Free Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3) by Rosetta Bloom Page A

was the exit. They were almost at the end of this labyrinthine tunnel. She sped up, leaving the man behind and walked out the door and into the fresh air, without another word.

Chapter 11
     
    Ella awoke sore and tired. She knew she needed to get up, but she squeezed her eyes tight and rolled over. She’d dreamed of Ash last night. He’d started off kind and gentle, lavishing unbridled passion on her, and then when they finished, he’d offered her to the blond man from last night. Ash had laughed and said, “Have a go at her. She’s quite good.” The dream turned nightmare had forced her awake in the middle of the night. She’d woken with a start, but had managed to go back to sleep. It was a fitful and unrewarding slumber, however, and that’s probably why she was so tired this morning. She felt lost and uncertain. She wanted to talk to Faye. Now that they’d experienced the same thing, she wanted to know if the feelings of shame and unhappiness would go away.
    She sighed, knowing she couldn’t lie here pitying herself. So she tossed off her blanket and opened her eyes and found the sun streaming in. She shot up. It was very late and she hadn’t made breakfast. Lady Kenna was going to kill her. She got out of bed, put on a dress and ran down the stairs, through the main room of the house. In the kitchen, she found Marigold heating water for tea, and shockingly, Lady Kenna and Bathilda were eating yesterday’s bread, along with some marmalade Ella had made.
    “Good morning,” Lady Kenna said cheerfully.
    “I’m sorry I overslept, stepmother,” she said, trying to infuse remorse into her voice.
    “It’s no trouble dear,” Lady Kenna said through a fake smile
    Ella wondered if she were still dreaming. Or was this some type of trick? Lady Kenna was never this nice to her, and neither were the girls.
    She walked past them to the stove, where the kettle hung over the fire. “I can get this, Marigold,” she said. Marigold shrugged and joined her mother and sister at the table.
    “Ella,” Lady Kenna said. “Would you be a dear and make those wonderful muffins you make? This afternoon, we’ll be having a visitor. After you finish your morning chores, I would like to speak with you.”
    * * *
    Ella made the muffins but dared not ask any questions of Lady Kenna. She’d learnt to let whatever mood Lady Kenna was in to play out as it would, and not attempt to change it. When Ella was younger and Lady Kenna was in a temper, Ella would always treat her stepmother with extra kindness. For Ella’s mother, Penelope, had always said that treating a sour person with kindness usually improved their mood. Only her mother had never met Lady Kenna, or perhaps had never been truly hated by someone the way Lady Kenna seemed to hate Ella. Regardless, her mother’s advice didn’t work on lady Kenna.
    Ella dawdled at her chores this morning, knowing that finishing them just meant that she had to see Lady Kenna. She had just milked the cow and was going to feed the chickens when Marigold came out to the barn. Unexpected, but not unheard of. While Lady Kenna and Bathilda felt themselves to be too far above anything they saw as the work of housemaids and laborers, Marigold had a gentler spirit, and was more willing to do what needed to be done. She was much less messy than Lady Kenna or Bathilda and put her things back where they belonged. And if her mother wasn’t around, she’d often do small kindnesses for Ella — something as simple as bringing her dirty dishes from the table, rather than leaving them there for Ella to get.
    Ella smiled. “Hello, Marigold,” she said.
    “Hi, Ella,” her stepsister said, offering a simple smile. “Mother wants you to come clean your hands and face, and come inside to dress for company.”
    “Ah, the company?” Ella asked. “Are you sure she wants me to meet the company? I think I’d prefer to be in my room.”
    “It’s Lord Angleton,” Marigold said. “Do hurry.”
    Marigold