Chapter 4

T he day of the Christmas ball arrived. Ella had returned to the dressmaker’s shop in the market to pick up the three gowns for Lillian, Daniella, and Lucinda. As she helped them dress, she thought of the woman she met the day she went to the grocery. She wondered, not for the first time, who Noella Fairchild was and why she had offered to give her a gown for the ball.

Ella waited for them at the foot of the stairs. Lucinda descended first in a bright yellow gown trimmed with the ruffles around the scooped neckline and the full skirt. She flashed Ella a wicked smile. Daniella was right behind her wearing a turquoise gown in the same style with the same ruffle around the scooped neckline. Each of them had fur-lined cloaks to match their gowns. With their bright and flamboyant colors, Ella decided both of them would be quite out of place at an elegant Christmas ball.

Lillian was the next to descend the stairs, pulling on her black satin upper length gloves. At least she had the good sense to wear something in subdued colors as befitting a widow of her age and station. Her gown was a dark emerald green with a slim waist and a narrow skirt.

“We’re off to the ball,” her stepmother announced as the two girls exited the house. “While we’re gone, I expect the floors to be scrubbed, the draperies and tapestries cleaned, and the silver polished to a high shine. One of my girls will no doubt return with the prince’s favor.” She cackled as she left the house, slamming the door behind her, not even waiting for a response from Ella.

“Yes, Stepmother,” she whispered under her breath.

Tears blurred her eyes, her heart aching, as she sprinted up the stairs to the third floor. She flung herself on her narrow bed, burying her face into the pillow and weeping. She had so wanted to go. Regret swept through her. She should have accepted the mysterious woman’s offer of a gown. But then, how would she explain that to her stepmother?

She hadn’t been able to get the one hundred pounds for Mr. Gibson, either. When she went searching for the ledger book her father had once kept in the oak desk in the study, she couldn’t find it. All she found was an empty leather money purse. All of the household funds had been squandered on the new gowns.

When she finished crying, she sat back on the bed and stared at the curtains hanging at her grimy window. A pale slash of moonlight came through, leaving a blue-white glow on the wood flooring. She wiped her tears and walked to the window, pushing aside one of the panels and peering out at the lawn below. Snow fell, leaving a dusting on the ground below.

As she stared out the window, she thought she saw the flash of a shadowy shape through the front yard to her left. Her heart kicked into a wild beat. Was someone out there? Another shadowy shape then went through the yard back the way it had come. She sucked in a sharp breath.

What was that?

She spun from the window, looking for a weapon. All she came up with was a hairbrush. She snatched it off the bureau and crept to the door, her heart in her throat as she paused to listen. There was nothing but silence.

Her slippers were silent on the stairs as she made her way down. She paused at the front door, pressing an ear against it. She heard nothing.

A swift knock on the kitchen door startled her. She jumped, a breath of a gasp escaping as she stared into the shadows of the house wishing she had thought to light a few candles before she dashed upstairs to feel sorry for herself.

Her hands shaking, she made her way from the front door to the kitchen. Her breath hitched as she paused there to listen.

More silence.

In the kitchen, she traded the hairbrush for a broom and crept to the back door. Her hand paused at the knob, wondering if she should open it. Her heart was in her throat as she twisted the knob and then flung open the door. She shoved the broom handle in front of her as a weapon.

But there was no one there.

Snowflakes drifted from the night sky in a silent dance. She stepped in the threshold and leaned out, looking left and right. Nothing.

As she turned to go inside, something on the doorstep caught her eye. It was a small green box with a red ribbon wrapped around it and a giant red bow on top. She leaned the broom against the door jamb and knelt.

A nametag stuck out from under the ribbon. TO ELLA was written in big, perfect letters.

Her brows drew together as she stood once more, glancing around again. There were no footprints in the dusting of snow or the mud to indicate someone had been there to drop it off. She was certain she had heard the distinct knock on the back door, though.

She bent to pick up the box, then kicked the door closed with her heel as she placed it on the kitchen table. Before she opened it, she lit a candle to give her some light. Then she stared at it as if it were a foreign object.

Who sent it?

With a shaking hand, she tugged on the bow. The silken ribbon slipped away with ease and fell away. She pulled off the lid and set it aside. White tissue paper covered whatever was inside.

Her heart pounded hard as she pushed aside the tissue to reveal another note written in the same handwriting as the nametag. It read, PUT THESE ON.

She picked up the note, wondering who sent it and why. Below the note was the most dazzling pair of shoes she had ever seen. She picked up one of the shoes and realized with a gasp it was made of glass. The candlelight glinted off the surface, making a rainbow of prisms reflect on the old wood table.

“Glass slippers,” she whispered.

She glanced back down at the note telling her to put them on. Would they fit? How did this person who left them know they would fit?

There was only one way to find out.

She slipped her feet out of her worn shoes and placed both glass slippers on the floor in front of her. She stared down at them, her heart ramming hard in her chest from both anticipation and apprehension. Taking a deep breath, she slipped first one foot and then the other into the shoes.

They were magnificent. And despite being made of glass, the footbed was cushiony. She pulled back her tattered skirt and stared down at them. They were the most beautiful shoes she had ever worn. They had a rounded toe and a one-inch heel to make it easy for her to walk in them.

As she peered down at them, something began to happen. It was as though the room spun around her, starting off slow and then going faster and faster and faster. She pressed a hand against her head as a dizziness came upon her and she suddenly felt as though she might faint. She stumbled, trying to maintain her footing but she couldn’t.

Everything spun out of control. A cool breeze went through her hair as it lifted from her neck. Her tattered servant’s dress morphed and changed into something else. She didn’t quite understand what was happening or why.

Then the world came to a halt and she found herself standing outside the gates of the palace.

She took a step back, shocked and wondering how she ended up there when she didn’t take one step outside of the house.

As she looked down at her gown, she realized she was dressed in the most beautiful red ball gown. She swished the full skirt from side to side, watching as it sparkled in the half light. Roses the same color as the gown dotted the skirt and around the waist. The long sheer sleeves came to a point on her hands. The bodice was covered in sparkles and more roses. She stuck out a foot from under the miles of petticoats to see the glass slippers still on her feet. She patted her hair to find it was coiled on top of her head in the fashion of the day.

All of this was so strange. And wonderful.

“There you are!”

The exclamation made her jump. Noella Fairchild bustled from the shadows and took her by the arm, leading her through the gates of the palace.

“My dear, you are radiant.”

“I don’t understand. How—”

“Nothing to understand,” she said with an encouraging, infectious smile. “We must get you to the ball quickly.”

“But, madam—”

“You must call me Noella.” She flashed a grin.

Ella pulled her to a stop. “I don’t understand any of this. Who are you?”

“Why, I’m your fairy godmother, dear. Now come, come, come. You don’t want to miss another minute.” She took her by the arm and hurried toward the stairs at the palace entrance once again.

“My fairy godmother?”

“Yes, of course. Now, remember, you must remove the shoes before the last stroke of midnight,” she said.

“What happens then?”

“Why, the spell will be broken, of course. Ah, here we are!”

They arrived at the palace doors and halted.

“Here’s where I leave you, my dear.” She stepped back, her face winsome. “You’re positively stunning. You’re sure to turn the head of my s—er, the prince.” She shooed her toward the steps. “Go on!”

Ella hesitated a moment before beginning the ascent to the palace entrance. Then she turned back and hugged Noella.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The woman was so taken aback by the gesture, she didn’t immediately return the hug. When she did, it was warm and wonderful and reminded Ella of her mother who she had lost when she was a little girl. Noella patted her back, then gave her one last squeeze before releasing her and stepping back. She gave her an encouraging nod.

Taking a deep breath, Ella picked up her skirts and ascended the steps.