Lady Françoise held me tightly for what felt like hours but could only have been a few moments. I could’ve stayed there forever, but she pulled back slightly and tilted my face toward hers. She gasped when she got a look at my face.
“What happened? You are so thin.” Lady Françoise pulled me over to the glow of the château’s torchlight and cupped my face in her hands. “Why are you covered in cinder and ashes?”
It was a little unnerving how intently she looked at me, her kind hazel eyes, so familiar it hurt, roving over my disheveled appearance. I’m sure I got soot on her lovely green dress. But she didn’t seem angry, although she looked tired and wan.
“It’s nothing. Lady Catherine and my stepsisters are at the ball, and I was cleaning the fireplace while they’re gone. I’m sorry if I got your dress dirty.”
“I don’t care about my dress. I care about why you’re home by yourself cleaning the fireplace while your stepmother and stepsisters are at the ball. Didn’t you want to go too?”
“I did. Yes. I actually hoped . . .” I trailed off, unable to admit that I was hoping to find her at the ball. It sounded pathetic when I thought about it, and I was sure I seemed pathetic enough already. “I wanted to go. And Lady Catherine said I could go, and then she and my stepsisters went ahead so they wouldn’t be late. She was supposed to send the carriage back for me, but she never did.”
Lady Françoise stared at me, agog. “She left you behind. On purpose?!”
There was an anger burning in Lady Françoise’s eyes that I’d never seen before. Even though I knew the sharpness of her words wasn’t directed at me, her tone still scared me a little. I nodded my head. She huffed in displeasure, her frown only deepening.
“Is this behavior common for your stepmother?”
I hesitated before answering, sudden doubt making me taciturn. Could I trust Lady Françoise with the truth? After all, she’d abandoned me, not for one night but for an entire year. But it felt so wonderful to be around her again, and she did seem to care about me, if her anger at Lady Catherine’s behavior was anything to go by. My marraine was all I had. Who else could I even hope to trust?
“This behavior is . . . common. That and worse,” I said tentatively.
“I see. You can tell me about the ‘and worse’ while we ride.”
“What do you—”
Before I could finish my question, Lady Françoise grabbed my hand and ushered me into the carriage. I put up no resistance, thoroughly confused. Everything was happening so quickly.
“Adam, we’re leaving,” she said, climbing into the carriage and sliding into the seat next to me.
“Where are we going?”
“To my estate. We need to get you ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For the ball. I will see you dancing in the Hall of Mirrors, no matter what your evil stepmother says.”
Chapter Seventeen
In the darkened interior of the carriage, Lady Françoise wrapped me up in an impossibly soft blanket to soothe my trembling while I told her what had happened over the past year. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as I talked about Papa’s funeral; the dismissal of Marius and Claudine from the château; and my new status as a servant to my stepfamily. The pain in her eyes was evident when I talked about Papa, as was the simmering anger when I told her that Lady Catherine slapped me after my trip to the market.
“That young man you met would be very unhappy to know his actions caused you such pain,” Lady Françoise said, her arm wrapped around my shoulders. “He only wanted to be kind to you.”
“You know him?”
“A little. I saw him at court, and he told me about your meeting at the market. He’s the reason I even knew where to find you.”
I’d hoped to put the mysterious stranger out of my mind forever, but here he was, reemerging at the most unexpected time. And he knew Lady Françoise. But how did he know me, and why would he mention me to Lady Françoise?
“Who is he, then? He seemed familiar when we met, but I couldn’t place him.”
Lady Françoise looked away, suddenly finding the empty fields abutting the little country road supremely interesting. A twinge of doubt hit me. I couldn’t stand when people kept secrets. Papa kept it a secret that he was marrying Lady Catherine, and look how that turned out. I didn’t want whatever was going on between Lady Françoise and the stranger to be equally detrimental to me.
“Marraine? Who is he?”
She turned back to me and said, with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, Cendrillon, but it isn’t my place to say. He hoped you would be at the ball tonight so he could meet you properly and talk things through.”
“But that’s impossible! I would like to go to the ball, of course, but look at me. I’m filthy! And I have absolutely nothing to wear. If I showed up to Versailles looking like this, they would toss me out on the street!”
To my surprise, I did still want to attend the ball, even though I no longer needed to search for my godmother. Now I wanted to go solely to defy my stepmother. I was tired of being subservient to her whims. I was Lady Cendrillon de Louvois, the daughter of Marquis de Louvois, who had been one of the king’s closest advisors. It was my right to attend the ball, whether she wanted me to or not.
“That’s why we’re going to my estate, ma petite. I have so many lovely dresses you can wear, and with how much you’ve grown over the past year, you’re nearly my size. If something doesn’t fit, I’m sure one of my maids could alter it quickly.”
I pulled away from Lady Françoise and leaned my head back on the plush purple velvet cushion behind me. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths to calm my spinning head. I’d been with Lady Françoise for no more than an hour, but it felt like everything I thought I knew was being turned upside down.
“Why did you leave me?” I asked abruptly, the question burning a hole inside my throat until I finally released it into the warm air of the carriage.
I sat up so I could look at her properly while I asked the questions I’d been wishing to know the answers to for so long. My voice was soft, yet firm. Bitter, even. I wanted her to hear the bitterness, to know that she’d hurt me.
“Papa died, and you didn’t come to his funeral. You knew that I was an orphan. That I was alone. And you didn’t come to see me. You didn’t even write me a letter. I thought you didn’t care about me anymore. I’m still not sure.”
I started crying as I spoke. The tears were warm and sticky on my cheeks, and my nose was starting to run, but I had nothing to wipe it with. I was afraid Lady Françoise would be unmoved, but my chest ached when I saw the answering tears in her eyes. She reached over and grasped my hands tightly.