A Perfect Fit:

by Elizabeth Rose

  “You’d pace too if you were expected to choose a bride,” snapped William. “Where the hell is my squire with my surcoat?” Then he stopped in his tracks and looked over to Terris. “Why haven’t you chosen a wife by now if you’ve been hosting this ball in my absence for the past three years?”

  “I could have had a wife by now, but I didn’t want one.” Terris tightened his weapon belt as he spoke. “I only used that as a means to get all the single ladies in one place at the same time.”

  “What for?” asked William.

  “So I could court them, of course.” Terris flicked a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Just do what I do, Brother. At the end of the dance, announce that there are so many beautiful ladies that caught your eye that you are going to have to think things over. You court them one by one, sampling the pleasures of each of them, and never end up choosing any of them. It’s a snap.” He snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Then you do it all over again the next year.”

  “Hah!” said Lucio, still staring out the window. “Terris, you are starting to sound a lot like my sons.”

  “Your sons are all married, Lord Lucio,” said Terris, resting his bottom end on the top of a small table.

  “Not all of them. MacKay is the last one. He is up in Scotland. The others finally got married, and I was relieved. Even my youngest daughter, Rapunzel, who was vain and haughty found a man to marry. There is just MacKay and Ella left.”

  William looked up sharply. “But I am going to marry Ella.”

  “She doesn’t even know you,” Terris reminded him.

  “She knows me; she just doesn’t remember. Hopefully, that will all change soon.” Having Lucio around was a good thing. He kept reminding William of things he forgot. Especially things concerning Ella.

  “Have you found a way to break Hecuba’s curse yet?” Terris asked him curiously.

  “Well, no.” William strolled over to the window. “I was hoping Lord Lucio would figure out a way.”

  “I wish I knew,” said Lucio letting out a breath of air. “This time Hecuba has me stumped. I have no idea how to break the curse, and I am greatly concerned.”

  “As you should be,” came a voice. “And get your bottom end off of me, you fool.”

  William turned around to see Terris jump straight up in the air as the table under his rump shapeshifted into the old witch. His eyes opened wide in disbelief. “What the hell!” he spat.

  “Hecuba,” growled Lucio. “How long have you been here spying on us?”

  “Long enough to know you are worried your daughter will never remember you or her siblings.” She chuckled. “I love to see you squirm, Lucio.”

  “W-who are you?” asked Terris.

  “William, don’t think you can break Ella’s curse because you can’t,” said the old hag, shaking her finger in the air.

  “I never said I could,” he responded.

  “Hecuba, remove the curse. This isn’t funny,” warned Lucio.

  “It wasn’t funny when you seduced me and then shunned me years ago either.” Her face twitched when she mentioned it.

  “You seduced . . . her?” Terris asked in astonishment looking at the wrinkled, gray-haired woman with blackened teeth. He shook his head in disbelief.

  “She was in the form of a beautiful young woman at the time,” Lucio told Terris. “Believe me; she looked nothing like this.” He splayed out his arm, pointing to the witch.

  “Lucio de Bar, if I must remind you, I am hundreds of years old, so how do you expect me to look?” Hecuba patted her black wimple and stuck her chin in the air.

  “I’m almost that old as well, and you barely see a gray hair on my head,” said Lucio.

  “I can remedy that.” Hecuba raised her hand. William jumped out of the way, not sure what was going to happen.

  “Mother, don’t.” Medea appeared in a cloud of black fog.

  “Medea.” Lucio’s eyes lit up. “Daughter,” he said, taking a step toward her.

  “Stop!” Medea raised her hand causing Lucio to stop in his tracks. “I am only here to tell everyone that I overheard some talk at the manor. Word is that Sir William is suspected of stealing the taxes collected by the baron.”

  “Damn. He knows,” mumbled William, not wanting to hear this news.

  “Why are you warning these humans about anything?” asked Hecuba. “Haven’t I taught you not to meddle? I hope you aren’t still visiting Cinderella.”

  “Why not?” asked Medea. “After all, she’s my sister.”

  “Medea, don’t hurt her,” said William.

  “Just because I have magic, doesn’t mean I’m going to use it against people.” Medea’s dark eyes glared at him.

  “That’s my girl,” said Lucio excitedly.

  “I think it’s time to go,” said Hecuba. While Medea rolled her eyes, Hecuba took her daughter’s hand, and they both disappeared.

  “Are you worried, William?” asked Terris.

  “Of course, I’m worried,” snapped William. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I’ll inform the men to be on the lookout. We’ll apprehend anyone that seems suspicious tonight,” said Terris. “Don’t worry, Brother, I’ve trained the men well.”

  “I’m worried about myself,” said William, looking out the window. “I’m worried that Ella and I will never remember the treasured moments we’ve spent together in the past. And now that her memory is gone, she might not want me after all.”

  Ella wrinkled her nose and, with two fingers, pulled a mouse out of her sewing box, holding it up in the air by its tail. She was getting braver.

  Greta and Beatrice screamed, running to tell their mother. Lady Trevane stormed into the bedchamber glaring at Ella with eyes of fire.

  “How dare you try to frighten the girls right before they go to the ball.” She put one arm around each of her daughters. “Why haven’t you taken care of the mice problem by now?”

  “I ask myself the same thing every day,” said Ella putting the mouse on the floor and watching it scurry away. She felt stronger than ever. Greta and Beatrice held on to each other, still frightened over a little mouse. Ella could very well have taken care of this problem if she’d only stood up to her stepmother as Medea told her to do.

  “Mother, we’ll be waiting in the carriage,” said Greta, taking her sister with her.

  “I don’t want any trouble from you tonight,” Ella’s stepmother told her.

  “I think I’ll go to the ball, too,” Ella answered, testing the waters.

  “You? Harrumph” sniffed the woman. “You don’t belong at the ball. Sir William is choosing a wife tonight, and I don’t want to see you anywhere near Castle Fremont.”

  “I received an invitation as well,” Ella reminded her, standing up and pulling her missive from the pouch at her side. It was faded from falling into her bucket of water.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “I found it while I was cleaning. So, it seems I do belong there after all.”

  “Guards,” shouted Agnes, causing two soldiers to appear at the door.

  “Yes, my lady,” said one as they bowed.

  “Take Cinderella up to her tower room and lock her inside.” She handed the key to one of the men.

  “You can’t do this,” protested Ella as the guards grabbed her by the arms and hauled her away. “You have no right! I was invited to Sir William’s ball, too.”

  There wasn’t much she could do about it, although she struggled against the guards. They threw her into her tower room and closed the door. Ella ran over and pulled at the latch, but they had locked the door behind them.

  “Nay,” she cried, feeling tears welling in her eyes. She wanted to see William to tell him she had a memory of them together. If he chose a woman for his wife tonight, she would be devastated. After all, in her memory, he was supposed to marry her. “Let me out, let me out!” she screamed, banging on the door but to no avail. No one would come to her rescue.

  She turned ar
ound and ran to the window and threw open the shutter. There, in the courtyard, she saw her stepmother and stepsisters getting into a carriage. She’d worked her fingers to the bone to make sure their gowns were perfect. And now, here she was dressed in rags with no chance at all to be chosen as Sir William’s bride.

  “Very good.” She heard clapping and turned to find Medea lounging back on the pallet. Only now, it was a beautiful bed atop a dais with lush velvet curtains hanging around it. She slowly turned, taking in her surroundings. She saw a hearth and a fire and ornate wall hangings. Looking down to her feet, she found clean, sweet-smelling rushes on the floor. On the far wall was a tall wardrobe and there were wooden chairs with cushions and a shiny table. From the ceiling hung an iron candelabra filled with beeswax candles burning brightly. The room smelled of bayberry and cinnamon. “Notice anything?” asked Medea.

  “Yes, of course, I do. These are not my surroundings.”

  “They could be if you married Sir William.”

  “I am not allowed to go to the ball, so he will never choose me.”

  “See any mice?” asked Medea, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

  “Nay,” said Ella, looking around the floor.

  “That is because, for once, you weren’t a mouse. You stood up for what you wanted and confronted your stepmother.”

  “I did,” she said proudly, standing up straighter. “But little good it did.” She sighed and sat next to Medea on the bed. “I’m trapped now, locked in the tower with no way out.”

  Medea chuckled. “Much like your little sister, Rapunzel, locked away but far from helpless.”

  “You keep mentioning Rapunzel. I would like to meet her. Tell me about her.”

  “Oops, there I go again. Such a slip of the tongue.” Medea smiled but told her nothing more. “Now, get up and get dressed because you are going to the ball.”

  “I have nothing to wear and no way to get there.”

  That comment brought about Medea’s immature roll of the eyes again. “I told you I would help you and I will. Look in the wardrobe. You will find what you need.”

  Ella got up and walked across the room. She yanked open the standing wardrobe and gasped. Inside was a beautiful, long, pink gown made of silk with a white lace bodice. She picked it up and noticed the huge pink bow on the back.

  “This is beautiful, Medea. I have never seen anything like it.”

  “Put it on,” she said. “There are gloves in the trunk and jewelry on the dressing table.”

  “Dressing table?” She turned to see a dressing table and mirror that hadn’t been there a minute ago. Something sparkled from atop it. She walked over to find a necklace and tiara made of diamonds. She reached out slowly, but before her hand touched it, she pulled it away. “I can’t wear these, Medea.”

  “Why not?” she asked. “You are a lady and deserve it. Don’t you feel it is true?”

  “I – I’m not sure,” she whispered, picking up the headpiece, running her fingers over the diamonds. Medea told her things, but she wasn’t sure what to believe. Ella searched her mind, struggling to remember. Had she lived this way in her past? Was her father rich? Did she usually wear beautiful gowns and jewels and sleep on a raised bed? Sadly, she had no idea. She could have been a ragpicker for all she knew. If only she could remember.

  “The ball is starting soon. If you don’t hurry, you’re going to miss everything.” Medea clicked her long nails together.

  “Do you really think I should go . . . wearing this?” She placed the tiara on her head and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was streaked with dirt. Her hair was dirty and tangled.

  “Enough with the self-pity already.” With a wave of Medea’s hand, Ella found herself clean and adorned wearing the pink gown, glass slippers, and diamond jewelry.

  “I still don’t know if I should go,” said Ella, feeling her previous spurt of confidence dwindling.

  “The gloves are in the trunk. Hurry and get them and I’ll come up with some transportation.”

  Still feeling as if she were in a daze, Ella opened the trunk that held her few personal belongings. Sure enough, she saw the gloves that Medea said would be there. When she picked them up, something fell to the floor. Looking down to the ground at her feet, her jaw dropped open. Bending over, she carefully picked up the small wooden box with the butterfly carved in the wooden lid.

  “Medea?” asked Ella without turning around. “Did you put this box in here?”

  “Box? What box?” she asked, coming over to take a look. “That plain, old thing? Nay, why would I manifest that when you have all this?” She stretched out her arms making a sweep of the room to prove her point. “Hurry, Ella, it is time to go.”

  With shaking hands, Ella slowly opened the box she’d seen in her vision of the past, expecting to find a ring inside. To her dismay, the box was empty.

  “Look out the window. I have your carriage waiting for you.”

  Ella stuck the box into the silk bag hanging at her waist and hurried to the window. Looking down into the courtyard, she saw a pink carriage shaped like a pumpkin with large yellow wheels. A driver sat in the front, holding the reins of two snow-white horses.

  “That’s for me?” she gasped.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “What will the guards say when they see me leaving in the carriage?”

  “I assure you, they won’t even notice. My magic is not as strong as my mother’s yet, so be sure to be back by the stroke of midnight or everything will return to the way it was before.”

  “What about my stepmother?” asked Ella. “What will happen when she sees me at the ball?”

  “Don’t ask so many questions,” Medea said with a giggle. “You’ll just have to wait to see what happens. But now that you’ve stood up to her, it shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

  “I suppose not.” Ella said the words but didn’t want to have to face her stepmother again. No matter how brave she’d been, she still didn’t like confrontation.

  “Mayhap, if you’re lucky, Sir William will even kiss you.”

  “Yes, mayhap he will.” She clutched the silk pouch holding the box, feeling her heart beating rapidly. Would William even want to kiss her again? He said he had a memory of them as well so, hopefully, he would. She needed to know about his memory. Tonight, she would do whatever it took to get him to tell her about it.

  Chapter 14

  “Go outside and look again,” William told his squire. “She’s got to be here.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but I didn’t see her anywhere. The guards on the battlements said that no one else has arrived in the past hour.”

  “William, I’m famished, and the guests are getting restless,” said Terris. “Plus, the cook said he cannot hold off the meal much longer. Can we please eat?”

  William searched the room with his eyes, hoping he’d find Ella. Her stepsister, Greta, saw him glancing in her direction and made a beeline for him, followed by her sister, Beatrice. Their mother was right behind them.

  “Save me,” said William under his breath to his brother. “I cannot stand one more minute talking to the likes of them.”

  “Just play the game,” said Terris. “At the end of the night it will all be over, and you will have made dozens of girls happy.”

  “There is only one girl I want to make happy. Unfortunately, she’s not here.”

  “Sir William, I see you have some empty spaces at the dais table,” said Lady Trevane, pushing in front of her daughters to get to him first.

  “Aye, I suppose I do,” he said.

  “Smile,” whispered Terris. “Don’t forget to smile. You are supposed to be charming.”

  He flashed a fake smile, and things only got worse from there. It seemed both the sisters thought he was smiling at them.

  “I’ll take the seat next to yours, Sir William,” said Greta, pushing her younger sister out of the way.

  “Nay, that will be where I sit. He smiled at me,
not you.” Beatrice took hold of her skirts and fanned them out as she curtseyed, trying to block Greta.

  “Girls, where are your manners?” asked Lady Trevane. “Sir William has three spots empty at the dais so there will be room for all of us.”

  “Terris,” William said, shooting his brother a desperate plea for help.

  “Now, now, ladies,” said Terris stepping forward. “One of those seats is mine. As much as we would like all of you to sit with us, I am afraid there are only two seats available.”

  “One,” William said from the side of his mouth.

  “One?” asked Terris.

  “One is for . . . Ella,” he said, muffling her name in a fake cough.

  “There seems to be only one available seat at the dais, my dear ladies,” said Terris, playing the perfect gentleman.

  “I want it,” snapped Beatrice.

  “Nay, it’s for me,” said Greta. They kept pushing each other out of the way.

  “Girls, please,” said Lady Trevane, trying her best to act like a noblewoman although William saw her as a witch, no better than Hecuba. “Sir William will choose. So, who will it be?” she asked him. “Will you invite Greta or Beatrice to sit with you?”

  Why the hell did they ask him? He didn’t want either of them at the dais. He looked out to the room once more, hoping to see Ella.

  “Yes, which of them will you choose?” asked Terris with a dung-eating grin. William could kill his brother right now for putting him in such a position.

  “I – I,” he didn’t know what to say. So, he did the only thing that might save him. “I can’t decide, ladies. I need some time to think about it,” he told them, trying to remember his brother’s advice.

  “The meal is starting,” said Terris. “You’d better choose quickly.”

  Once again, William shot him a look that could kill. He had followed Terris’ instructions and, instead of backing him, his brother was throwing him to the wolves.

  “I think Terris should decide,” he answered. Now it was his turn to smile.