A Perfect Fit: (Cinderella) (Tangled Tales Series Book 6)

by Elizabeth Rose

  “It doesn’t fit,” announced Troy.

  “It does too,” said Greta, jamming her foot into the slipper. Her heel stuck out the back.

  “Next lady, please,” said William.

  “There is only one lady left,” his squire told him. “It is Lady Beatrice.”

  “That should prove it is my shoe. Therefore, there is no need for me to try it on,” said Beatrice with a smug smile toward her sister.

  “Sit down,” said William, wanting to get this over with. If the shoe fit Beatrice, he swore he would kill himself.

  Thankfully, the shoe didn’t fit her either.

  “Thank you all for coming, and you can leave now,” said William, standing up and addressing the crowd.

  “Try my daughter Greta’s foot again,” said Lady Trevane, coming right up to him. “I’m sure it’ll fit this time. Her foot just needed time to rest.”

  “I need a rest from you,” he told her. “Guards, escort Lady Trevane and her daughters to their carriage.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said a guard coming to the front.

  William’s eye caught a woman standing in the shadows at the back of the room. “Is there someone else back there who hasn’t tried on the shoe yet?” he called out.

  “Yes,” said the lady, stepping out into the light. “I would like to try it, Sir William.”

  “She’s just a servant,” said Lady Trevane. “Cinderella, get back in the carriage at once.”

  “Cinderella?” he asked. The girl’s name sent a wave of heat through him.

  “That is my name, Sir William,” the girl answered with a curtsey.

  “Cinderella,” he repeated, already infatuated with her. “Come forward,” he said. Her name was beautiful. He had never heard it before in his life. It matched the beauty of the girl as she approached the front.

  “Sir William, I told you she is just a servant. She’s no one of importance,” whined Lady Trevane.

  “Stepmother, why would you say that about me?” asked the girl named Cinderella.

  “This is your stepdaughter?” asked William in surprise.

  “Well, yes,” admitted the woman. “But she is a mere servant at the manor. You should marry my daughter, Greta, or perhaps my daughter, Beatrice, instead.”

  “Lady Trevane, you are a noble, are you not?” asked William.

  “You know I am, Sir William.”

  “And your husband is a baron?”

  “He is.”

  “Then Cinderella is a lady. She is a noblewoman, and yet it sounds as if you treat her like a servant. Why is she wearing the clothes of a peasant when she should be wearing fine silk and pearls?”

  “I – I don’t know,” said Lady Trevane, doing her best to blend back into the crowd. William walked forward and extended his arm to Cinderella.

  “My lady. If you’ll let me escort you to the chair.” William felt it in his heart that this was the lady who owned the slipper. She was the one he would marry.

  Cinderella settled herself on the chair. Instead of letting his squire do it, William took the glass slipper and got down on one knee to put it on her foot himself.

  He felt mesmerized by Lady Cinderella. There was no doubt in his mind he had found his love, even if he couldn’t remember her.

  Taking her foot gently in one hand, he guided it into the glass shoe, smiling from ear to ear. But his smile turned to a frown very quickly.

  “What’s the matter, Sir William?” asked Troy.

  “I don’t understand it, Squire. I was so certain Cinderella was the one. I am afraid that the glass slipper does not fit her either!”

  Chapter 18

  “What?” Cinderella was sure she heard William wrong. How could the glass slipper not fit her? The shoe belonged to her. When she looked down to her foot in his hand, her mouth fell open. Her foot was too big for the shoe that seemed to have shrunk in size.

  “That is my shoe, Sir William, I tell you the truth.” Panic filled her. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “Then why doesn’t it fit?” called out Lady Trevane.

  “I – I don’t know,” she said. “It should fit. I lost it.”

  “It’s not yours, now get off the chair, Cinderella,” said Greta.

  Her eyes darted up to William’s. He had to believe her. “I was with you in your solar the night of the ball. Don’t you remember?” she asked him frantically.

  A look of disappointment crossed his face. He shook his head. “I am sorry, my lady, but I do not.”

  “It’s my shoe. After all, it didn’t fit anyone else, did it?”

  “Nay, it didn’t.”

  “That is because I haven’t tried it yet, my lord,” came a woman’s voice from the crowd.

  Cinderella looked up to see the crowd part and Medea emerged. Her face paint was thick today and her hair was piled high upon her head. She wore an ugly, dark green gown and had pearls around her neck.

  “Medea,” Ella said under her breath. Medea sniggered.

  “Who might you be?” asked William, standing to greet her.

  “I am Lady Medea of Tanglewood Castle.” She held out her hand. In a chivalric manner, William bent over and kissed it. If William and his brother and squire didn’t know Medea, that told Ella there was dark magic at work to make them forget her. She also guessed Medea had something to do with changing the size of the shoe.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Cinderella, but you’ll have to move so Lady Medea can take a seat,” the squire told her.

  “William,” she whispered. “Think hard, and you’ll remember. We made love in your chamber. Please tell me you didn’t forget that? You call me Ella. Don’t you remember?”

  William’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I don’t. Now, if you’ll please let Lady Medea sit, I will try the shoe on her.”

  “Fine,” she said, standing up. “Go ahead and try, but it won’t fit her because it isn’t hers.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Medea.

  William bent down and slipped the shoe on to Medea’s foot. To Ella’s surprise and horror, the shoe fit perfectly. Medea had somehow altered the shoe to make it fit her foot.

  “It fits,” said William.

  “That’s right.” Medea held out her foot so everyone could see. “Now I will be your bride, Sir William.”

  “Nay!” shouted Ella. “I can prove the shoe is mine because I have the other one right here in my pouch.” She pulled the other glass slipper out of her pouch and held it high in the air. The crowd gasped and talked in hushed whispers.

  “Can I see that?” asked William.

  “Of course,” said Ella.

  “Squire, please bring me the shoe.” William sat back down in his chair, whispering something to his brother.

  “Aye, my lord,” Troy answered.

  Troy collected the shoe from her, but on his way to show it to William, Medea stuck out her foot and tripped him. Troy lurched forward, dropping the shoe and falling. The slipper shattered on the ground right next to him.

  “My, what a clumsy squire,” said Medea with a chuckle.

  Ella stormed over to Medea while William discussed something with his brother.

  “Medea,” Ella whispered. “I don’t know what you are up to, but stop it. I am in love with William, and you need to find your own man.”

  “On the contrary,” said Medea. “My mother made a deal with Lord Lucio.”

  “What?” she spat. Leaning over, she continued to speak in a whisper. “Don’t even think I am going to believe for one minute that Lucio, my own father, would do such a thing.”

  “Lucio wanted Hecuba to promise his daughter would marry William, and now I am.”

  “You? I am sure Lucio meant me.”

  “Are you now?” asked Medea with a giggle. “After all, you can’t remember your past.”

  “You are the one who told me Lucio is my father. Our father.”

  “Oh, about that. I was just having fun.”

  Ella stoo
d up, not knowing what to say. She didn’t know anything for sure. If Medea made it all up, perhaps she was nothing more than the stepdaughter of Lady Trevane after all. And if so, the memories she thought she had of her and William could be a mistake, too.

  Her mind clouded and she couldn’t think straight. A horrible heat encompassed her. How could this have happened?

  William stood up and raised his hand in the air to get everyone’s attention. “I would like to announce that I have found my new wife – Lady Medea. We will be married first thing in the morning.”

  That is all Ella remembered before her world went black and she fell to the ground.

  Chapter 19

  “It just doesn’t feel right,” said William, dressing for his wedding the next day.

  “What doesn’t?” asked Terris from the other side of the room. “The fact you are finally getting married? It’s about time, Brother, since you are twenty-six years of age. You should have a wife and heirs by now.”

  “You are right behind me in age, Brother. Mayhap you should marry Lady Medea instead of me.”

  “Nay, she is not my type,” said Terris.

  “I would have thought any woman was your type.”

  “Usually, yes, but something about her repels me.”

  “Your weapon belt, my lord.” Troy held out the belt, and William put it around his waist. “I wonder if we should wait until Lord Lucio returns before I marry anyone.”

  “What for?” asked his squire. “The shoe fit Lady Medea, didn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he said, still wondering about the girl named Cinderella. “Still, I get the feeling something isn’t right. Do either of you know anything at all about Lady Medea?”

  “Nay,” they both answered.

  “I have never heard of Tanglewood Castle before,” added William.

  “Perhaps her castle is not in England,” suggested Troy.

  “I am sure there is naught to worry about,” said Terris. “You are getting cold feet, William. Let’s get you down to the great hall, or you are going to miss your own wedding.”

  William was about to go but remembered he didn’t have a ring. “Squire, did you find a ring for me to use?” he asked.

  “On such short notice, it was nearly impossible,” said Troy. “However, I ran across this on the bottom of your trunk. It was under the lining. I thought you could use it. I put it in this wooden box for safe keeping.” He handed William the carved wooden box with the butterfly on it. William popped open the lid. His eyes fastened to the silver band.

  He picked it up, inspecting it, feeling a surge of overwhelming emotion shoot through him. He didn’t understand it, but it was as if the ring were trying to tell him something.”

  “Oh, you don’t like it,” said Troy. “I suppose I should have asked you about it earlier.”

  “Nay,” said William turning the ring first one way and then another, trying to figure out where he’d seen it before. It seemed so familiar. “It is just . . . plain, that’s all. I figure a lady should have a much more elaborate ring.” He replaced the ring and snapped the box closed and shoved it into his pocket. “Well, I suppose it is time for me to get married.”

  Ella awoke the next morning on her torn pallet in the tower room of Inglewood Manor. Medea stood over her, looking down and smiling.

  “What happened?” Ella sat up and held her aching head.

  “Sorry about that. I had to put a little sleeping spell on you so you wouldn’t ruin things between William and me.” Medea looked very amused. Ella remembered everything about yesterday now.

  “I don’t like your games, Medea. You are not going to marry William. He is in love with me, and you know it.” She tried to get off the bed but, with a flick of Medea’s wrist, Ella fell backward.

  “Stay here, Ella. I don’t want you anywhere near William. I can’t take the chance you will ruin my wedding.”

  “Your wedding? You aren’t going to go through with this, are you?”

  “Why not? I have never been married before. I think I’ll try it for a while.”

  “A while?” She stood up. “Medea, marriage is not a game you play and then move on to someone or something else when you are bored. It is forever.”

  “What do you know about it? You’ve never been married.”

  “I know I love William and he loves me. He doesn’t care for you at all.”

  “I’ll use magic to make him love me,” said Medea, her eyes turning very dark.

  “It won’t be real. Do you want to marry a man who is in love with someone else?”

  “He will love me. I’ll make sure she does.”

  “I’m going to tell William everything about us that I remember, and then he can make his choice.” She started to dress in her old, worn gown.

  “Why would he choose you?” asked Medea. “Just look at you wearing dirty, old clothes and with soot on your face.”

  “Someone once told me what matters is how beautiful a person is inside. William won’t mind the way I look. It’s what’s inside that matters.”

  “You are not going to tell him anything. I will make sure you don’t ruin my wedding.”

  There was the sound of a key turning in a lock. Ella’s head snapped upward. The door was closed, but no one was there.

  “What did you do, Medea?”

  “I just locked you in the room, using my magic. I also made sure no one will hear you. Therefore, you will stay put while I go marry the man you love.” She laughed again and dissipated into thin air.

  “Nay! Come back, Medea.” Ella ran to the door and yanked at the latch but, of course, it would not open. Then she hurried to the window and waved her arms, calling to the people in the courtyard. No one seemed to hear her, just like Medea said.

  “This can’t be happening.” Ella sank atop a chair and buried her hands in her face and cried. How was she ever going to get to William in time and stop him from marrying Medea?

  Chapter 20

  William walked down the aisle of the chapel, seeing Lady Medea standing up at the altar with the priest. The chapel was crowded with nobles as well as servants. His squire followed behind him while Terris waited up front.

  This was his wedding day, so why did he feel so gloomy? It was almost as if he were walking to the gallows. A shiver coursed through him. His head ached since he had tried so hard to remember Medea, but couldn’t. The girl named Ella said she had been the one who spent the night with him. If she were the woman from the ball, then why did the shoe fit Medea and not her? He felt perplexed.

  The music stopped as he got to the dais, causing his gut to twist since the time was here. Medea was dressed in a black gown and had a massive amount of face paint outlining her eyes and coloring her lips. He never thought he’d be marrying a girl who looked like this. Yes, she was comely, but something inside her wasn’t pretty at all. He felt it in his bones.

  “Sir William,” said the priest, clearing his throat. “We will start the ceremony now.”

  “Aye,” he said, feeling as if he could barely speak. If he were marrying the girl he loved, why did he feel so uncertain?

  Medea repeated her vows and then it was his turn to do the same. His thoughts kept going back to the girl named Ella. Something about her almost seemed familiar but he didn’t know why. Her eyes were a tone of violet that reminded him of gemstones. Her hair was bright like sunshine. He could almost feel the silken softness between his fingers just thinking about it. Her essence was sweet like wildflowers. While she had been dressed in mere rags, with soot in her hair and on her face, he still found her beautiful. Her inner beauty had shone brightly through her eyes.

  “Sir William?” asked the priest, dragging him from his thoughts. “Do you take Lady Medea as your wife?”

  The room was silent as everyone waited for him to answer. He looked over to his squire who had his eyes fastened to the ground. Then he glanced over at Terris who shrugged his shoulders and followed it with a nod. Was this the right thing to do? When he�
�d seen Cinderella, his heart felt light and happy. When he looked at Medea, he felt nothing at all.

  “Sir William?” the priest asked again.

  He decided he needed to follow through with what he said he would do. After all, he was a knight, and his word could not be broken.

  “I –”

  “William?” came a small voice from behind him. He turned to see Cinderella standing at the end of the aisle dressed in her tattered and dirty clothes and with bare feet. The baron was right behind her.

  “Cinderella.” Just saying her name aloud made his heart swell with joy.

  “It’s . . . Ella,” she said, flashing him a sweet smile.

  “Ella,” he repeated, feeling something inside him come to life. “Ella,” he repeated louder.

  “Sir William, everyone is waiting for you to say your vows,” interrupted Medea.

  William turned away from her, looking out at the crowd. They were all silent, even Lady Trevane and her obnoxious daughters who sat at the back of the chapel.

  “I know you can’t remember me, but I am the woman you love, not Medea.” Ella took a few steps toward him.

  “That’s not true,” whined Medea. She grabbed William’s arm. “Say your vow and give me the ring, quickly.”

  “You once gave me a ring,” said Ella, walking toward him slowly. “I don’t remember my past, but I had a vision and saw it. It was a plain, silver band, and it was in that wooden box I left in your solar after we . . . made love the night of the ball.”

  The crowd’s shock was evident by the muffled cries of surprise and mumbling amongst them.

  His heart went out to Ella. If this girl were lying, she would ruin her reputation by saying in front of everyone that they’d made love. Would she do that?

  “I – I don’t know what to say.” William waited as Cinderella approached him. Looking into his eyes, she continued.

  “The box has a butterfly on it, does it not?” Her eyes stayed fastened to his.

  He pulled the box out of his pocket and held it up for all to see. “It does. How would you know that?”