Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells (13 page)

“
Yes, it’s red. And redheads can’t wear pink.”

“
They can’t?”

“
Of course not. So, you see, it wouldn’t do at all.”

“
Wouldn’t do..? Prudence, you aren’t making any sense.”

Prudence’s eyes filled with tears, and Ella watched in utter confusion. Why on earth would Prudence want her dance partner to wear pink? Few men ever wore pink, red
-
headed or not. Ella’s bewilderment might never have ended, but Prudence sniffled and managed to say;

“
It’s our daughter.”

Ella blinked. Prudence seemed to be implying… No. Surely not…

“
I want to dress her in pink silk.”

Then again, maybe so.

“
She
can’t
be
redheaded.
” Prudence’s voice rose in a wail of misery.

Ella’s last hope that her stepsister had anything resembling a rational though in her head dissipated, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. Trust Prudence to worry about the color of a daughter’s hair before she’d even dance with a man. Well, at least the mystery was cleared up.

“
Don’t cry, Pru, if it’s that important to you we’ll find you a nice blond or brunette to dance with.” Ella expected the tears to abate, but Prudence cried even harder. Beatrice and Millicent descended on the couch to wrap the poor girl in comforting arms, but before her head disappeared from view Ella heard her whisper one thing more.

“
He was just so nice.”

***

Ella was up in her attic work room, pulling fabric and threads for the next day at the shop, when she heard a tread coming up the stairs. Presently Millicent came sweeping in, but with far less swish to her sweep than was usual. Her face was thoughtful, and when she spoke her voice, for her at least, was low.

“
Eleanor, dear, I thought I’d come talk to you about the costumes for this next ball.”

“
Yes, Stepmother? What did you have in mind?”

“
Well, Prudence first. She took the little mishap with her scheme so hard, I thought perhaps we could make her next costume a bit more eye
-
catching?” Millicent sounded uncertain, a thing she almost never was, and Ella assumed she didn’t want to give her stepdaughter any offense. After all, Ella had designed the first costume, and if it wasn’t “eye
-
catching” enough that was surely a fault. Ella smiled sincerely at the plump little woman. The more eye
-
catching the better, as far as she was concerned.

“
I think I could manage that. Do you think Prudence would like to go as a gypsy dancing girl?”

“
Oh yes, I think that would do nicely. Nothing too scandalous, I assume?”

“
I think you can count on me to make it just scandalous enough.”

“
Oh excellent, excellent.” Millicent smiled happily, clearly relieved that this was so easy. “And now for Beatrice,
she
was
very
popular at the last ball. She danced almost every dance with a new partner, and I’m just a
bit
concerned,” Millicent’s heavy emphasis made it clear she was more than “just a bit” concerned, “that she might have appeared a
teeny
little bit flighty. I’d like her costume to show some, some… constancy.”

Constancy? Ella was stymied a moment.

“
I could dress her as a vestal virgin, from Hellas.” Ella wasn’t truly serious, but Millicent beamed.

“
That will do nicely dear. Just the thing.”

A vision of Beatrice, draped in white folds and wearing sandals, came to Ella. She wasn’t entirely sure that Millicent knew what a vestal virgin was, but it was as fine an idea for a costume as any.

“
Now, about
my
costume, I was wondering if… I mean, would it be possible to…” Millicent paused, and seemed to search for words. “Could you make me a mermaid?”

Ella wasn’t sure what to say. Millicent, clad in a fish tail and seashells, was a horror not to be imagined. She couldn’t even fathom what had prompted such a request, so she went with a safer objection.

“
It’s hardly a costume from around the world, is it? I mean, a mythical creature?”

“
I know, dear, but I was looking for something that would go with a sailor.”

Ella looked hard at her stepmother. Millicent’s gaze flickered around the room, and there, a the base of her collar, was the faintest flush. Ella’s eyes widened as the improbable thought struck her.

“
Stepmother, are you
husband hunting
?”

“
Oh Ella, darling,
really,
you mustn’t think I don’t miss your dear father, it’s not that I don’t…” Millicent was rushing to get the words out. Ella smiled and let the confusing jumble of verbal negatives wash over her. She knew that Millicent wasn’t the type of woman to enjoy being alone, it had just never occurred to her that her stepmother might try to remarry. The thought didn’t actually bother her, though; in fact, she thought it marvelous idea. She hastened to give reassurance.

“
I think it’s a lovely idea. Furthermore, I’m sure Father would approve. You’ve been alone too long, with only us girls to keep you company.”

Millicent beamed with relief.

“
Well, dear, you and Prudence and Beatrice are all the company I could ever want. But it would be handy to have a husband around, just for the little things, you know.”

Ella looked at the floor, hiding her grin. Indeed. The little things.

“
Tell me, Stepmother, if you want to match a sailor… do you have a particular gentleman in mind?”

“
Well, Sir Henry did happen to mention he was planning on attending the next ball as an old sea dog. Something about showing everyone he still knew how to dance the hornpipe.”

Sir Henry was a portly older gentleman living in the neighborhood. He had purchased his knighthood after returning from a long sea voyage years ago, when, so rumor put it, he had discovered a hidden pirate treasure. Sir Henry himself would never confirm or deny the rumor, only say, with a sly twinkle in his eye;

“
The sea holds many things, lass, and ‘tis a sure thing I found
something
out there.”

Ella liked Sir Henry, but more importantly, she thought he would be a good, if somewhat odd, match for Millicent. The man’s blunt manners and
sly
humor often hid his true character, which, as far as Ella could determine, was kind and generous, and stable like bedrock. Ella thought her stepmother could use that kind of firm support. Her mind was wandering, though, and she pulled it firmly back to the question of Millicent’s costume.

“
I think I know just the thing, Stepmother. Leave it to me.”

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

“
Max… Max, are you listening to me?”

Max started. In truth, his mind had wandered when Vivienne began explaining, for the third time, where and when he should drop off the supplies he was gathering for her. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—he very much wanted his friend to succeed with her plan—but the
p
rincess was only going over all this out of nerves. One never walked out on royalty when they were orating, though, so here he was, watching her pace and talk, while he thought about a certain petite seamstress who had refused a kiss.

“
Max!” Clearly he’d missed some significant point. Again.

“
Yes, your royal craftiness, mistress of well laid plans?”

“
Max, I can still have you beheaded.”

“
Ah, but then to whom would you babble all your secrets?”

Vivienne laughed, disarmed. She knew she was running on, but she had been hoping Max might actually contribute a worthy idea. Instead he was sitting there, staring off into space.

“
You wouldn’t happen to be thinking of the charming girl from the other night, would you?”

“
Now, what kind of man would think about another woman while conversing with his fake fiancée?”

“
The kind who is just a bit taken with the other woman, perhaps?”

Max scowled at her.

“
I am not taken with a Low Street
s
eamstress. The suggestion is ridiculous.” His voice came out in a grumble.

“
Of
course
it’s ridiculous. But that’s never stopped you before.” Max’s brow drew together in an alarming way, but Vivienne only laughed harder. “Goodness, Max, if she’s affecting you this badly why not just tumble the girl and get it out of your system? Just make sure you aren
’t found out.
”

Max’s eyes flared. “Stop pretending to be nothing but a spoiled noblewoman, Vivienne. It’s beneath you.” His voice was hard and flat. “She’s from a good family and I like her very much, I would never just tumble her and then cast her off.”

When Max spoke like that Vivienne knew she had pushed him too far.

“
I’m sorry, Max.” She was truly repentant. “I know you wouldn’t, I was just trying to tease you out of this mood.” Vivienne sighed, genuinely concerned for her friend’s happiness. “You’ve been mooning for days. Maybe you
are
taken with her. Have you considered it?”