“I’m afraid not, though the baron sounds intriguing.” Ayleth waggled her brows and took a seat opposite. “Now tell me everything.”
Haltingly, Eloise recounted her stepmother’s plans, shuddering when she described the brutish Mr. Festerly. “I thought of trying to get word to Destrian, but I would never be granted entry into the palace. From what I have heard, security is always very tight. Plus, I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“Trouble?”
At Ayleth’s raised brow, Eloise resigned herself to telling her friend the whole story of what had gone on between her and Destrian in the cabin and her concerns about word reaching Princess Seraphina.
“It’s been ten days, and I have heard nothing from Destrian. I am sure he’s thoroughly smitten by his beautiful princess and has forgotten all about me . . .”
“Not entirely, I hope.” Ayleth sighed. “Let’s pray he is a man of his word.”
Eloise stared at her clasped hands. “What difference does it make? I have no way to gain entrance to the palace and no idea how I would find Destrian if I did.”
“I know a way,” Ayleth said, and Eloise’s head shot up. “Your stepmother can’t resist gloating, and she made sure to show me her invitation to the ball when she came to commission new gowns.”
It sounded like something Gloria would do, as she always revelled in the chance to make herself seem superior.
“So?” Eloise shrugged, not seeing how it affected her.
“Your stepmother and the dreadful Mr. Festerly have the right of it, Eloise.” Ayleth’s smile was slow with a hint of devilment. “The only reason she finagled an invitation from the palace is because she is your father’s widow, an invitation that expressly mentioned she should bring all three of her daughters.”
Chapter 9
Eloise stared in disbelief. “All three of her daughters? I was included in the invitation to the palace ball?”
“By name.” Ayleth gave a knowing nod.
“That evil . . .” Eloise’s hands clenched as she imagined wrapping them around Gloria’s neck. Then she sighed. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. It is no less than I would expect of my stepmother, as it is not as if she’s ever viewed me as a daughter . . . just a means to an end. What my father saw in her I shall never know.”
Ayleth shrugged. “People like her are good at pouring on the charm, of being what you want them to be, until you’re well and truly ensnared. Only then do they let their true colours show.”
The bitterness in her friend’s tone was unmistakeable, and Eloise reached across the little kitchen table to give her hand a squeeze. She had a feeling Ayleth was close to revealing her own tale, one she suspected would be far from pleasant.
“I had held a faint hope that my father’s good name would be restored with King Cedric’s return, but I should have known Gloria would use it to her advantage, not mine. She didn’t waste any time finding a way to exploit the connection.” Eloise’s shoulders slumped. “I have already been ‘sold to the highest bidder’, so there’s no profit to be made from having me accompany her and the girls to the ball.”
“Then we sneak you in.” Ayleth’s smile contained more than a hint of malice. “Your name will be on the list. We’ll just have to bribe whatever fancy fellow does the announcing to let you slip by. You can be a ‘mystery’ guest, and once inside, you can find your charming, but forgetful, prince and ask for his help.”
Eloise winced. “That’s a nice idea, but I wouldn’t put it passed Gloria to make a scene. She could have me arrested.”
“She has to recognise you first.”
“Recognise me?” Eloise raised a brow before groaning and smacking her forehead with her hand. “That’s right. I’ll need a gown, and there’s only four days until the ball. Even if I can come up with something at this late notice, I don’t think it will be enough of a disguise.”
“You let me worry about the disguise, and as for the gown . . .” Ayleth stood and crooked her finger. Eloise followed, hope rising along with a surge of guilt.
“I have no way to pay you, Ayleth.”
“Oh, pfft.” The seamstress waved a hand then knelt to unlock a wooden chest in the adjoining workroom. “You are my dearest friend, and besides, I think I subconsciously made this gown with you in mind. I could have sold it a dozen times over, but I couldn’t bring myself to part with it.”
Ayleth stood and spread the bundle in her arms out on her work table, smoothing the rich fabric with her hands.
“Oh, Ayleth. It is beautiful!” Eloise caressed the dress with a reverent touch. A deep ruby red, the long gown was embellished with gold embroidery, the trailing sleeves made of a shimmering gold chiffon. The off-the-shoulder design incorporated a tightly corseted waist and bodice that Eloise imagined would reveal a daringly low décolletage. “I couldn’t possibly—”
“You could, and you will.” Ayleth’s tone brooked no nonsense. “With your creamy complexion and lovely dark hair, you will look divine.”
“I don’t know about that.” Eloise ducked her head, trying not to think what Destrian’s impression of her would be . . . or feel hurt that he had made no effort to contact her. Hopefully, it wasn’t intentional. He had said it would take time to see what could be done on her behalf, and he was sure to have been busy.
Shying away from the thought of Destrian wooing Princess Seraphina, Eloise focussed on finding a way to avoid having to marry Mr Festerly, a fate as horrifying as any she had feared.
“You mentioned a disguise?” She met Ayleth’s gaze. “What are you thinking?”
“Those were my exact words when your stepsisters informed me they had designed head wear to go with their gowns.” Ayleth shuddered.
“Head wear?” Eloise frowned. “It’s not a costume ball, is it?”
“No, but your stepsisters’ creations look like they could be worn in a travelling circus. One thing neither they nor their mother can be accused of is practising restraint!”
Eloise groaned. “The gaudier the better. Every time there’s some tacky new addition to the parlour or their bed chambers, I have to avert my eyes. Gloria thinks I am being submissive, but it’s either that or start smashing things.”
Ayleth grinned. “Well, there’ll be no need to do either this time, as your stepmother and sisters’ lack of taste is going to work to our advantage. I’ve a flurry of ladies due to pick up their gowns in the next few days—did I mention I have taken on an assistant? Her name is Angela, and she is an absolute doll. She is most creative, as well as being quite the charmer. The customers are very taken with her. I was hesitant to employ another seamstress, but the shop is so busy I can’t possibly keep up.”
“I’m glad you’re doing so well.” Eloise’s smile was tentative, as she wasn’t sure how this news fit in with her own situation.
“We’re both going to do well,” Ayleth said firmly before giving a shake of her head. “But first we have to get you out of the clutches of your horrid stepmother before she can hand you over to the even worse clutches of Mr Festerly.” Standing, she crossed to a row of shelves and brought a box over to the table. “Which will require me, with Angela’s help, to convince the ladies picking up their gowns that they simply must have the latest fashion accessory.”
Opening the box with a flourish, Ayleth lifted a diamante encrusted hair clip into the air.
“That’s pretty,” Eloise said, taking the piece from Ayleth and turning it over in her hands. “Did you make it?”
“No, Angela did. It’s how she came to my attention. She was going to sell them for tuppence in the markets until I convinced her I could get her ten times as much, and pay her a proper wage, if she came and worked for me.” Rummaging in the box, Ayleth withdrew a selection of colourful head pieces before finding what she was after. “Voila!” she announced, passing the feathered creation to Eloise.
“A mask?”
“Yes. I shall make sure you’re not the only lady wearing one, so it won’t seem too odd.
”
Eloise giggled before her expression sobered. “Are you sure about this, Ayleth? We’re talking about influencing the attire worn by guests to a palace ball. What if the ladies you convince to wear all these fripperies are embarrassed to be set apart? Your reputation and business could suffer.”
“Oh, Eloise, you really don’t understand fashion.” Ayleth smirked. “By the time Angela and I have finished, our customers will be so convinced of the superiority of their choices, they will spend the night looking down their noses in disdain at those poor souls who weren’t astute enough to follow the trend. I shall be inundated the morning after the ball, you just wait and see.”
“As long as you’re certain,” Eloise said, holding the elegant eye mask up to her face.
“Very.” Ayleth nodded decisively. “I’ll have Angela make a mask to match your gown, which takes care of both your attire and disguise. Now to work out a way to free you from your basement prison after that wicked stepmother of yours has locked you in for the night, as I am assuming she will have the key on her person.”
“Mrs Hahn, the housekeeper, has a copy.” Eloise shrugged, knowing it wouldn’t do her any good. “She has to let me out in the morning, so I can attend to my chores . . . hours before Gloria rises. But she would never do anything to risk her position, nor would I feel right asking it of her.”
“Hmmm . . .” Ayleth drummed her fingers on the table. “There is also the matter of transportation, as you can’t very well hike up to the palace after dark wearing a trailing gown. Quite aside from being impractical, it wouldn’t be at all safe.”
“Then it’s hopeless.” Eloise sighed. She would have to run away and pray she wasn’t caught by the watchmen her stepmother was sure to send after her . . . or captured by even worse evildoers than her legitimate guardian and prospective spouse.
“I wouldn’t say hopeless.” Ayleth’s smile turned devious, and a shiver ran down Eloise’s spine. “What you need is a little faith, while I need to conjure up some magic.”
Eloise lay huddled in the dark, feigning sleep. Her few possessions were packed and waiting in a bag that sat on the ground by her cot. Whatever happened this night, she would not be returning to the home she had once shared with her Papa, not by choice.
The last four days had passed with agonising slowness, Eloise’s nerves stretched to the breaking point. It had taken all her hard-won reserves of patience not to snap at Millicent and Winifred while they had run her ragged in preparation for their ‘night of triumph.’ She had done her best to style their hair elegantly and had to admit the gowns Ayleth had made them were beautiful, if a little overdone for her taste. But she had been hard-pressed to keep a straight face when they had donned the elaborate head pieces they’d designed themselves. With enough starched bows, feathers, and ruffles between them to decorate a Harvest Day stall, Eloise thought her stepsisters looked ridiculous, but she had kept her opinion to herself.
A black eye or swollen cheek could be hidden by the half-mask she would be wearing. But if she got the chance to speak with Destrian privately, she would rather his last memory of her not be one where she looked beaten and bruised. Not that his opinion of her was of any great consequence, but she wanted to hold onto what little of her pride remained.
At the sound of something scraping against the high, barred window, Eloise sat up with a start.
“Ayleth, is that you?” she whispered.
“Yes. Just give us a minute,” she heard muttered in return.
Eloise took the time to smooth the tangles from her hair. It had taken all her courage, and no little acting skill, to ask Gloria if she could please take that bath she had promised her in preparation for Mr Festerly’s imminent arrival.
“A bride should look presentable on her wedding day,” she had said, struggling to hide her revulsion at the thought of being married to such a man.
“So, you’re planning to make the best of it, are you?” Gloria had seemed disappointed Eloise was meekly accepting her fate. “Good luck with that,” her stepmother had added with a sneer.
Eloise hadn’t cared, grateful to receive the concession. She’d had no time to luxuriate in the tepid bath she had been allowed, but it was still a joy to be completely clean—hand washes with a small cloth dipped in basin of water never quite the same. The last time she could recall her hair feeling and smelling so lovely was when it had been rain washed in the forest, and that was nearly three weeks prior. Three weeks with not a word from Destrian.
Eloise’s stomach clenched at the thought of seeing him again, the sweet sensations her attraction to him had stirred within her replaced by anxiety. What if he denied knowing her? What if he refused to help? He had seemed so kind, so caring, but then he had ridden off and forgotten all about her.
A metallic screeching sound was followed by a muffled curse, and Eloise leaped to her feet.
“Hush!” she whispered urgently. “If Mrs Hahn comes to check on me, that will be the end of it.”
The grate covering the window rattled back and forward then moved away altogether, leaving a dark, gaping hole up near the ceiling of the sunken room. Then Ayleth’s smiling face peered in.
“You don’t need to worry about the servants. They’re having a party in the kitchen, one that will leave them all sleeping very soundly in short order . . . if they’re not already. Now, watch out,” she added, and threw a rope ladder down that unfurled against the stone wall.
Eloise secured her bag over her shoulder and began to climb.
“What have you done to the servants?” she asked as she neared the top.
“Nothing to harm them permanently, though there might be a few sore heads amongst them come morning,” Ayleth said, catching hold of Eloise’s arms and hauling her through the opening. “I sent them a complimentary bottle of wine, a gift from your stepmother for their diligent service, laced with a powerful sleeping draft.”
“They’ll never believe it was from Gloria,” Eloise said between panted breaths, as she tumbled into her friend’s arms. “And Gloria will know it was a set up to cover my escape.”
“So?” Ayleth shrugged. “The servants are happily drinking, or they were before things went quiet, and every last one of them will be able to say, in all honesty, that they had nothing to do with your escape. Oh, this is Ben, by the way,” Ayleth added when Eloise startled at the sight of a young man crouched beside them.
“Pleased to meet ye, miss.” He doffed his cap then set about replacing the heavy grate across the window. “I’m a friend of Angela’s, and I’ll be driving ye up to the palace. But I’ll ‘ave to bring ye back to the village come midnight, so I can return in time to collect some paying customers.”
“Which means we only have a few hours.” Ayleth stood and urged Eloise to her feet. “So that’s enough chit chat, as we’ve got to get you ready for the ball.”
∞ ∞ ∞
“Oh, Ayleth,” Eloise breathed her friend’s name on a sigh while staring at her reflection in the dress shop’s full-length mirror. “I hardly need the mask, though you have done a beautiful job,” she addressed Angela, a sweet, dark eyed girl who blushed at the praise, before turning back to her friend. “I am unrecognisable. You are a miracle worker. I never would have imagined I could look so . . . so . . .”
“Stunningly beautiful?” Ayleth supplied with a smug smile. “I knew all along, but I’d hardly call it a miracle when one has such excellent raw material with which to work.”
Eloise returned Ayleth’s smile in the mirror, though her gaze kept returning to the undeniably lovely young lady taking up the space where her frazzled form had stood not twenty minutes earlier. She had worried how to arrange her hair without the benefit of hours spent curling it first, but Ayleth had fashioned a few tiny braids near her brow to add some texture while sweeping the rest into an elegant twist. It was a far cry from the current complicated fashions, but the simple design suited Eloise, the fine, gold chain pinned amongst the braids complimenting her gow
n.
“Now for the piece de resistance.” Ayleth held the bronze and gold mask up to Eloise’s face and pinned it in place. “There!” She spread her arms, as if presenting Eloise to the room. “Magnificent, if I do say so myself. That stepmother of yours won’t have a clue who you are, though I can guarantee she—along with all the other matchmaking mamas—will be fuming when the attention is diverted away from their drab little darlings. As to your Prince Destrian, once he has stopped drooling and has rolled his tongue back into his mouth, he will be grovelling on bended knee, begging your forgiveness for his unpardonable neglect.”
Heat rushed to Eloise’s cheeks, and she was glad they were at least partially hidden by the mask. “My purpose isn’t to try and impress him, Ayleth. To what end? Tonight, his betrothal is to be announced. I just need him to do what he said he would do and help me.”
“I know.” Ayleth flapped her hands in front of her face as if warding off tears. “Take no notice of my silliness. Despite everything I have learned to the contrary, there is still a part of me that holds onto the most ridiculous notions of romantic fantasy. Mind you…” She eyed Eloise pointedly. “There is something to be said for presentation when it comes to securing the assistance of a knight—or prince—in shining armour. I imagine some might hesitate to rush to the aid of a plain woman, but one as lovely as you are guaranteed a hearing.”
Squaring her shoulders, Eloise faced her reflection. Unless Destrian had been merely acting a part, his character altogether different to the way he had portrayed himself during their time alone in the forest, a hearing was hopefully all she needed.
Chapter 10
Destrian rocked on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back. Doing his best to keep his expression impassive, he gazed out over the colourful, chattering crowd. They reminded him of a flock of exotic birds . . . peacocks maybe—there were enough of their plumage on display—or parrots. He couldn’t decide, all he knew was he had already had his fill of the incessant noise and endless pandering, and the evening was still young. The musicians began warming up, signalling the dancing would soon begin. What joy.
Return of the Prince_Medieval Romance Page 9