Chapter 30

A day after Ella came back from Rovenheim, the family returned in a flourish. They arrived in a magnificent carriage drawn by white horses with a driver and a footman. Ella was busy sweeping the foyer when they all burst through the door and stopped short at the sight of her. Lucinda and Daniella were in front, gaping at her as though she were a stranger.

“What are you doing here?” Lucinda asked.

Lillian, her stepmother, shoved them out of the way.

“Why, Ella. You’ve returned,” she said, mustering surprise with a hint of loathing.

Livingstone, who was Lillian’s new husband, entered last carrying an oversized suitcase in each hand. He was a tall man with a thick head of hair and a mustache. The rest of his face was clean shaven. He had dark brown eyes under bushy brows. He wore an expensive suit as he stomped into the house.

“Why are we loitering in the foyer?” he growled.

Then he, like the others, stopped short as he noticed Ella for the first time and gaped. She shifted from one foot to the other.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“This is Ella. She was our housemaid before we married, my darling,” her stepmother said, waving at her. A sizeable emerald ring winked on her left hand.

“Ah, well. You said you were unable to find help. Perhaps it’s good she’s returned.” He dropped the suitcases. “Bring those up when you have a moment, won’t you?”

The girls giggled and charged up the stairs. Lillian followed, giving her a look of contempt as Mr. Livingstone followed her, his hand at the small of her back.

Ella wished then she hadn’t bothered to put the bedrooms back in order. She hadn’t washed the sheets and remade the beds. She hadn’t dusted the rugs and the drapes. Or polished the silver.

She gripped the broom handle so hard, her hand cramped. Then she spun on her heel and stomped back to the kitchen. She dropped the broom, put her face in her hands and forced back the hot tears.

She was nothing but a housemaid now. Not even a member of the family. Even when they were here before, she wasn’t a member of the family. Why would now, with their return, be any different?

Soon, they would be clamoring for food. She whisked away the tears, pulled herself together, and started cooking.

A few days went by. Ella lived as a ghost in her own home, pretending to be nothing more than the housemaid and the cook, as was their expectations. Livingstone barely acknowledged her presence. Lucinda and Daniella spent countless hours giving her hateful looks and saying snide things when no one else was around.

Ella was bone tired. Tired of the jeers. Tired of the work. Tired of it all. At night, when she was alone in her uncomfortable bed, she’d take out the vial that brought her home and looked for remnants of fairy dust that could take her back. There wasn’t any. Not even a spec. She drifted off to sleep with the throb of loneliness pressing through her. Even in her own home, she felt isolated.

The clock tower bonged it’s morning hour. Weary, she pushed off her thin blanket and placed her bare feet on the cold floor, a shiver going up her spine. She glanced at the wool gown and the cloak she still had from Rovenheim. A longing pounded through her. A longing to return. A longing to see Nicholas again.

She wore one of her older gowns instead of ruining all she had left from her adventure. Ingrid was right. It had been a grand adventure.

After dressing, she slipped on her shoes, tied back her hair, and headed down the stairs to the kitchen to begin breakfast for the family before they started ringing the bell demanding. As she prepared the morning tea, there was a knock on the back door. Odd that someone would knock on the back door instead of the front, she thought, as she pulled it open.

An elderly man stood outside wearing nothing but rags. He had a hunched back, an aged face that was a map of wrinkles, thin lips, and stump teeth.

“Oh, ’ello, m’lady,” he greeted. “Do ye have anything to give an old poor man like meself? I’m starvin’, ye see.”

Hesitation went through her. This had happened once before. Before when the box with the slippers appeared and changed her life. She peered at him, trying to see if she knew him, but she didn’t. Finally, she nodded.

“One moment.”

Back in the kitchen, she wrapped up a loaf of yesterday’s bread, some slices of cheese, and a couple of apples. She returned and handed it to him.

“Oh, thank ye, miss. Ye are a kind one to me.” He gave her a nod and started to turn.

“Why did you stop here?” she asked.

He turned back, giving her a slanted glance over his shoulder. “I heard talk in the market square there lived a kind young woman here. Thought I’d try me luck.” He gave her a grin full of stump, yellowed teeth.

She nodded. Gossip always abounded in the market, especially if Mrs. FitzGerald was involved.

“Where are you headed?” Ella asked.

“Back to the road, m’lady. To make my way south to warmer climes.” He gave her another nod of farewell. “Thank ye, again.”

“Safe travels, good sir,” she called as he headed across the yard.

As she shut the door, she thought no more about the old beggar that called.

The day went along as usual with her polishing the silver, scrubbing the floors and dusting. Snow still dusted the ground, which made the manor drafty and chilly. As she went to the back to bring in more firewood, she heard the unmistakable rumble of hooves and carriage wheels.

Curious, she walked to the side of the house and peered around the corner. She caught a glimpse of a red and gold coach led by eight white chargers. Her heart leapt into her throat as she gasped.

This was different than the one she saw that day in the market when Noella stepped out and they first met. It was larger, more ornate with gold carvings of snowflakes and stars around each door and window. Even the wheels were gold.

Her heart pounded a wicked beat as she hurried into the kitchen, dropped the firewood, and then dashed to the front door. She paused only a moment in the foyer as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Dirt smudged her face. Hair sprouted around her head making it look untidy. And her gown was dirty from all the cooking and cleaning she’d done.

Nothing to do about that, she thought.

As she turned toward the door, Lucinda pounded down the stairs. Daniella was right behind her.

“Maybe the prince called off his wedding!” Lucinda suggested.

“Maybe he’s coming to ask for my hand ,” Daniella said.

“Girls, your manners.” Lillian descended the stairs in regal fashion.

None of them noticed Ella standing at the edge of the foyer.

Lucinda was the first to reach the door. She yanked it open just as the man approached with his hand raised to knock.

The man that was the Crown Prince of Rovenheim. He hesitated as surprise washed over his face when he saw Lucinda there.

“Who are you?” she demanded, clearly not expecting a different prince.

He cleared his throat. “I’m here for Miss Ella Rose Tremaine.”

Her heart pounded a little harder. Her palms broke into a hot sweat.

“Ella?” Lillian scoffed as she said her name. “Whatever for? She’s nothing but a servant girl.”

By now, her stepmother reached the bottom of the stairs and moved to stand next to Lucinda, nudging Daniella out of the way.

“She’s more than a servant girl,” Nicholas said in the snootiest tone she’d ever heard. It made her smile.

Lillian looked him up and down, the disdain on her face. “And just who are you?”

“I am the Crown prince of Rovenheim and I’ve come for Ella.”

“A prince ,” Lucinda breathed. Then she dipped a curtsy. “Forgive my mother, your highness.”

His expression said he wasn’t interested in her forgiveness. “Where is Ella?”

He hadn’t noticed her standing there yet. Ella took in his broad-shouldered appearance. He was dressed in a navy-blue cutaway tailcoat with gold buttons trimmed in trailing gold stars and snowflakes with velvet cuffs and collar. He wore a gold silk cravat, brocade vest, white pants and perfectly polished black boots. His wavy chestnut hair was impeccably combed yet still touched his collar. His bright blue eyes held a certain warmth to them she had longed to see again. He was sigh-worthy and possibly the most distinguished and handsome man she’d ever seen.

Nicholas turned to wave at someone in the coach and, a moment later, Percy arrived by his side caring a velvet pillow with the glass slippers perched on top.

Ella sucked in a sharp breath as she realized what he meant to do.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

Nicholas saw her then. Their eyes met, his sparkling with delight, reflecting his genuine happiness at seeing her again. A surge of warmth spread through her body, filling her with an overwhelming sense of happiness. He was here standing in her house. He had come for her.

He shoved past Lucinda and Lillian, his steps sure-footed as he headed right for her. Percy fell in step behind him carrying the pillow with the slippers.

“What’s going on?” Daniella wailed, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Ella knew and hot tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them away, trying to maintain her composure. It was almost impossible when Nicholas dropped to one knee, taking her hand in his and holding it. His warmth cascaded through her, sending delicious tingles up her spine.

“Ella, you left something behind,” he said, the quirk of a grin on his lips.

“Did I?” As she said it, her breath caught in her throat.

He placed his hand behind her left knee, gently lifting her leg. Percy then stepped up and dropped down to remove her shoe.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lillian said, her angry tone lancing right through Ella. “I demand to know—”

“You demand nothing of me, woman,” Nicholas shot back.

Lucinda and Daniella both gasped in shock, their heads swiveling to look up at their mother. Lillian’s face was a mask of rage as she stood there, hands clasped to her side.

Meanwhile, Percy had removed her worn shoe and slipped on the glass slipper.

“A perfect fit,” Nicholas said, his voice quiet as he looked up at her.

He released her leg, giving her an expectant look. She understood and lifted her other foot so Percy could exchange the shoe for the glass slipper. Looking down at them, she still saw the hairline crack in the toe of the right one.

It didn’t matter, though. He was here and she had the slippers back.

He rose, taking both of her hands in his and squeezing them.

“Ella, will you return with me?” he asked.

She was nodding before he even finished the question. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Lillian moved to stand between them and the open door.

But Noella filled up that doorway with her hands on her hips. Her silver hair was twisted into elaborate curls on her head. A spring of holly perched over one ear. She had a fierce look on her face. A look that said not to mess with her or her son.

“She’s coming with us and you can’t stop her,” Noella said.

Lillian turned her face upward, looking down her nose at Noella with such scorn it made Ella’s skin crawl. “And who are you ?”

But Noella was not to be intimidated as she stood her ground, peering at each of them with her own brand of condescension.

“The Queen of Rovenheim. The Spirit of Christmas. The one who brings joy and light to all those who deserve it. None of you deserve it.” She waved her pointed finger to each of them. “Come, darlings, let’s leave this place.”

Nicholas held her hand tight in his and headed for the door. But Ella remembered something. Something she was unable to leave behind.

“Wait, please. I forgot something.”

She tugged her hand out of his grasp and was up the stairs before anyone stopped her. She flung open the door to her bedroom, spotted the small star atop the tree, and hurried toward it. She removed it, holding it a moment, and then placed it in the pocket of her gown. Then she snatched the woolen cloak from the peg by the door, flung it around her shoulders, and left. She didn’t even give her room a backward glance.

Back down the stairs, Lillian and her daughters blocked the end of the staircase. Ella halted halfway down. She glanced at Nicholas, her heart ramming hard as she paused there, trying to decide what to do. Fury still pinched Noella’s face.

“Move aside,” Noella said, a warning tone in her voice.

“She’s not leaving here. She’s…she’s part of the family,” Lillian said. Both her daughters gave her shocked looks of disbelief.

“I am not,” Ella said. “I’m nothing but the housemaid to you, remember? Now, move aside.”

Lillian gave her a hateful glance. “Or what?”

“Or this.”

With a wave of her hand, Noella knocked them all out of the way. They crashed together against the wall, sliding to the floor. Ella hurried down the remaining steps, falling into Nicholas’s waiting arms. He hugged her tight, taking her hand once again and walking toward the door.

But in the doorway, Ella paused, turning to look once more at her wretch of a stepmother. She pinned her with her gaze.

“Stepmother,” she said, slowly and quietly. “I forgive you.”

And then, she walked out of the house forever with Nicholas at her side and Noella and Percy behind them.

He held open the door to the coach for her. She climbed in, scooting to the other side of the velvet bench. When he, Noella, and Percy were inside, they took off down the street with the horse’s hooves pounding along the cobblestone. Nicholas clutched her hand in his, then kissed it.

“How did you find me?” Ella asked.

“My dear, do you think magic doesn’t work here?” Noella said with a smile.

“Earlier today there was an old beggar who came to your kitchen door,” Nicholas said. Then he nodded to Percy. “ He was the beggar.”

“Percy?” A laugh bubbled up her throat. “I gave you food!”

“And it was right kind of ye, miss,” he said in his beggar accent.

They all laughed.

“We visited the market and I talked with some of the people there. The grocer, Mr. Gibson, had quite a lot to say on your behalf, Ella,” Noella said.

“Yes, and a Mrs. FitzGerald,” Nicholas added.

Ella flushed wondering what the two of them said about her and her situation.

“Perhaps you two should be alone,” Noella said. “Percy, shall we?”

“Yes, madam.”

And then they were both gone in a puff of glittering fairy dust.

“She does that a lot,” Ella said with a giggle. Then she snuggled close to Nicholas.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. “Why didn’t you tell me about your stepmother and how she treated you?”

“I didn’t want you to pity me,” she said. “And I wasn’t sure you wanted me to stay.”

“I thought you were homesick and were desperate to leave,” he said.

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Then we were both wrong.”

He nodded. “We were. But I’m here now and I’m taking you away from that woman. What did you forget?”

She sat up straight, pulling the small star out of her pocket. She held it in her palm. “It was my mother’s. She always put it on top of the tree when I was a child. It reminded me of the Christmas Star in the village.”

He traced the lines of the star with a fingertip. “It will have its own unique place in the castle, then.”

Tears clouded her vision. She blinked them away as she tucked it back into her pocket.

He slipped his hand over her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “You left the slippers.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was going to tell you but never got the chance.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me,” he said.

“That could not be further from the truth,” she whispered. “I’m glad you came for me. I missed you. I missed everyone.”

“I missed you, too, Ella. And…” He paused, pressing his forehead against hers and cupping her face. “I love you.”

Her heart skipped a happy beat. “I love you, too.”

He kissed her. A sweet kiss that only lasted a moment. When she pulled away, she looked up into those beautiful blue eyes and smiled.

“Take me home to Rovenheim, Nicholas.”

He grinned. “As my lady commands.”