Cinderella Spell - Laurie Lee Page 0,51
scooted in the adjacent room.
“It’s just me,” Mrs. Boyde called. “Didn’t want to startle you again.”
Marissa crossed to the doorway into the lounging area of her suite. Mrs. Boyde was closing a book. Her smile and steady gaze calmed Marissa.
Mrs. Boyde tucked the slim book into a pocket. Her brows lifted. “You have met her?”
Marissa groaned. “She is beautiful and sweet. Her voice is soft, and I found nothing vulgar in her manners.”
Mrs. Boyde tilted her head. “You think she is likeable?”
Doesn’t matter. Nothing will compel me to like her. Marissa didn’t dare speak her thoughts. Why should she dislike the woman Robert selected as his bride?
Mrs. Boyde smiled. “You have worked hard today to get things ready. Have a rest. I will return before dinner and fix your hair.
Marissa groaned. “I am too wound to rest.”
“That is why I provided a small glass of wine,” Mrs. Boyde motioned to the table beside the bed alcove.
Marissa didn’t think it would work, and yet, found herself being roused a few hours later, much refreshed. She grinned as she stretched. “Are you still here?”
Mrs. Boyde folded a thin blanket Marissa had tossed onto the floor. “I have been about my business and have returned to set you to yours.”
“What business would that be?”
‘A heated bath first. You have a dinner to attend. Your mother has been prodding servants all afternoon.”
Marissa nabbed a robe from the wardrobe beside the water closet. “Why? Embarrassing Cinderella will do none of us any benefit.”
“She thinks she is helping you.”
With that, Marissa went into the bath. She did not lounge long in the rose-scented water. Mrs. Boyde had not yet returned to design her hair, so after wrapping herself in a plush towel she stood next to the door leading onto her balcony. She could just see the edge of the keep to the far left and the pond where she and Robert had learned to fish. Not the sort of thing a girl should do, but she’d been more interested in seeing how far she had to tilt the boat before Robert fell into the water. Memories of his furious attempt to toss her out of the boat while he floundered in the water lightened her mood.
“I know that look.” Mrs. Boyde interrupted. “You’re either remembering a bit of devilry or plotting some.”
“I reminisce, nothing to plot presently.”
“Yet. Have a seat at the dressing table.”
The white desk with four sets of drawers held a variety of hair tools, clips, scarves, wraps, and jewels. Mrs. Boyde selected a set of silver clips and pins.
“I was thinking of wearing the necklace from my father,” Marissa slid her finger over one of the clips. “Will these match?”
Mrs. Boyde brushed through a long lock of her hair, twisting it around a curling rod that had heated in the grate. “I don’t think that necklace is the one to wear tonight. We are doing simple and understated.”
Marissa looked at herself in the scalloped mirror. Mrs. Boyde was pinning her long hair shorter and then using the clips to arrange the curls. “Cinderella’s choices are simple. Would not do for me to make her uncomfortable.”
“You have a kind heart, Mars. Even if you find you cannot like the woman, I do not think you will cause her unease.”
The words weren’t meant as a reproach, but Marissa felt them in her heart. If Cinderella felt she did not belong, she wouldn’t stay, would she? Robert would be hurt, and that she could not bear. Mrs. Boyde finished dressing her hair. Tawny curls framed her face.
“I will wear the brown linen.” Marissa set the fancier dress back in the cupboard. The high-waisted gown had a wide silk ribbon that tied in a bow at her back. She looked pale against the darker fabric. “Will this work?”
Mrs. Boyde raised a brow. “You are charming, as you know.”
Marissa scoffed. “Thank you. I doubt I will earn many compliments once Cinderella is in full form.”
Mrs. Boyde pointed at the clock on the wall. “You will take her to dinner?”
“We are to meet Robert at the stairs.”
Mrs. Boyde took Marissa’s hand. “Take care. Do not let her rankle your peace.”
Marissa squeezed. “I will be my charming self.”
When she arrived at Cinderella’s door, no one answered. She peeked inside and found the room empty. As she turned to leave, a flash of light captured her attention. A small mirror had replaced the middle picture. The size and shape of it were ordinary enough, but looking on it caused her