Page 7 of Once Upon a Midnight Clear

“I shouldn’t…” he said.

Ella leaned across the counter and whispered, “Please, sir.”

He shifted from one foot to the other as he ran a hand over his shiny pate. “If you promise?”

“I do.”

He turned from the counter, went into the back and returned a moment later with her items. She took them, grateful he gave them to her and then dashed from the shop before he changed his mind.

How was she going to get a hundred pounds? As she walked down the street, her basket full of goods on her arm, she spied her stepsisters and stepmother coming out the dressmaker’s shop. Both Lucinda and Daniella wore grins, their faces lit with excitement, as they skipped along the street talking about how much they were going to love their new gowns. And one for her stepmother, of course. Nothing for Ella. It wasn’t even a thought.

She watched them for a moment, reminding herself to be kind as all sorts of horrid thoughts came into her mind. She didn’t want to wish ill on anyone, but she hoped Lucinda ended up with a giant pus-filled blemish on the day of the ball. And maybe Daniella would burn her hair when she tried to curl it.

Ella reprimanded herself for her mean thoughts. She was about to step into the street to cross, when a red and gold coach rumbled down the street. It was absolutely ornate with gold trimmings, a footman, a driver, and four white chargers. Ella’s breath caught in her throat as it came to a halt not far from where she stood.

A tall, beautiful woman stepped out with the help of her footman. She wore a magnificent red velvet gown and a matching cloak trimmed in ermine. Her silvery hair was piled high on her head in the latest fashion. Dainty curls framed her face. She had bright blue eyes and lips the color of the red rose. Even her cheeks were rosy. She noticed Ella gaping at her and gave her a bright smile.

“Good morrow, young miss.”

“H-hello.”

“Why, aren’t you a pretty thing.” Her smile was infectious.

Ella glanced down to her worn shoes. “Thank you, but I’m not.”

“Nonsense!”

The woman approached her, looking her up and down with curiosity. When Ella failed to lift her gaze to hers, the woman put a finger under her chin and tipped it up with a gentle nudge.

“I can see into the depths of your deep brown eyes,” the woman said. “I see a lot of heartache.”

Ella’s stomach twisted into a knot.

“But there is also kindness,” she continued. “What’s your name, dearest?”

“Ella,” she said, her voice quiet.

“Ah, a beautiful name to match the girl! Wouldn’t you agree, Percy?” she said to the footman.

“Yes, madam,” the footman replied in a monotone. He never cast a glance toward Ella.

The woman latched her arm around Ella’s. “Dear Percy. He always agrees with me. It’s why I keep him around.”

She laughed, her eyes twinkling with a sort of mirth Ella had never seen before. She liked her right away.

“Now, tell me, dearest Ella. What are you planning to wear to the ball?”

Ella blinked in confusion. Had the woman not seen her ragged dress, her thin shawl, her worn out shoes?

“I-I’m not going.”

“Not going!” She clucked her tongue. “Why not?”

“I don’t have anything suitable to wear, madam.”

“Madam!” She said on a gasp and then a laugh. “You must call me Noella.”

“Oh, but I—”

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