Happily Never After Read online

  Happily Never After

  Sonya M. Black

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, either living or deceased, is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.

  Copyright © 2013 Sonya M. Black

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1490453927

  ISBN-10: 149045392X

  DEDICATION

  To my husband who encouraged me, laughed with me, and spent many hours talking me through my happily ever after.

  To my son, who inspires me daily.

  To the angels, who stepped up to help make my happily ever after a reality by revising and editing with me.

  To all of you who encouraged and cajoled me into taking the leap into the world of writing.

  CONTENTS

  1

  Happily Never After

  2

  A Lesson in Fairy Godmother

  3

  Bibbity-Bobbity-Boom

  4

  The Making of a Lady

  5

  Revenge of the Fairy Godmother

  6

  And the Adventures Are Just Beginning…

  7

  A Princely Surprise

  8

  Memories of the Past

  9

  A Pinch of Fairy Dust

  10

  The Great Forest

  11

  What a Troll Likes for Breakfast

  12

  True Love’s Kiss

  13

  A Rose by Any Other Name

  14

  The Golden City

  15

  Lions and Tigers and Ogres, Oh My!

  16

  A Charming Prince

  17

  Cave of Wonders

  18

  Hunted

  19

  The Wandering Wizard

  20

  The Heart of the Matter

  21

  Writing a New Ending

  22

  A Full Moon and Pixies

  23

  Happily Ever After

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peak

  About the Author

  1 – HAPPiLY NEVER AFTER

  Ella trudged down the road, head down and shoulders sagging. Her fairy godmother had promised her a happy ending, but she had lied. Two nights ago Ella spun through the ball dressed in a gown of diaphanous silk and glass slippers. Prince Charmaine had literally swept her off her feet, waltzing her through the ballroom under a chandelier of pink fairy lights. The clock had struck midnight and as she had promised her fairy godmother, Ella had fled down the stairs and out into the night. Her pumpkin coach had disintegrated half way home, which meant she had to walk the rest of the way in her glass slippers. Her stepmother and stepsisters were there when she got home, waiting to dole out punishment for her disobeying the order to stay home. They tore her lovely dress to shreds, smashed the glass slippers, and threw her out of the house with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a pair of worn work boots.

  She should have been glad, having spent the last twelve years as their slave, cooking, cleaning, and sewing for them. She loathed them for what they had done to her and her father. Her stepmother’s greed bled the estate dry, leaving grapes to wither on the vine since they couldn’t afford to hire workers to pick them. Her stepsisters were spoiled, shallow tarts who would never be able to find husbands because no one could stand to be around them. Ella’s anger at being thrown out had fizzled after her first night sleeping under the hedgerow. Instead, she became sad because she was leaving behind everything that reminded her of her father. He had been a kind, gentle soul full of laughter and joy. At least he had been until her mother died. He became somber and withdrawn after that. She guessed he had married the evil witch known as her stepmother because he thought Ella needed a woman to teach her how to be a Lady. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  The sound of a carriage approaching startled her out of her reverie. She stepped to the side of the road, careful to give the carriage plenty of space.

  “Whoa, driver,” a deep, hearty voice called out. “I say, man, hold up.”

  The open carriage came to a rumbling halt alongside Ella. She glanced up to see a large, middle-aged man with untamed salt and pepper hair. He wore a crimson waistcoat with shiny gold buttons. “Ella Winslow, is that you?” He climbed out of the carriage to stand in front of her. “What the blazes are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  Ella stared at the man, trying to recall who he was and why he looked familiar. “Umm….” she muttered, afraid of saying something that would offend him.

  “What’s wrong, girl? Cat got your tongue?” He jabbed at her with his walking cane, poking her gently in the leg.

  Ella stared at her feet. “No sir,” she whispered.

  “Speak up, child,” he groused. “I’m not going to bite.” His deep voice and thick brogue reminded her of her childhood and many evenings spent curled by the fireside listening to fairy stories.

  She cleared her throat. “No sir,” she repeated a little louder.

  “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing out here all alone?” His rumbling voice took on a kinder tone, though still firm.

  She glanced up, sure that he was going to poke or hit her with his cane again. “My stepmother threw me out.”

  “Bah.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward his carriage. “That stupid, wretched crow needs to get what’s coming to her.” He pushed her up into the open seat, ignoring her noises of protest and settling himself opposite from her. He tapped his cane twice, and the carriage jolted forward. “Your father was a dear friend. I’ll be buggered if I let his child wander willy-nilly through the countryside.”

  She stared at him in amazement, unsure whether or not she should be screaming for help or grateful for the rescue. She watched the countryside speed by, late spring’s blankets of color draped the open meadows and the long lines of green rich vineyards, thick with grapes. Ella’s father’s land had been one of the premier vineyards in the country until her stepmother had come. Sadness settled over her as she thought about the dying vineyard at home and the many hours she had spent running up and down the vine covered rows. The nights spent pressing grapes while singing and telling stories by bright moonlight.

  “Two nights ago you were the toast of ball.” The man touched her ankle with his cane to get her attention. “I would have thought we would be hearing about your engagement to the Prince by now.”

  “My stepmother found out,” she stated simply, avoiding looking in his direction.

  “So.” He nudged her again, sharper this time. “Go to the castle and see the Prince. Rumor has it he is looking for you.”

  She smiled sadly. “Would you let me see the Prince looking like this?” She grimaced, motioning to her tattered clothes and hole-riddled shoes.

  He harrumphed. “You do have a point. Do you want to see the Prince?”

  She stared at him, incredulous that this stranger would even bother with her. “Why do you care? Who are you?”

  He grinned. “Sir Alastair Leandres at your service.” He gave a small seated bow. “I’ve known you since you were no bigger than a minute. Your father and I had great plans for that vineyard of his. After your mother died, George gave up on the business. He signed over the running of it to me. I came around for a while to see you and check up on him. Then he married that harpy, and she ran me off. Literally had me chased off with some ridiculous story that I was stealing from your father. ”

  Ella watched him, looking for something recognizable. She glanced down at
the pocket watch dangling from a golden chain at his waistcoat. “I used to play with that.” She gestured toward the accessory.

  He chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he watched her. “Yep, after a long day of flying kites and chasing water sprites, you would curl up by the fire with my watch. You always fell asleep with it.”

  Ella smiled at the flood of memories. “I remember.”

  The carriage pulled to a stop in front of a massive, wrought iron gate set in a tall stone wall. Ivy clung to the wall, breaking over the ancient gray stone like a wave of green. The gates swung open, slowly giving way to a manicured estate with a massive castle. It put the Prince’s castle to shame. Ella’s eyes widened slowly as they drove down the white-graveled lane and up to the pristine marble steps leading up to the castle’s entrance.

  “You live here?” she whispered in disbelief.

  He grinned as he gestured grandly. “Yes, my dear. Welcome to Castle Beaumont, your new home.”

  Ella gaped in amazement at the opulent surroundings. White marble glistened in the late-morning sun. Alastair led her inside, where white marble gave way to gray and black marble laid out in a star pattern on the floors. A huge crystal chandelier hung in the entrance, glittering like icicles on a bright morning. Deep-blue velvet runners lined the twin staircase that led up to a second floor. At the door a swarm of servants whisked her away to a suite of rooms where they bathed, measured, and dressed her.

  She found herself clothed in a soft silk dress, seated in a small parlor on a satin covered sofa, sipping a cup of tea and waiting for the master of the house. Her head spun; she was having a hard time making sense of what had happened. One minute she had been walking down the dusty road with no hope for her future, and the next she was dressed like a Princess and sitting in a castle.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror that hung over the fireplace. She didn’t recognize the beautiful woman dressed in green silk, her dark-brown hair piled high on her head, held in place by a fine gold comb, and pearl-drop earrings dangling from her ears. It was as if she were looking out of a stranger’s eyes. She studied her delicate cheekbones and round face, amazed by her reflection.

  “Well, well, well.…” A smooth baritone voice interrupted her musings. “Look what my father dragged home. It’s just like him not to tell me we have a guest.” A tall, dark-haired man stepped out from the shadows and bowed in front of her. “Jarret Leandres at your service.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it gently, his bright-green eyes catching and holding hers.

  Ella swallowed nervously. “Umm…hello,” she whispered, unable to find her voice. She eyed the stranger, finding his features familiar and at the same time unknown.

  “So what brings you to our lovely home?” Jarret plopped himself onto a loveseat, set his feet on the table, and leaned back to observe her.

  “Your father found me on the road.” She cleared her throat nervously, uncomfortable with the very direct way he was looking at her.

  His mouth curved into a little smile. “So you’re a stray then.”

  She narrowed her eyes at his comment. “My father used to be his business partner. He used to come by and visit –”

  Jarret sat up straight, interrupting her mid-sentence. “You’re Ella.” He laughed, clapping his hands gleefully, his green eyes twinkling. “We used to play together when you were little. You probably don’t remember.”

  At his words she did remember. She tried to reconcile the gangly teenager who used to sneak her sweets when Mother wasn’t looking with the handsome man who sat across from her. “I remember that you used to bring me chocolate from town, and you snuck it to me in the stables. We used to hide in the hayloft –“

  “And we would eat candy until our stomachs hurt.” Jarret chuckled. “You do remember. I saw you at the ball.”

  Ella shrugged, uncomfortable. “I’m sure a lot of people saw me at the ball. It’s why your father found me walking down the road.”

  “The evil toad threw you out,” he guessed, sitting back once more to watch her. “What happened? How did you get invited to the ball?”

  She sighed. The truth would come out eventually. “I didn’t. Stepmother forbade me from going. I was in the garden crying after she and my stepsister left because I really wanted to go. That was when she came. Stupid fairy godmother.” Ella felt a tear start to trickle down her cheek. “She promised me a happily ever after, and she gave me a happily never after instead.”

  “Oooh,” Jarret sympathized. “You got whammied by a fairy godmother. Bad luck there.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. “I don’t believe in happily never afters. There is always a happy ending if you write your own story.”

  Ella smiled around her tears. “And how do I go about writing my own story?”

  “For a start we fix the mess your fairy godmother put you in.” Jarret grinned. “Luckily my family has made it their business to do just that.”

  2 – A LESSON IN FAIRY GODMOTHER

  Ella stared at Jarret in disbelief. “How exactly are you going to help me? Why?”

  He chuckled at her reaction. “My father didn’t tell you what kind of business we’re in, did he?”

  “Wine. He mentioned he was partners with my father in the wine business.” Ella ran her fingers over her dress, trying to calm herself.

  “Nope.” Jarret shook his head, his tone slightly condescending. “Guess again.”

  She shrugged. “Then I have no idea.” She felt a little peevish at this point. He was being very frustrating. “You’re a fairy godmother repair agency.…” She trailed off.

  He laughed. “Good guess. Actually we’ve made quite the fortune fixing fairy godmother curses.”

  “I can’t pay you. I don’t have anything.” She avoided looking at him, tears pricking in her eyes as she thought about what a mess she was in.

  “No, Ella.” Jarret’s voice was firm as he stopped her. “You are part of the family. We aren’t asking for payment.”

  “I don’t understand,” she murmured, fiddling with the delicately embroidered handkerchief. “Why? No one ever tried to help me before.”

  Jarret rose quickly, crossing the distance between them with one large step. He knelt in front of her, taking her hands gently in his, forcing her to look at him. “Ella, my father has been waiting for the perfect moment to rescue you from your stepmother. He swore after your father’s death to find a way to help you.”

  Ella felt her cheeks turn red. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to respond. “I didn’t know.”

  He gave her hands a squeeze as he joined her on the sofa. “I know this seems like it is out of the blue, but it really is just a continuation of a very long story.”

  Ella sighed, sitting back and arranging herself so she could watch Jarret. “All right, why don’t you start at the beginning?”

  He smiled at her, the familiar grin sparking feelings of safety and comfort in her. “Okay. It all started after your mother died. We used to visit your family at least three times a week. Your father became withdrawn. One night shortly before your stepmother came, he told my father he had made a wish, which a fairy godmother granted. A few days later, he met and married your evil step-toad.”

  “My father had a fairy godmother?” Ella shook her head. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  He waggled a finger in warning. “Have a little patience. So….” He paused dramatically. “Your father made his wish, which the fairy godmother granted. Here’s the problem with fairy godmother magic: sometimes their spells have unintended side effects.” He waited to make sure she was following along. “Your father wished for someone like your mother, who could raise you to be a Lady.” Jarret took hold of one of her hands, running his thumb over the calluses formed by years of servitude. “He got a Lady who would raise his daughter to be a servant.”

  She pulled her hand back, uncomfortable with the reminder that she was not a Lady and never would be. “She didn’t treat me like
that while he was alive,” Ella reminded him.

  He snorted derisively. “Of course not. She had to be sure he would keep her around. Anyway, once a fairy godmother grants a wish, she ties herself to that family line until one of her spells eventually finds a happy ending. That can take generations if the wrong fairy godmother gets involved.”

  Ella stared at him, her brain piecing together the puzzle. “So once my father died the fairy godmother waited for me to make a wish, and then she granted it with the unintended consequence of – ”

  “You getting kicked out by the very woman who was supposed to be your father’s happy ending.” Jared shrugged. “My father has devoted his life to finding victims and helping them break the fairy godmother curse.”

  Ella was skeptical. “How do you break a fairy godmother curse?”

  “Easy. You write your own ending.” Jarret grinned mischievously. “What kind of ending would your write for yourself, Ella?”

  She stared at her hands, roughened by years of washing dishes, scrubbing floors, and doing laundry. She was not a Lady; she did not have a Lady’s perfect manners. She could read and write, and she knew how to manage a household, but she did not have the slightest clue how to rub elbows with the gentry. The knowledge and grace her fairy godmother had granted her had fled as soon as the clock had struck midnight.

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I’ve never known how to be anything other than a little girl and then a servant. What else is there?”

  Jarret cocked his head to one side, silently observing her for a moment. A slow grin spread across his face. “Well, it’s about time you learned. You got a taste of it at the ball. What did you think of that?”