bench here and he
motioned for her to sit, which he did promptly after her.  Christian reached
into his coat pocket.