Page 40 of Disenchanted
“Obviously she sold something.” Mal scowled at me. “What was it this time?”
I shrugged. “Just my emeralds.”
Mal flushed with anger. “You confounded little idiot!”
“Mr. Hawkridge, really!” My stepmother protested, but Mal ignored her.
“I can’t believe you parted with your mother’s earrings and worse still, you went off and did it alone when I warned you never to—”
I gave Mal a sharp kick to silence him. My stepmother realized I had sold things in the past, but she had only the vaguest notion how I went about it, believing that I dealt with some respectable merchant in Midtown. She knew nothing of my ventures into Misty Bottoms and I preferred her to remain in ignorance.
I followed up the kick with a warning shake of my head. Mal swallowed the rest of his blistering rebuke, but I could tell it was difficult for him. He looked daggers at me and drummed his fingers on the arm of the bench. I hated to imagine his reaction when I told him I had been nearly robbed and killed. Perhaps it would be better if I kept that part of the story to myself.
My stepmother regarded me gravely. “My dear child, I wish you would have consulted me first. I would have never allowed you to make such a sacrifice.”
Netta’s eyes filled with tears. “I am so sorry, Ella.”
Even Amy looked somber, although she could not refrain from pointing out, “But it is not as though Ella ever actually wore the earrings.”
“Amy!” Netta cried.
I forced a smile to my lips. “Amy is right and although I did experience a pang when I sold them, it is nothing to the joy I will feel when I see my two little sisters transformed into the most dazzling belles that ever graced a royal ballroom.”
“Oh, Ella!” Both of my stepsisters leapt up and descended upon me. They obliged Mal to retreat to the very end of the bench to avoid being smothered in skirts. Netta and Amy embraced me, declaring that I was the most wonderful, amazing sister in the entire world.
“Certainly, she is the stupidest one,” Mal muttered.
“What Ella did was not stupid,” my stepmother said sharply. “It was noble and kind and an investment in her future as well.”
When Amy and Netta resumed their seats, Imelda also came to embrace me. She wrapped her arm about my shoulders and squeezed. I allowed my head to rest against her as she dropped a kiss upon my hair and cooed, “My darling girl, you shall be transformed as well and have the most magical evening of your life. You believe your heart was completely broken, but when you are waltzing in the arms of the prince, I think you are going to be very glad you never married that wretched young musician and— oh!”
Imelda clapped her hand to her mouth as though she could recapture her impulsive utterance. It was far too late for that. Amy and Netta gaped at me. As for Mal, he could not have appeared more stunned if the pergola’s roof had crashed down on his head.
My stepsisters had been far too young at the time to be aware of my infatuation with Harper and I had been quite secretive about the trysts with my bard. Now they were both on the edge of their seats, agog to hear all the details of my tragic romance. They assailed me with questions.
“You were going to marry a musician, Ella? But he broke your heart? Was he handsome? What was his name?”
“Never mind, girls,” my stepmother interrupted as she returned to her chair.
“But Mama—”
“I said never mind. Ella’s unfortunate romance happened a long time ago and I should never have mentioned it. We will forget about it and speak of more important things such as all that we must do to get ready for the ball. We have only two weeks.”
The girls subsided with disappointed sighs. But their excitement over the upcoming ball would cause any secrets I harbored to dwindle in significance. While my stepmother might have been able to curb my sisters’ curiosity, I knew Mal would not be so easily distracted. At the moment, he was stunned into silence. When I risked a glance at him, his eyes were full of hurt and questions I wished I did not have to answer.
Mal stood up rather abruptly, announcing that he had to leave. Imelda’s sigh of relief was audible, although she was gracious, thanking him once more for the tickets and politely saying she hoped he would call again. The invitation was warmly seconded by my stepsisters.
Mal barely acknowledged them, his gaze focused on me. “Will you walk me to the gate, Ella?”
The coward in me longed to refuse. But I could not avoid forever what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation.
“Of course,” I murmured.
Bidding farewell to my family, Mal offered me his arm. I rested my hand on the crook of his elbow as we left the garden. Imelda looked far from happy with this arrangement, but there was little she could say.
Mal and I made our way back through the house, neither of us speaking. I had often taken strolls with my friend in this companionable fashion, but never had his arm felt so stiff beneath my touch or the silence so heavy.
As we passed through the front door and down the garden walkway, I started to chatter as though I could delay the inevitable.
