Cinderella Spell - Laurie Lee Page 0,36
a latch. The bottom of the drawer popped open. Elizabeth selected a small opaline pearl from the compartment, closed the lid, and returned the drawer to its rightful place. She dropped the pearl into her pocket.
The knock on her door was not unexpected. Lily, a young serving girl from the kitchens, gave an awkward curtsy. “Lady Marissa asked me to fetch you, Mrs. Boyde. Something about a promise to go horseback riding when there was no one else.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Lily. I will go at once.” Elizabeth stood in the doorway until the girl turned the corner. When she was alone in the hall, she touched a line of silver imbedded in the wood door frame. She’d placed the silver thread from her homeland once she knew the child would remain at the palace. With a touch, her presence would be masked from the witch. She closed the door, traced her finger along the line that blended with the natural grain of the wood, and then stepped back.
As she walked to join Marissa, she frowned at the webs dripped in the corners of the hallway and stairs, although few others would notice. Spells rising to encase the palace were delicate in nature. The witch meant to lure her prey through complacency. By engineering the ball and then running away, Cinderella provided time for her webs to spread.
Marissa leaned out the door of her bed chambers. “There you are, Mrs. Boyde. The sun is up, and this air indoors is stifling.”
Elizabeth faced her beloved charge, grinning. “Eager to escape, are you?”
“You required my promise. Seems fitting I should call for your company.”
Elizabeth waved her arm, indicating Marissa should lead the way. The patter of their feet on the woven runner fit companionable silence.
The request by Marissa’s father for a Guardian came when Marissa was five years of age. For eleven years, Elizabeth had been Marissa’s governess, confidant and friend. She’d comforted the broken child at the death of her beloved father when Lady DeGanne couldn’t manage. She reigned in the escapades before Lady DeGanne ordered her whipped. Elizabeth peered at Marissa. They could be taken for mother and daughter. Marissa was close to her height. They were both slender, though not possessing the regal stature of Lady DeGanne. Marissa’s hair was darker, and she wore it braided to keep the wind from blowing it about as she rode.
They used the grand staircase to get to the foyer. It was on the bottom step Elizabeth felt cold fingers stretching around her once more. She reached into her pocket, pinching the pearl until she felt it break, then rubbing her fingers through the powder.
A large man filled the box station beside the door. He wore the king’s livery, and his hair was trimmed to frame his pudgy face. His eyes were blank, and yet something swirled in their depth.
“The door, good man.” Marissa’s voice reflected her surprise he had yet to move.
With stiff motion, as though unsure what to do, he stepped from the station and pushed through the normal-sized door built into the massive eighteen-foot-high doors. Elizabeth waited until he turned his back on her and then reached out with the hand that had been in her pocket and marked his shirt with powder. “Marissa, dear. Go to the stables and let me speak with this servant. Have them bring our horses here.”
Marissa did not need to be asked twice. She tugged on her skirt and took off with a quick walk. Elizabeth smiled. The younger Marissa would have run. Her smile stopped when she turned back to the stranger. Pain seared his face. Moments he battled, and then blanched. He hurried to the station, grabbing the bucket kept for body relief and vomited. He sagged against the side of the box as he wiped his hand across his mouth.
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she studied him. Cruelty had been part of him once, but whatever happened drove it from him. “Can you manage this post?” She asked him.
He looked around before nodding.
“If the other one comes, do not reveal yourself.” Elizabeth felt certain a second watcher from the witch lurked within Monmoore.
The sound of horses echoed through the open door. Elizabeth rubbed her hands together before pulling on her soft leather gloves for riding. “I will speak with you later.” She nodded at the man.
He blinked, lips tight. “Thank you, Mistress.”
Elizabeth pulled herself onto the pillion, arranging her skirt after hooking her feet in the stirrups.
“I don’t recall seeing him