Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story (21 page)

Jemima chuckled. “Now
that
is inappropriate, my lord! Until you are married, Cynthia couldn't possibly stay at Ridgeley Manor. Tongues would wag, people would make assumptions. Imagine the damage to her reputation!” She tugged the earl's hand away from her stepdaughter. “We need to return to Montforth Hall. At once.”

As her stepmother whisked her away, Cynthia frowned at her fiance. Everything was happening so quickly, Cynthia was petrified; her thoughts were thoroughly muddled. Staying at her fiance's estate did not seem like an acceptable option, nor did she wish to return to Montforth Hall. Try as she might, she could not think of a suitable solution to her problem. “I'm sorry, James. I'm so sorry!” she exclaimed.


If you need to see her, my lord, you are more than welcome to call on her tomorrow,” Jemima assured him. “In fact, I fully expect you to come. We have much to discuss, I am sure... such as her dowry.”

Dowry?!
As if her stepmother ever intended to give her a dowry!

Jemima dragged Cynthia into the ballroom, where she hoped the earl would have sense enough not to make a scene. Leaving Lord Charmington behind, Jemima located Georgiana, who erupted with a snake-like hiss when she saw her stepsister's face.


They were together, weren't they, Mama?!” Georgiana exclaimed.

Jemima glanced over her shoulder, making sure the earl had not followed them. She did not want her daughter to make a scene any more than she wanted the earl to make a scene. Any breech of civility would not reflect well on the family. “Georgiana... until we are in the carriage,
please
mind your tongue.”


But it's true, isn't it?! You found them together?!”

One of Jemima's hands encircled Cynthia's wrist; her other hand prodded her daughter. “This is a discussion for another time, dear.”


And what
are
you doing here, Cynthia?!” Georgiana gasped. “You were not permitted to come!”


Hush, Georgiana,
hush
!” her mother insisted. She led her daughter and stepdaughter out of Ridgeley Manor as quickly as she could. The sooner they were alone, the sooner she could unleash her wrath. When she found their carriage, she yanked open the door and motioned for Cynthia to get inside.


No!” Cynthia exclaimed. “I'm not leaving!”


And what other option do you have?” Jemima gave her stepdaughter a push, urging her into the carriage. “You can't stay here, can you? If you stay with Lord Charmington before you are married, someone might assume you are his mistress! You wouldn't want that, would you?”


And what is my alternative?!” Cynthia tried to climb out of the carriage, but Jemima held onto her arm. “I can only imagine what you might have in store for me once we return to Montforth Hall!”


Don't be so overdramatic, dear,” Jemima said. “Lord Charmington has already fallen for you. The damage is done. What more could I possibly do?!”

When the carriage started moving, Georgiana squealed, “He's fallen for
Cynthia
?! What do you mean, Mama?!”


It seems our beloved Cynthia has been sneaking behind our backs, Georgiana,” Jemima calmly explained. “Unless he managed to fall for you in a single night, you must have been cavorting with him for some time. I am so ashamed of you, Cynthia.”


As if I care!” Cynthia shrieked. Miraculously, she had found her backbone—she was actually standing up to Jemima! If only she could have stood up for herself when James was with her! “When we're married, there's nothing more you can do to me!”


Married?!” Georgiana hollered. “You're getting married?! He proposed to
you
?!”


He did,” Cynthia proudly announced. “He's in love with me!”


Mama!” Georgiana immediately dissolved in a fit of vapors. As she wailed, she buried her face against her mother's shoulder. “Mama, please tell me it isn't true!”


I am afraid it might be true, Georgiana.” Jemima gave her daughter's hair a comforting caress. “Lord Charmington has chosen Cynthia.”


Noooooo!!!” Georgiana's body was wracked by a monstrous sob. “No, it can't be true! It can't be true! It cannot! I LOVED him!”


There there, dear...”


This is the WORST day of my LIFE!” Georgiana lifted her head from her mother's shoulder, but only for a moment, so she could glower at her stepsister. “I HATE you!”

Cynthia simply shrugged. She already knew they hated her. It was nothing she had not heard before.

As she stroked Georgiana's hair, Jemima whispered in her ear, “
Don't worry, dear. We will have the last laugh
...”

Her mother's promise temporarily ceased Georgiana's sobs. However, when they arrived at Montforth Hall, and she saw the smug look on Cynthia's face, Georgiana had a second breakdown. She cried convulsively, whimpering and wailing as she stumbled from the carriage. When she was on her feet, she nearly slipped on the icy ground. As they journeyed home, it had started to rain—and the rain had turned to sleet.

Cynthia climbed from the carriage and headed toward the house. Before she could get very far, Georgiana grabbed her arm and screamed at her. “HE LOVED ME! I know he loved ME!” She tried to drag Cynthia to the ground, but she managed to stay on her feet. “If you didn't exist, we would be together!”


Girls,” Jemima cautioned them. “Girls, please. Don't scuffle!”


I hate you!” Ignoring her mother, Georgiana pulled Cynthia's hair. In her defense, Cynthia gave her stepsister a shove. “I hate you, I hate you, and I wish you would die!”


It isn't my fault that he fell in love with me, Georgiana. It isn't my fault that you are intolerable and unlovable!”


Urrrrrrrrrgh
!” Georgiana plowed her hands into Cynthia's midsection, shoving her as hard as she could. Cynthia's foot skidded against the slippery ground; she fell to her knees. When she did, her reticule flew at Georgiana's feet, and Georgiana stomped on it.


Georgiana! Sweetheart!” Jemima tried to calm her daughter's fury. “I know you hate her. As do I. But please... have some restraint!”

Georgiana plucked Cynthia's reticule from the ground and tore it open, scattering its contents. When she saw Cynthia scrambling to her feet, Georgiana gave her another shove, which made her land on her face. “What's this?!” Georgiana bent down to pick up a slip of paper: Lord Montforth's
I LOVE YOU
note. Her eyes scanned the words, then she showed it to her mother. “I think Lord Charmington has been giving her love letters!”


Give that back to me!” Cynthia hissed. She tried, a second time, to rise to her feet. When she did, Georgiana kicked her shins. Georgiana knew her behavior was as far from ladylike as it could possibly be, but she did not care. At the moment, the only thing that mattered was exacting revenge on her nemesis.


Is this a love letter from Lord Charmington?” Jemima asked. “Has he been giving you inappropriate letters? Knowing what I know now, I would not put it past him...”


It is not from him!” Cynthia leapt to her feet and tried to snatch the letter from her stepmother's hand, but Jemima was too fast. She held the letter in the air, and Georgiana gave Cynthia another push. “It's from my father!
Please
hand it back to me!”


From my husband?” Jemima raised an eyebrow. “Really?”


It was the last thing he wrote before he died! It gives me strength!” She tried to grab the letter, but Jemima held it high; she was a much taller woman than her diminutive stepdaughter. “Please, Jemima, please! If you care about me at all...”


I do NOT care about you at all!” As she screamed the words, Jemima tore the I LOVE YOU note in half.

And she didn't stop there. She tore it into tiny pieces, tossed the shredded letter to the ground, and smashed it into the mud.


No!” Cynthia dropped to her knees beside the mutilated letter. “No, no, no, no, no!”


The last remnant of your father is gone, Cynthia. But why should you care?!” Jemima hissed. “From now on, you will have Lord Charmington to comfort you!”

Georgiana grinned at her mother. Her tears had stopped, and they were replaced by pin prickles of elation. Her entire body shuddered with joy over her stepsister's misery.


You are my hero, Mama,” Georgiana said. “An absolute hero!”


Thank you, Georgiana. Now... let us go inside, shall we?” Jemima took her daughter by the arm and led her away from Cynthia, who continued to sob over her father's ripped letter. “Oh... and Cynthia? From now on, you will be barred from Montforth Hall. If I have my way, you will never set foot inside these walls again!”


Are you serious?!” Cynthia shrieked. The freezing rain had already chilled her lips to the point where she could not feel them. “I'll catch my death out here!”


And that would be wonderful!” Georgiana shrilled. “Come, Mama... I'm cold. I want to wrap myself in a cluster of warm blankets!”

As she watched them walk away, Cynthia screamed, “You're evil! Both of you! You're evil through and through!” Her angry words would not save her from her predicament, but they made her feel better.

But not by much.

Her legs were already going numb.

Chapter Twenty Three

Cynthia ran to the front door and tried to pull it open. Not surprisingly, it was already locked.


Solomon!” She pounded on the door as hard as she could, hoping the old butler would come to her aid. “Solomon, please! Solomon!” Cynthia hovered around the front of Montforth Hall for several seconds, but the door never opened. Either Solomon had retired for the night, or he had chosen to ignore her plea.

Cynthia hurried to the side of the manor: the servants' entrance. “Tess!” As she shouted for her roommate, she tried to peer into one of the windows. Everything inside was pitch black; Tess was probably asleep. “TESS!” She waited in the freezing rain for a few minutes, praying the door would open, but no one came to her rescue.

She ran to the opposite side of the house, where Edith's bedchamber was on the second floor. “
Edith
!” As she cried her stepsister's name, Cynthia's lips clamped together. If no one else would help her, Edith most certainly would—but at what cost? In her rage, what if Jemima turned Edith out of Montforth Hall as well? Cynthia did not want to subject her sweet stepsister to a fate that was similar to her own.

There was one other place she could find shelter: the stables. Huddling under a horse blanket had to be better than shivering in the sleet. Unfortunately, the former was not an option, as the stables had been locked for the night. She tugged the door with all her might, and even dealt it a swift kick. She spent the next few minutes trying to force her way inside, but it was impossible. Even the windows, if she was to shatter one, were too narrow to climb through.


I should have never stepped into the carriage...” Cynthia hugged herself. As the words passed through her benumbed lips, a cloud of white air swirled around her mouth. It was so cold, she could see her breath. “I should have never gone back to Montforth Hall with Jemima and Georgiana. I should have stayed with Lord Charmington... he would have protected me.”

Coiling her arms around her trembling body, Cynthia started in the direction of Ridgeley Manor. Her fiance's estate was several miles away, but it was her only option. Staying under his roof might have been a danger to her reputation, but she was in no position to quibble. A danger to her reputation was less of a threat than a danger to her life.

As she continued forward, the rain pounded her head, and a bit of hail bounced off her shoulder. Her toes were frozen, encased in paper-thin slippers. It was a miracle she could keep walking, because she had lost all sense in her deadened legs. More than once, she nearly collapsed to the ground, but her desire to see her fiance's face was enough to keep her moving forward.

Several minutes into her journey, the had rain stopped, but her panic did not. Cynthia squatted on the dirt path and hugged herself tighter. She tried to rub her arms, to create some friction, but her fingers were like icicles. Tears fell from her eyes, rolled down her cheeks, and when they reached her chin, they had nearly turned to ice.

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