Page 97 of Slippers and Thorns
Ella turned it over in her hands, stroking it. “The last thing my father gave me before he died was a bead necklace just like this one,” she said softly. “My stepmother pawned all of my jewelry, though. At first, I thought I’d be allowed to keep his final gift – it wouldn’t fetch a high price – but when she realized I still had it, she took it, too.”
Michael furrowed his brow. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I could have—”
Shaking her head, Ella told him, “She didn’t bother making the payments on any of it. She didn’t even keep the claim tickets. It was all lost years ago.” She squeezed the warm hand on her knee. “Thank you, Michael, for giving this to me.” Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
It was only a quick kiss, merely a peck on the lips, but his eyes lit up. He reached for her, but she pulled back, shaking a finger at him. “I’m still mad at you,” she scolded faintly, her voice quivering. “This doesn’t erase everything you’ve done.”
“I know,” he sighed. “And I’m so sorry.”
“I believe you,” she told him softly. “And I’ll work on forgiving you. But it’s going to take time.”
Closing his eyes, he hung his head. “I know.”
“Well,” Ella said, after a minute of silence, “I suppose I should call Jackie back to finish my hair, and you still need to get ready for the brunch.” He looked up, startled, as if he’d forgotten the social engagement. She leaned over and picked up the papers from her dressing table. Holding them out, she said, “Could you take care of these for me, please?”
“With pleasure,” he replied with a small smile. Taking them from her grasp, he traversed the few short steps to the fireplace and tossed them in. They both watched as the edges caught, curling up as the flames ate away at the light fuel. In a few minutes, there was nothing left but a pile of ash on the cheerily-burning logs.
It wouldn’t prevent new documents from being created in the future, but the current threat was past. If they chose to learn from their mistakes, though; if they chose to stay committed, even when it was hard, and chose to love each other regardless of their feelings; if they forgave each other for their mistakes – that would.
“Michael,” Ella said as he moved to leave. Michael paused, turning to face her. “I’m sorry, too. About Charlie. He really is just a good friend. But…after I saw you and Helena in the hedge maze…I was so hurt, and I just wanted to run as far as I could and never stop. And I—”
“It’s okay,” Michael said, his mouth twisted. “I understand. I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I understand. As long as you don’t do it again, of course.”
Ella shook her head. “Of course not. He may be a good man, but you’re my husband. And despite the last few months, you’re a good man, too.”
Michael walked back to her. He lifted one hand, hesitated, but then reached out and gently combed it through the loose hair on the left side of her head, and she let him. “Thank you, Ella,” he murmured.
“You’d better go get ready,” Ella reluctantly reminded him. He nodded, but didn’t move. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to mess up Jackie’s hard work,” Ella said half-heartedly.
“I don’t think she’ll mind, given the circumstances,” he whispered as he leaned closer and dug his fingers deeper across the back of her skull.
Then he closed the remaining distance and gently pressed his lips to her own. It was lingering, but short, as if respectful of their not-quite-restored relationship.
And this time, Ella let him.
CHAPTER 41
Ella
A
few days later, the Ralnoran delegation “finished their negotiations” and departed for home. Helena was about as pleasant as the storm clouds lowering overhead, pouting and scowling at everyone who came her way, but Axel was in such a good mood that he treated them to a full five-minute farewell aria. His enthusiasm was infectious, especially to his horse, which pranced and jogged sideways down the road. His sister’s horse, similarly affected by her mood, snorted and tossed its head and stamped as it walked along behind him.
Ella pulled her cloak tighter against the chill in the wind. Turning to Michael, she sniffed, “She’s a princess, andshegets to ride her horse instead of in a carriage.”
“Yes, but she was also determined to steal someone else’s husband because she was convinced that they were each other’s true love,” he pointed out, leaning towards her. “Are you really sure you want to use her as your example?”
Ella sighed. “No, I suppose not. Not completely, anyway. But can’t I copy her mode of travel?” she begged.
Michael laughed. “I suppose we can take it up with Father. But I make no promises!”
She gave him a slight smile, then returned to watching the Ralnorans as they cleared the courtyard.
“The poor thing. She has a lot of growing up to do.”
Ella jumped at the voice behind her. Turning, she found a familiar white-haired woman gazing after the departing delegation, a far-off look in her eyes.
“Edna! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed. For some reason, Michael stiffened next to her.
