Page 96 of Slippers and Thorns
Ella
C
ould you answer that, please, Jackie?”
Jackie quickly pinned the lock of hair she was coiling. “Of course, Your Highness,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried off to the sitting room to see to the person knocking at the door.
Ella looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was only half done, but the mass of golden coils would be beautiful once Jackie finished. She would tell Jackie not to bother with something so ornate, but there was a special brunch she had to attend.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” she heard Jackie say with a bit more coolness than deference. Ella winced. She appreciated the loyalty, but she didn’t want her maid to get in trouble.
“Good morning, Jacqueline. Would you mind stepping down the hall for a few minutes? I’d like to speak to Arabella alone.” Michael spoke quietly, but his voice sounded rough.
“Of course, Your Highness,” the maid replied stiffly. There was the sound of footsteps, and then the door clicked gently closed.
Ella didn’t bother to look over at the bedroom door as he entered. She might be straightening his room again, but that didn’t mean she felt like talking to him.
“Good morning, Arabella,” he said softly.
She glanced up. His hair was disordered, and although she hadn’t been paying attention, she thought he was wearing the same clothes as the day before. His eyes were only about half open, but he wasn’t looking at her. In his hands, he held a packet of papers.
“Good morning,” she responded, pursing her lips. “To what do I owe this…pleasant surprise?” She eyed him again. “I didn’t notice you at dinner last night. Where were you?”
He grinned sheepishly. “I fell asleep watching the snow.”
“Really?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Yes, really.” Michael looked down at the papers in his hand. “Uh…Helena…Helena came to see me yesterday. She brought me something to—to sign.”
Ella’s heart sank all the way to her toes. Michael was close enough that she could see the heading on the top sheet as it hung from his hand. It was difficult to read the calligraphy upside down, but if she had to guess, the “D” and “M” were the start of “Dissolution” and “Marriage”.
She clenched her jaw and frowned to keep her lip from quivering. Dropping her eyes to her lap, she managed, “So are you here to tell me to pack my bags?”
“What?” Michael startled. His eyes flew to hers. “No, of course not!”
Ella did not think “of course not” was appropriate for the situation. “Then why are you here, Michael?” she whispered hoarsely.
He looked away again. “It only requires one signature.” Setting the papers on her dressing table, he turned and ran a hand through his hair while the other slipped into his pocket. Ella carefully slid the top sheets aside so she could see the line that would determine her fate.
It was blank.
Her eyes shot to his, but he still wasn’t meeting hers. “I know I’ve been a…a pretty poor husband lately. I would have thrown that into my fire last night, but I…I didn’t want to take the choice away from you. Since Helena went to the effort to draw up the documents.”
Ella’s jaw dropped. He was giving her the option to sign them herself? What made him think she would?
Going down on one knee before her, Michael took a deep breath and finally met her gaze. “In addition to my obvious failures in parading about with Lady Ilse and Lady Charlotte and…all that I let happen with Helena, it has recently been brought to my attention that I have neglected you in favor of my work. I have wronged you more than I thought myself capable of wronging anyone. I’m sorry, Arabella, deeply sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for flaunting my anger by chasing other women. I’m so, so sorry for not setting Helena straight immediately. And I’m sorry for not valuing you above my duties.”
Her heart twisted at the anguish in his voice and face, both of which spoke to his earnestness. Ella clasped her hands together in her lap as she prayed it wasn’t all an act.
“I know I don’t deserve it, Arabella—Ella—but will you please forgive me?” Setting one tentative hand on her knee, he continued, “Please. I’ll do better, I promise.”
“Do you really mean it?” she asked through her thick throat.
“I do,” he assured her solemnly. Then he drew his other hand out of his pocket and held it out to her palm-up.
Her hands flew over her mouth as she gasped. Tears began to fill her eyes as she reached out a shaky hand to lift the bead necklace he offered her. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t,” he confessed. “I had it on good authority that you would like it, but I don’t know why.”
