by Lenore, Lani
She held in the anger, tightly compressed in her belly. A lady would never act as Isabella felt then, but the dead girl downstairs could rest assured: she would be seeing no more of Christian Charming.
5
Cindy put on her night dress and pulled back the covers on her bed. She had said goodnight to her father and taken a warm bath to wash away the blood and soot. The bath had felt good to her after a long day of working in the cold mortuary.
She had just prepared the body of Kate Hensen, a woman who died of a long illness. The funeral was set for tomorrow at eleven a.m. at her father’s advisory. Soon after, she had found out that Mrs. Hensen had been Christian’s aunt. Cindy found herself satisfied that the reason he was there was not to see her step-sisters. The way they both swooned over him made her want to vomit more than the smells from the corpses. She only wished she could have seen them falling over themselves like she was sure they had done. To be so hungry for a man’s attention was shameful. She would never be caught doing it.
And yet…
Christian Charming… Their meeting today had not drifted far from her mind all evening. She had thought he was handsome as soon as she had looked up to see him standing there in the basement hall. She was quite curious as to who he was underneath that beautiful exterior, but as soon as he had told her his name, she knew him. He was the one: the topic of all Isabella and Charlotte’s rambling. They had even spoken of him earlier today while they made the servants ready their finest dresses. Now that Cindy had seen him, she hated herself for falling under the spell of his eyes, and refused to acknowledge it.
Sighing, she walked to the iron cage on the table beside her bed and looked inside at the fattened rat there. He was slick and black with little black eyes that looked at Cindy lovingly. She had rescued him from a trap near the attic, and he had been her pet ever since.
“Hi, Augustus,” she said, sticking her finger through the bars. The rat sniffled it with its pink nose. “I hope your day was better than mine. I met a man who was completely full of himself. He was the worst I’ve ever seen - yet there was something about him. He was pompous, no doubt. A total windbag, it’s true, but those eyes. That dark hair… He was perfect on the outside – though how could I have expected less. Did you know he is the one that Isabella and Charlotte are always fawning over? It’s funny: I don’t want him – no, I don’t want him – yet I can’t bear the thought that he’d be with the pig or the mule! Such a waste. Perhaps I just don't want them to have what they want.”
Cindy looked over to the rodent, who was giving her his full attention through the bars and wiggling his nose. As she looked, she could see his ears moving carefully, hearing sounds she couldn’t hear.
“What is it?” she asked, but expected no answer.
In a quick dash, the mouse turned and ran into the safety of a glass cup she had turned up inside the cage. Almost as soon as he had hid himself from view, there was a pounding on Cindy’s door.
“Open the door, Cindy!” came the call.
Cindy rolled her eyes and lay down on the bed, ignoring the knocks. She knew who it was, but didn’t care what she wanted.
“What do you want, Isabella?” she asked.
“Open the door. I have to talk to you,” she insisted.
“Go to sleep,” Cindy insisted, laying an arm across her eyes.
“Open this door or I won’t give you a moment’s peace!” the girl said, beating on the wood again.
Cindy rolled her head to look toward her pet. “She’s probably not lying,” she said to him secretly.
Cindy pulled herself up angrily and walked across the cold floor in her bare feet. Isabella’s noise was sure to wake the whole household, and she wouldn’t stop until she was appeased.
“What do you want? You’re going to wake the whole house!” Cindy said in a harsh whisper after she had pulled the door open.
“I heard you made a new friend today,” Isabella said, twisting her blond hair around a slender finger.
“What are you talking about?” Cindy asked in annoyance, aiming to push the door closed again. She was done with her step-sister’s ridiculous drama, but Isabella caught it abruptly and pushed it back open.
They glared at each other through the crack in the doorway where Isabella had wedged her slippered foot. The girls had been rivals ever since the first day that Anna and her daughters had moved into this house. Once mere girls of ten, there had always been a grudge between them. Isabella had been determined to crush Cindy and steal the affection of both parents, and Cindy had been smart enough to recognize the other girl’s intention. They had been destined for pure hatred from the beginning, and Cindy would be happier to watch her die than to spit on her if she erupted in flames.
“Christian. Charming,” Isabella reminded her in a haughty tone. “You spoke to him today. He came to see you. I just want you to know that you will never be seeing him again. He’s mine.”
“Not that I would want to,” said Cindy disgustedly. She was being accused of setting her intention’s on a boy she had only just met? “I think the two of you belong together. Goodnight, Isabella.”
“Sure,” she said. “You say that, but no one can resist Christian’s appeal. He’s completely irresistible.” She snarled her lip. “But he’d never be interested in you anyway.”
This sent a flame of anger through Cindy.
“What if he was?” she asked, only aiming to make the other girl feel the same humiliation that she felt.
It seemed to work. Isabella’s expression grew sour. “He isn’t. Besides that, if I have to make sure of it, I will.”
“What could you possibly do?”
“You’ll see,” said the blonde with a knowing smile. “As if I didn’t hate you enough already. I will completely ruin your life if it means I can keep you away from Christian.”
“I welcome you to try,” said Cindy darkly, feeling confident in her immunity. As long as she had her father, none of these others would be able to touch her.
“Have it your way,” said Isabella, also confident in her own threat. “Sleep well. Tomorrow is the first day of hell.”
6
That night, Cindy dreamed of blue eyes and dark hair. Those things took on a form of beauty that stood out above anything else. There was a tall, strong young man smiling at her - just for her - and then abruptly he moved into the distance. He was no longer a man. He was a tree.
She saw the lone tree behind the house where her mother had been buried years ago. She saw herself sitting beneath that tree, crying for days on end as the sun sank and rose again over the horizon. She heard her own sobs, but in the midst of them, she heard her mother’s voice – the last words the woman had ever spoken to her before her death.
“Be a good girl, Cindy. Make me proud of you. God will take care of you and I will be with you always.”
Lastly, Cindy saw roses, and a tear trickled down her cheek, soaking into the pillow.
Chapter Two
1
“Upon the death of Mr. Charles Henry Madison, the whole of his estate and fortune shall be left to his wife, Anna Madison though if she becomes unable to fulfill her duties or if death takes her first, the house and land shall fall to his unmarried daughter, Cindy Madison, to be held until the time of her marriage. Charles requests upon death that Anna will keep watch over his daughter Cindy and that she might be allowed to dwell in the house with Anna and her two daughters until the day comes that she will wed, at which point, if she requires the house, it will become hers…
"Mrs. Madison?”
The words had been a puff of smoke in Anna’s ears, but she looked up when the magistrate called her name. Anna’s eyes, once beautiful but now entrenched with stress and age, looked up toward the man with such a look of sorrow and bewilderment that would make even the sternest of men fall to their knees. To be widowed was to evoke the softest form of pity, and she was not new to it.
“Yes, I’m listening,” she said distantly, wringing
a handkerchief in her hands and peering at him with misty eyes.
“I am dreadfully sorry about your loss,” the man said gently. “The will requires you agree to these terms concerning his daughter if I am to sign the property titles over to you. Will you comply with your late husband’s wishes and agree to accommodate his daughter in your house?”
“I will,” she said somberly. “I will treat her like she was my own.”
Anna threw in a heartbreaking smile as a tear rolled down her fair cheek, and the deal was done.
2
Three years later…
The sign that had hung near the road was no more, but the post still stood. The business by which Charles Madison had made his living was no longer in operation and the basement of the house had been sealed away, no longer welcoming anyone to come inside. It was a piece of the Madison legacy that begged to be forgotten.
Over the past years without its master’s care, the house had fallen into disrepair. No longer were the hallways filled with servants to keep the manor intact. The fortune had been squandered by the lavish tastes of its users, and it was never to be replaced.
Only four people let their presence linger in the household now, three years since the death of Mr. Madison had taken its toll on everyone inside. For a long while, nothing at all was in any social order, but slowly, as time passed, Anna came to gain control over the house and those who lived inside. One by one, servants left, until all that remained, living off the fantastic riches that they withheld for themselves, where Anna and her two daughters.
Cindy still dwelled in the house, but it was quite different from old times. The dark-haired girl no longer went ignored and unnoticed, though she wished greatly for it as days passed. Her presence was needed in the house. By her father's death, she was made important. Cindy was given the job as the only maid and servant, forced by brutalities and torture. Though she performed many of the household duties, her company was spoken of as a burden and she was constantly reminded that the only reason she was still allowed to stay was because it was her late father’s request, but there were no orders on how she was to be kept.
Unsettling thoughts of her father’s death still hung with Cindy. Isabella had promised her hell, and though the others were living in luxury, Cindy knew she was truly living in the burning darkness. Only a short few months after Isabella’s promise, her father had died, and since that, everything had fallen darker than before.
The man had not been buried beside her mother beneath their tree, and that thing alone caused Cindy great anger and pain, like a bad omen that spoke harsher of the things to come. Cindy had not been allowed to prepare him properly for the earth - to search his body for the cause of his illness - and so he had been thrown into the ground in a box with few words spoken over his body.
She would never forget this.
The girl’s hair was usually dirty now, though so long it reached her thighs. Her father had always told her that her hair was what reminded him most of her mother, and after he died, she had made a promise: she would never cut her hair again. She kept it pulled up tightly in a braided bun to save it from the toils of her work.
Cindy’s face was always dirtied with soot and dust, gathering on her cheeks and along her chin. She was only allowed to bathe at the end of the day – only if it didn’t interfere with her family’s plans. Though they were cruel to her in this way, she was always made to wash her arms and face before preparing food.
Cindy wore a ragged brown dress, torn across the shoulder to reveal some old material of white that she had made to cover her bare skin. Only one sleeve of the dress remained to protect Cindy’s arms from work. The dress was ripped at an angle across the bottom and gracing it was a dirty, white apron which was the only thing on the poor girl that was not torn. It bore the stains of her life like a painted collage. Protecting her slender legs were two oversized stockings, and on her feet rested two old, black shoes that she had learned to maneuver in, though they were too big for her.
Her hands were wrapped carefully in dirty bandages. Tending to the fire had taken quite a toll on her delicate hands, not to mention the scrapes and cat scratching she received every day while dealing with a spoiled pet of Anna’s. There was emptiness in the girl's eyes, but if one looked hard enough, they might just see a glimmer of life still dwelling inside her in some deep and forgotten place. There was not much left, for her sisters and mother had crushed most of her spirit, but a spark of something remained. Perhaps it was only hatred.
Cindy endured all of these things which had been Isabella’s promise of hell, and without her father there to protect her, she was truly only at the mercy of the devil.
The dining room in which they all sat on this crisp autumn day held only a remnant of the glory it had in the past. The long redwood table still stood, accompanied by its matching chairs. The large crystal chandelier had been removed. Long drapes covered the windows to protect the interior from the outside world. Aside from removable items, a fireplace was set in the wall with a convenient pot for cooking or warming food. Other than those features, the room was empty, and their footsteps echoed across it. Most items that had been unessential were sold to buy more pretty clothes for the van Burrens. They were all about presentation, for they never spent much time at home. As in former days, no polite company wanted to venture here, and that suited them well.
Cindy’s place at the dining table was on the far end near the door were the draft blew in. The other three chairs were arranged together at the other end, leaving Cindy to stare down at those three vultures as they talked amongst themselves about things to which Cindy was not welcome. Once, they had made her take her food in the kitchen like a servant, but had eventually decided that it was much more convenient for her to be close if they wanted something.
The girl would much rather be alone.
Isabella dipped a silver spoon into the soup before her, stirring it gently before raising the liquid to her dainty lips. Almost as abruptly as she’d let the soup enter, she spit it out into her cloth napkin unyieldingly and with exaggerated stress.
“This is cold, Cinderella!” said Isabella, who had insisted on calling Cindy the nickname ever since she had heard it from Christian those years ago.
“You should have come down to dinner when I told you it was ready,” the girl said quietly. Her fingers may have been worn, but her tongue was still sharp.
“Cindy!” Anna scolded at once. “Where are your manners? Don’t speak to your sister that way! Why don’t you ask her if she would like you to warm it for her?”
Charlotte giggled a bit, pushing her red hair behind her ears as Cindy scowled.
“And wipe that look off of your face,” said Anna. “Would you look at company in that manner? You should not treat your own sister with such disrespect.”
Cindy lowered her head at the scolding. Anna always took on this stance when dealing with her. She tried to keep Cindy’s spirit crushed by always reprimanding her so calmly – as if they were all equals.
Cindy knew why she allowed them to treat her this way. They reminded her often – she was only allowed to stay in the house because it pleased them. Her father had left the house and property to Anna, and they could throw her out into the street whenever they desired to. They would ensure that her reputation was disgraced in the town, and she would have nowhere else to go. This was Cindy’s life, and was all that remained of what she’d had.
Taking a tolerating breath, Cindy rose and walked to Isabella’s seat, taking the bowl from in front of her and going back to the kettle. She poured the soup into the pot and put the lid on. Like the obedient slave I am. She tended to the fire with bandage-wrapped hands as the family she served continued their conversation.
“What are we doing today, mother?” asked Isabella, sitting straight as she waited for her meal to return.
“We’re going to buy me a new dress,” said Charlotte, before sipping her drink.
“That’s not fair! I want a new dre
ss as well!” demanded Isabella, slamming her fist on the table and then looking towards her mother.
“You got a new dress last week!” yelled Charlotte.
“That was a church dress!” Isabella insisted as if her sister was an idiot. “I need a new one for when we are to dine with Christian tomorrow.”
Cindy felt her chest tighten at the mention, but she tried not to show that she'd been affected.
“You remember Christian, don’t you, Cinderella?” Isabella asked pointedly.
Cindy put some of the steaming hot soup into the bowl. One would think that after three years, Isabella would have stopped thinking these words had an effect, but the arrogant girl never tired of those taunts. Cindy said nothing in reply.
“He’s even handsomer now than he used to be, don’t you think, Charlotte?”
“Oh yes,” said the younger girl. “He’s truly grown up. The three years have done him well. I do mean his face of course, though it would be wrong to ignore the rest of him.” She giggled scandalously.
“I believe he is more attractive this month than last,” Isabella said leadingly, examining Cindy’s face as she set the bowl back onto the table. Cindy gave no indication that she was even listening. Inside, however, her heart and temples were pulsing with blood.
“And he would make the perfect husband for one of you,” said Anna to her girls.
“You mean me,” corrected Isabella as Cindy walked back to her seat.
“Don’t be so sure,” said Charlotte, taking a spoonful of her soup.
Isabella watched her a moment before speaking. “Who would want to marry you? You’re sloppy and messy - just like a pig!”
“Shut it, you old mule! Who would want to marry you?”
“Girls, please,” scolded Anna. “You shouldn’t call each other names. Besides, I’m sure that one of you will get Christian, and when you do, we will all reap the benefits of that loving marriage!”