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

returned to the house and Ella shook her head. So, that’s why Lady Kenna had been so nice recently. There had been no guilt over what she had done, just worry that Lord Angleton would see. Lord Angleton was one of her father’s dearest friends, who had moved a few townships away around the time her mother died. He had come to her father’s wedding to Lady Kenna, as well as attended her father’s funeral two months later. He had probably specifically mentioned wanting to see Ella. Lady Kenna was all about appearances and it was clear that she wanted them to appear as a happy family to Lord Angleton.
    She went inside and found Lady Kenna standing there with one of Bathilda’s old dresses. Bathilda was next to her looking sour. “Wear this,” Lady Kenna said. “After a few minutes of chatting with him and his son, you are to admit you are not feeling well and excuse yourself to your room. Do you understand?”
    Ella took the dress and nodded. It was the nicest dress Ella had ever been permitted to wear. She wondered what this visit with Lord Angleton was all about. She went to her room, changed and returned to the receiving room, where they all sat, not speaking a word to each other. Soon, there was a knock at the door. Lady Kenna went to answer it and welcomed Lord Angleton.
    Bartholomew Angleton looked exactly as Ella remembered: a tall man with a thick build, a broad smile and cheerful blue eyes. His black hair was now mixed with gray and it made Ella feel momentarily nostalgic for her father. What would he look like now? Would his hair be just as grey, less grey, perhaps more?
    “Little Ella,” Lord Angleton said, heading straight toward her and drawing her into a hug. “You’ve grown so big now. You look so much like Penelope.”
    She enjoyed his embrace, lingering for a moment longer than she should. He felt sturdy and supportive. It was a little like the way she felt when her father had hugged her. It seemed it had been too long since she’d received a loving, fatherly hug. Ella remembered fondly how she used to address her father’s friend when she spoke. “Uncle Bart. That’s kind of you to say.”
    He released her and she noticed another young man enter behind him. It was his son Charles, Ella was sure. Charles was two years older than Ella and when they were children, he had enjoyed showing her the frogs and toads he found in the woods. Now, Charles was the same height as his father, but lean like a pole. He had an awkward gait, a shy smile, freckles and flaming red hair.
    “Charles,” she said, and gave him a gentle smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
    He nodded. Lady Kenna directed everyone to a seat and dominated the conversation, chattering endlessly, their guests too polite to buck against their host’s rudeness. Ella spoke to Lord Angleton once more but not at all to Charles. When Lord Angleton kept trying to inquire of Ella’s life, what it was like, she felt Lady Kenna’s hostile stare. Finally, Ella made her excuse, just like Lady Kenna had asked her to, and said she needed to rest. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, dear,” Uncle Bart said. “But, I brought you a gift. Charles, get the gift for Ella, please.”
    Charles, who’d been carrying a shoulder satchel, reached inside and pulled out a drawing pad and a small wooden box. “It’s drawing coals and pencils,” he said, as he handed it to Ella.
    She felt pure joy at the sight of the gifts and said a heartfelt, “Thank you,” as she accepted them.
    “You still draw?” Bart said.
    “Yes, I do, Uncle Bart,” she said “It was one of the few things my father taught me, so I like to do it still. I appreciate this very generous gift.”
    Bart chuckled, his frame shaking. “Oh, think of Edward when you use it and I shall be happy. I still miss him.”
    “As do I,” said Lady Kenna, standing. She turned to Ella. “Dear, I’d hate for you to fall ill. If you’re not feeling yourself, you should