Free Cinderella Six Feet Under by Maia Chance Page A

of the Smythe ladies.
    â€œMadame Brand,” Austorga said, “we have just been apprised of some most stimulating news.” She waved her piece of paper.
    â€œMadame Brand does not wish, you uncouth twit, to hear of all the dull details of the, well,
you
know,” Eglantine said.
    â€œIt is not dull,” Austorga said. “You said yourself you thought you might swoon—”
    â€œOh, for pity’s sake, you ninny!” Eglantine shouted. It was unclear if she was speaking to her sister or to one of the seamstresses.
    The company of Prue’s stepsisters was intolerable. Ophelia had dined enough with them in the past few days to be convinced of it. However, she had questions to ask.
    She sat down next to Mrs. Smythe. Mrs. Smythe did not look up from her book. Ophelia glanced at the top of a page.
Pride and Prejudice
.
    â€œOh!” Seraphina cried. “Do be careful of Réglisse.”
    â€œRéglisse?” Ophelia said.
    A roly-poly black cat yawned beside Ophelia on the sofa.
    â€œGood heavens,” Ophelia said. “I had taken him for a cushion. He is quite . . . well-fed.”
    â€œSurely, Madame Brand,” Eglantine said, “
you
are able to sympathize.”
    â€œSo I can,” Ophelia said. “So I can. My dear, I have been meaning to ask, is there any news in the disappearance of your stepmother, Henrietta?”
    â€œNo,” Eglantine said.
    â€œAnd no arrest of the murderer?”
    â€œ
Must
we speak of this?” Seraphina whispered.
    â€œNo arrest,” Eglantine said.
    â€œAnd no more news of the dead girl’s identity?”
    â€œWhat do we care of that little tart?” Eglantine said.
    Seraphina gasped.
    â€œI do wish you had not torn the letter!” Austorga shouted to Eglantine.
    â€œIt would not have torn if you had simply let
go
, as I instructed!” Eglantine shouted back.
    Seraphina cowered. Mrs. Smythe turned a page of her book.
    â€œ
He
knows that I adore cream-colored paper,” Eglantine said, adopting a dreamy tone. “I told him last week when we sat in his box at the opera.”
    â€œI said that
I
adored cream-colored paper, too!” Austorga said. “I said that cream was my very favorite color for theater programmes.”
    â€œYou said that
Don Carlos
was the dullest opera you had ever attended. You said it made you feel as though you were coming down with paralysis of the mind.”
    â€œNot to
him
.”
    â€œ
I
believed you already
had
paralysis of the—”
    â€œPray tell,” Ophelia said, “of which gentleman do you girls speak?”
    â€œNo one,” Eglantine said.
    â€œPrince Rupprecht,” Austorga said. “Simply the most handsome, cleverest gentleman in all of Europe.”
    Mrs. Smythe suddenly looked up from her book. “
Quite
the eligible bachelor.” She threw an accusing look at her daughter.
    â€œEverything the prince says is so marvelous,” Austorga said, “or so absolutely, hilariously funny that one must simply giggle and giggle and one cannot
stop
giggling.”
    â€œYou sounded like the parrot at the zoological gardens, when he was here for our soirée,” Eglantine said.
    Prince Rupprecht had attended their soirée? He must’ve been either the strapping towhead with all the medals and ribbons, or the burly fellow with the lion’s mane.
    â€œI had so hoped that we would not have to spoil sweet,
precious
Prudence’s stay in our household,” Eglantine said, “for you see, she will not be able to attend the ball on Saturday. It is a private event. If you must know—because I beg your pardon, Madame Brand, but you
do
seem to pry into our family affairs—”
    The little snot.
    â€œâ€”a most fascinating missive came in the post today.”
    â€œAn invitation to the ball?” Ophelia asked.
    â€œNo, no,” Austorga said. “We were invited to the ball ages