Ella

(The story of Cinderella)

“Ell-A!!!!” came the shout.

“Yes, mother?” Ella replied quickly, as she left the kitchen, closing the door gently behind her.  She had been snatching a few precious moments of peace in which to have her lunch.  But it looked like that was over for another day.

“Where have you been, you lazy girl?” Lady Marchmont demanded, grabbing her stepdaughter by the hair, and dragging her along.

“Only in the kitchen, helping cook,” Ella said, trying not to gasp in pain, as she stumbled along.

“Well, you should have been in your sisters’ bedroom, helping them,” her stepmother snapped.

Ella decided not to mention that she had been banned from all the upstairs rooms the week before, after accidentally leaving a dusty footprint on the landing carpet.

“Why, mother?” she ventured instead.

“You stupid child - it’s the twentieth birthday ball of Lord Callum Fraiser, and it’s tonight!  Your sisters need help to get dressed!”

As Lady Marchmont pushed Ella into the room, her current house guest, Aline, stepped onto the landing.

“Why, hello, Jemima.  I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to!”

“I’m very busy, Aline.  The girls are getting ready for the ball tonight.  I’ve sent Ella in to help them.  I think I’d be best to go and supervise though - I really wouldn’t trust Ella with a curling iron if my life depended on it!”

“Is Ella not going?  I thought the invitation was for her as well?” Aline asked curiously.

“She’s going all right!” exclaimed Lady Marchmont.  “She’ll sit in the side room with all the other servant girls, and mind our wraps!

Aline flinched slightly, but said nothing more as she entered her own room.  Jemima entered her daughters’ bedroom, and began supervising.  Her two own daughters were twins, Melissa and Ciara.  Pretty names.  The girls themselves were not so pretty.  Their looks would quite possibly have been improved if it hadn’t been for the perpetual sneers of discontent and selfishness across them.  How different from Ella, Aline thought, as she began her own toilette for the night ahead.  Ella was truly beautiful - or would be, once the grime was off her face.  She did hope Jemima would at least clean her up before they left for the Fraiser’s mansion.

Ÿ

“Now, stay there until we come back for you,” ordered Lady Marchmont imperiously, as they swept into the hallway of the mansion.  The butler opened the door of a side room, and Ella entered, clutching her stepfamily's wraps.  She sat down quietly near the door.  The other girls were already gossiping.  One of them was standing on tiptoe, trying to catch a glimpse of the ballroom through a peephole high in the wall.  Ella knew none of them, and she resigned herself to hours of boredom.

As the clock in the hall struck ten, Ella decided that she had had enough.  She stood up, and quietly opened the door of the room.  The other maids didn’t notice - they were too busy talking.  She slipped out, and stood in the massive, ornate hallway.  Everyone was in the ballroom, and the hallway was deserted.  She heard the footsteps of the butler approaching, and quickly darted to the door, and ran out.  She breathed in the cool night air as the door closed behind her.  It was such a relief after the stifling heat of the servants room.  Then she descended the steps, and daringly began to walk in the garden.  After all, she had been invited, so she was (officially) a guest.

She neared the beautiful fountain that was the centre piece of the garden, and sat down on the edge.  She trailed her hand in the water, and pretended that she was...a beautiful princess.  Who had a loving mother and father.  Who was dressed in a beautiful ball gown, and was simply taking a rest from all the excitement of the party, before going back to join it, and dance with all the handsome young men...

“Is that what you really want?” came a deep voice from behind her.

Ella blushed, then went white, and jumped up, ready to flee.  She’d been thinking out loud, and someone had heard her.  She looked around...but there was nobody there.

“Who...who is it?” she asked.  It was probably one of the impudent stable hands, sneaking around, and waiting to pounce on unsuspecting girls.  She tensed, ready to fight back.

“Oh, no-one important,” said the voice.  It had a melancholy tone, but it was very male, and Ella was still wary.

“Where are you?” she demanded.  “Show yourself.”

“Can’t I stay hidden?  I’d like to sit here all night, and just look at you,” the voice said.  “You really are beautiful, you know.”

“No!” gasped Ella, embarrassed, but flattered too.  Then she mentally slapped herself.  “And I’d thank you not to make senseless comments, because they’re surely not true.”

“Oh, they are.  Whoever told you you’re not beautiful is the biggest liar on the earth.”

“It’s the mirror that told me, actually,” Ella snapped, trying to cover her embarrassment.

“I’m afraid it’s wrong,” the voice said.  “Please don’t argue.  I’m not in the mood.”

“All right,” Ella conceded.  “But please, do show yourself.  It’s very unnerving, I simply don’t know where to look!”

“Isn’t it depressing,” the voice said, ignoring her request, “that you can think you’re the centre of the universe, or even quite an important person...but when it comes down to it, you can simply disappear, and nobody really cares.”

“Now, that isn’t true.  I’m sure if you disappeared everyone would be very upset,” Ella said, sternly.  She suddenly felt like it was her duty to cheer this depressed young man up - whoever he may be.

The voice laughed.

“I’m glad you know so much about me,” it said.  “You know more than I do.”  There was a pause.  “I do feel better now, though,” he admitted.

“Well, that’s good,” said Ella, feeling rather at a loss.

“So, you want to be a beautiful princess?” said the voice, suddenly changing the subject.

Ella blushed again.  “It is quite an appealing idea,” she admitted.  “My stepsisters...they mightn’t be beautiful...but they get to go to so many balls and dances...I do get jealous sometimes.”

“Oh really?  So why aren’t you at this ball then?  I’m sure that if your sisters were invited you were too.”

Ella sighed.  “I think my stepmother certainly understands the word hatred.  She treats me as a servant.  My father died years ago...I think she can’t get over the jealousy that he was never very fond of her daughters, but loved me very much.”

“Well, you obviously don’t struggle with feeling like the centre of the universe!” said the voice.  “But if you were mine...I’d put you right at the centre of my world, and never let you leave.”

“Please!  Stop it!” Ella said, blushing furiously, not knowing where to look.

“Well,” said the voice, “I mightn’t be able to let you have parents that love you, and I certainly can’t dress you in a beautiful gown right now, but I think I could possible grant one request.”

“What?” asked Ella.

“You can at least dance with one of the young men...though I wouldn’t swear he was handsome!”

“How?”

“Only if you close your eyes.  I shouldn’t be here, so you can’t see me,” said the voice, and now it was laughing and secretive.

Ella looked around suspiciously.

“Please?” he said.

“All right.”

She stood up, closed her eyes and waited.  She could hear the soft music of a waltz, drifting from the open French windows of the ballroom.  She felt his presence beside her.

“Care to dance?” he asked softly.

“I would love to.”

They danced round the fountain, Ella still with her eyes closed.  She remembered the waltz as she had been taught, many years ago by her dance teacher, before Jemima had arrived, before Ciara and Melissa, and before her father had died.  She felt a tear slip through her closed eyelids, and slide down her cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he said, and she felt the touch of his hand, as light a leaf, brushing the tear away.  It was then that she forgot about her situation, forgot about the fact that she was just an unpaid servant, forgot that she was dressed in what were little better than rags, and just danced.

As the third waltz ended, she felt his breath on her cheek, then his lips touched hers gently.  A shimmer of pleasure ran through her.  She opened her eyes slowly, and looked right into his.  Then her eyes widened

“Lord Fraiser,” she stammered, in shock and amazement.

The spell was broken.  His lips turned up slightly, in the beginnings of a smile, and then Ella turned and ran.  As she ran, the clock struck twelve.  The ball was nearly over.  Her step mother and sisters would be waiting for her.  What would they say if they arrived and she wasn’t there!?

She had only managed to compose herself in the servants room again - some of the other girls looking at her curiously - when she was called.  As she left, something made her glance back.  Callum’s eyes were on her, looking almost desperate.  He looked about to move forward, but then his mother spoke, and the opportunity was lost.  Ella felt her lip tremble, ever so slightly.  Then she felt an arm slip through hers, and a warm hand grasp her own.  She glanced round.  It was Aline.

“As soon as your mother and sisters leave for their walk tomorrow, come to my room.”

It was all she said, but Ella suddenly felt a new sense of hope.

Ÿ

As soon as her step family left the next afternoon for their walk, Ella made her way up the main staircase and knocked gently on Aline’s door.

“Come in,” Aline cried cheerfully.

Ella pushed open the door, and Aline drew her into the room.

“What was it you wanted me for, Lady Aline?” she asked politely.

“This dress,” said Aline, pointing at the bed, “do you like it?”

Ella looked at the exquisite dress laid out on the bed, and nodded enthusiastically - “Why yes, it’s beautiful!  I’m sure it will look lovely on you.”

Aline laughed lightly.

“Oh, it’s not for me!  It’s a little too youthful, don’t you think!?  No, this dress is for you.”

“Me!!?”  Ella gasped - whatever possibilities for Aline’s request to see her had been running through her mind, this hadn’t been one of them.

“Yes.”

“But...but...why?”

“That will become clear in a few minutes,” Aline said, her eyes dancing like a girl’s.  Then she gestured to Ella to take a seat.  “But first, I want to tell you something.  I don’t think you realise quite how important your father was.  He was an eminent and very well respected member of Parliament, on a par with the Fraisers, or the Hillis’, for example.”

Ella looked about to speak, but Aline stopped her with a raised hand, and continued.

“What he died, his money, estate, and title all passed to you.  You are the rightful Lady Marchmont.  I’m afraid that your stepmother took advantage of your youth and grief, to claim all that was yours - supposedly too keep in trust for you until you were older, but really to keep for herself and her daughters.  Now that you are eighteen, you can claim it, and she cannot oppose it.”

“I can hardly take it in,” said Ella weakly.

Aline laughed, “I can assure you, it is very real.  And there’s another thing, which I was instructed, practically on pain of death, to tell you!” she smiled.

Ella looked at her in silence, hardly able to comprehend that there could be more glorious surprises this day.

“A message came, from a young man, who’s about two years older that you.  He claims he used to play with you in the garden...?”  Aline’s eyes twinkled.

“Callum!?”  Ella asked.  Memories flooded her mind - the night before - many years ago as children of ten and twelve - even more years before - at six and eight - they’d been best friends... “Callum!”

“He wants to see you - this afternoon, if possible,” Aline explained.

Ella suddenly felt panicky.  This afternoon!?  But that was now!

“Stay calm,” Aline warned, “and let’s get you dressed...”

An hour later, there was a loud knock on the front door.  After Ella was dressed in her new gown, Aline took her to the front parlour, where she now sat nervously.  Aline bustled to the door quickly, before the butler had a chance to open it.

“Lady Aline,” said Lord Callum Fraiser, making a polite bow.

“Please come in,” invited Aline, and led him into the parlour.

As soon as he saw Ella, Callum’s heart leapt.  She looked even more beautiful in this new gown, than she had the night before, bathed in the moonlight.

“It’s good to see you again, Lord Fraiser...Callum,” Ella said shyly.

Callum knelt in front of her and took one of her hands in his.

“Ella, do you remember last night, when I told you that if you were mine, I’d put you right at the centre of my world, and never let you go?”

Aline withdrew discreetly from the room, as Ella nodded mutely.

“Ella, I’d like to have that chance.  I’ve come here today to ask you to many me.”

Ella was silent for so long that Callum began to babble out of nervousness - “I know we don’t know each other as well as we did...we don’t have to get married right away...but I do love you...I can’t think of a better life than one with you...”

A tear of happiness slid down Ella’s cheek.  “Callum, nothing would make me happier than to be your wife.”

He drew her into his arms.

The sound of someone knocking disturbed them.  Jemima, Melissa and Ciara clattered into the hall, shedding cloaks, parasols and bonnets.

“Jemima, if you’d just come into the parlour a moment,” asked Aline, barely giving them a chance to greet her.  She herded them in.

“Ella!!”  gasped Lady Marchmont in horror.  “What are you doing, dressed up in such a gown!?  Lord Fraiser...you can’t possibly be associating with this chit of a servant girl!  Please come with me - I’ll get cook to make some refreshments.”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Callum.

“Pardon!?”

“Mother,” interrupted Ella, “I have had enough of your treatment.  Not only of your treatment - your theft!  I am claiming my true title - Lady Marchmont.  I’m claiming my  inheritance, which my father left expressly for me!  And I’m claiming my home.  I don’t want to be harsh, so I will give you enough money that should last until you find another means of support.  But I want you, and your daughters, out of my home by tonight!”

Jemima and her two daughters looked at Ella in amazement and shock.  Then they turned as one, and left the room.

“I’ll just go and help them pack,” said Aline, her lips twitching.  She followed them out.

Callum and Ella looked at each other, and suddenly Ella began to laugh.

“I don’t know where I found the strength to do that,” she gasped.  “I have never ever been so scared of anyone in my life as Jemima...but all of a sudden the words just were pouring out of my mouth!”

“It must be love,” said Callum, and swept her into his arms, and kissed her till she was breathless.