Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,40

Father said. "At Madame Edith's establishment in Jenn."

"The time was ill spent," I said, "if it delayed our meeting."

Father blushed.

"My niece, Blossom, is at that school. Were you friends?"

The torlin kerru had no influence over my memory, but I hated to say anything that would cause sweet Edmund pain. "She is several years my senior."

"Blossom is almost eighteen, I think. You can't be very much younger."

"I was fifteen in September."

"You are a child." He drew back in his seat I couldn't bear it.

"Not such a child," I said. "Mother married when she was sixteen. If I were to die young as she did, I should like first to have lived, and loved."

The earl leaned toward me again. "You have a loving heart. I see that. More woman than child."

Father coughed and offered the earl a brandy. Then he poured a small amount for me.

Edmund touched his glass to mine. "To the eagerness of youth," he said. "May it always get what it longs for."

When he left, he took my hand. "Tonight I came to visit your father. May I return to see you?"

"You cannot come too soon," I said. "Or too often."

* * *

WHEN MANDY came to kiss me good night, I told her every word the earl had said after I ate the mushrooms. "Isn't he wonderful?" I asked, wanting her to share my happiness.

"He sounds nice enough," she said grudgingly. "Not like your father, the poisoner."

"But Father is wonderful too," I protested.

"Yes, wonderful!" She slammed the door as she left. I fell asleep telling myself stories in which I was the heroine and Edmund the hero. But my last conscious idea was an image of Prince Char when he'd caught the bridle of Sir Stephan's horse. His face had been close to mine. Two curls had spilled onto his forehead. A few freckles dusted his nose, and his eyes said he was sorry for me to go.

* * *

MANDY WOKE me when she had finished her work for the night. I was hard to wake. The torlin kerru still had me in their grip.

"I've been pondering. Sweet, think back. Did Lucinda give you a new gift when she made you happy about being obedient?"

"She didn't say." I closed my eyes and pictured our meeting. "She said,

'Obedience is a marvelous gift... Be happy to be blessed with such a lovely quality.' Why?"

"Ah... it wasn't a new gift, just an ordinary command. Don't be happy about being obedient, Ella. Be whatever you feel about it."

I was happy to obey. No, I wasn't! The room spun. I began to sob from relief mixed with sadness. I had been a begging puppy and a delighted slave, yet I hadn't felt cursed since I met Lucinda. Now I did again.

After Mandy left me, I fell back to sleep and slept late. When I awoke, my head felt heavy enough to sink through the mattress.

The mushrooms! I bolted up in bed, although my temples throbbed. Every moment of the evening before played in my memory. I pounded the pillow in rage at Father for making such a fool of me.

I found a note on the table next to me.

My dear Eleanor,

You are a charming flirt. Woffeck appeared at dawn to request my permission to declare his intentions to you.

I dropped the letter, afraid to read on. If Father wrote I must marry the earl, I would have to do it. If he came home and told me, I'd have to as well. But before he arrived, I could act. Mandy would tell me the letter's contents without making them an order.

I found her in the henhouse, talking to the chickens.

"Up, Secki."

A hen hopped off its roost, and Mandy collected three eggs.

"Thank you." She went on to the next hen. "Up, Acko. I need only one from you." To me, she said, "Do you fancy an omelette?"

I held the eggs while she read the letter.

"Sounds just like his lordship," she said when she finished. "But it's safe to read."

Father had rejected the earl's suit. Upon close questioning, the earl had confessed that most of his property had recently been consumed by fire. He wasn't rich enough for us.

Poor Blossom. Her inheritance wouldn't be worth much, whether or not the earl married.

Father continued,

I haven't time now to find another suitor. But never fear. I shall secure a rich husband for you yet. For now, however, my own neck will have to go into the noose instead of yours.

There is a lady who will wed me, unless