Cinderella

by: Tiger Lily21

A/N: This story is not finished. I started it yesterday but didn't get a chance to finish it. Heck, I didn't even get into the main part of the story yet! I'd finish it today but I haven't written today's story yet and I want to get that one done. I'm leaving this one unfinished. After NaNoWriMo is over I'll go back and finish it. For now I'm including an outline at the end of where I intended it to go and I hope you'll enjoy what I have so far. Look for "The Frog Prince" sometime tonight hopefully. Thanks to those who have been faithfully reading and reviewing. You inspire me to keep going!


Christine Lewis loved the kitchen. She loved the sounds and smells. She loved the way everything fit together, the way all the people moved in harmony. She loved the way she felt when she was kneading dough or stirring a pot or even just scrubbing dishes. The rhythm of it all was just beautiful. It was a song--the song of the kitchen--and Christine loved it.

The only problem was that Christine was not usually supposed to be in kitchen. She was the daughter of a knight, Sir Nathaniel Lewis, and was, at ten years of age, expected to be a young lady. Young ladies did not work in the kitchen. They did not enjoy spending all their time up to their elbows in flour. They did not talk to the servants and convince the cook to let them help out whenever possible. Most of all, they did not skip their lessons with their governess in order to help in the kitchen.

At least, that's what her governess, Lady Olivia, told her when she found out that Christine had been in the kitchen instead of at her embroidery lesson.

"That's the third time this week I've caught you in there," Lady Olivia said. "I have told you time and time again, Miss Christine. Your father hired me to teach you how to be a lady. Ladies absolutely do not spend time in the kitchen. They have servants for that."

Christine frowned and picked at a bit of bread dough that had dried on her hands. She had tried to explain this to her governess several times before, but the woman did not seem to understand. Choosing her words carefully, she said, "But Lady Olivia, you said that a lady ought to find one area where she can excel. I don't excel at embroidery or singing. I'm hopeless at etiquette and I'm not much good at dancing. I'm very, very good at baking. I might even excel at it. Shouldn't I be allowed to practice?"

Lady Olivia looked absolutely horrified for a moment. Then she recovered herself and said with a haughty sniff, "I meant that a lady ought to find one of the ladylike arts to excel in, Miss Christine. Baking is not one of the ladylike arts. If you would come to your lessons you might improve in all of those areas and then you might find the one where you are meant to excel."

"Yes, but--" began Christine, but Lady Olivia held up a hand.

"I will have no more talk of your going down to the kitchens," she said. "If I catch you down there one more time, I will tell your father and insist that he punish you. Now come with me. It is time for your music lesson."

"Yes, Lady Olivia," said Christine. She hung her head and followed her governess from the nursery to the music room. No instrument could ever create something as beautiful as the song of the kitchen, but she knew that it was no use thinking about it now. She would simply have to wait for another chance to escape there again.

#

It took Christine another week and a half to escape to the kitchens again. Lady Olivia kept her under an almost constant watch but she managed to slip away one afternoon when her governess had finally given up her vigilant observation in favor of a nap. She arrived in the kitchen to find Maud, the head cook, kneading dough at the counter. Maud did not look up from her kneading.

"Put on an apron, take a dishrag and go help Pamela with the scrubbing," she said.

Christine did as she was ordered. Once she was installed at the sink, drying the pots that Pamela, the scullery maid, had cleaned, Maud spoke again.

"It's good to have you back, lass. We were afraid you wouldn't be coming again."

"So was I," Christine confided. "Lady Olivia nearly took to sleeping in my room at night. She keeps her door open so she can hear me if I get up in the middle of the night. As if I'd come down here at night."

"That woman has no sense of what goes on in a kitchen," said Maud with a snort. "I don't think she's ever been in one longer than to drag you out by your ears."

Christine giggled. "Maybe she's afraid that if she stays any longer you'll put her to work and she'll have to act unladylike."

"Unladylike!" Maud snorted again. "Why your mamma was a kitchen girl and she was more of a lady than that old bat!"

Christine nodded. "I wish Mamma was here now. She could tell Lady Olivia to let me come down here."

"If your mamma was here you wouldn't need that woman. You'd have your mamma instead, and she would have had you down here helping us as soon as you were old enough to do anything useful."

"You think so?" Christine asked dreamily.

"Of course. I knew your mamma. She was a good cook and a good woman. She had hair the color of raw honey and a heart of gold, your mamma did, and she'd hate to see you kept out of here the way you are." Christine thought she heard Maud give a sniff, as if she was crying, but a moment later the cook's voice was as cheerful and bossy as ever. "Get to work on those pots now. I want as many of them done as you can get before you're dragged away again."

Christine obeyed and let herself get immersed in the beauty of the song of the kitchen. It flowed over her, drawing her into a world of her own. She was so lost in that world that she jumped nearly a foot in the air when Lady Olivia's piercing voice echoed through the room, shattering the melody.

"Miss Christine! I have told you a hundred times not to come down here! I ought to lock you up in your room forever for playing such a trick on me! As it is I'm taking you to your father so I can prove to him what a horrible little troublemaker you are!"

Christine let the pot she was drying fall into the sink with a splash. She turned to face her governess. "I'm very sorry," she said. "Please don't tell Papa."

"I most certainly will tell him! This is the last straw! Come with me. Now!" Lady Olivia grabbed Christine by the arm and dragged her from the kitchen. Christine looked back to see Maud and Pamela both giving her sympathetic looks.

Lady Olivia pulled Christine up the stairs to the fourth floor of the manor. They stopped in front of her father's office door. Lady Olivia knocked with her free hand. A moment later, Sir Nathaniel's voice came from the other side. "Who is it?"

"It's Lady Olivia," said that lady. "I must speak with you, sir. It's about your daughter."

"Come in then," said Sir Nathaniel.

Lady Olivia opened the door and pushed Christine in ahead of her. Sir Nathaniel sat at his desk. He was a tall, thin man with a long face and dark brown hair that was quickly turning gray. He stared at his daughter and Lady Olivia with large, solemn brown eyes. "What seems to be the problem now, Lady Olivia?" he asked. "Christine, why are you wearing an apron?"

"She was in the kitchen again, sir," said Lady Olivia before Christine could answer. "I caught her there not five minutes ago. After I deliberately forbade her to go down there again. I know you don't like her working down there, sir, associating with the servants. I've tried my best to dissuade her from it but she continues to sneak away when my back is turned. I insist that you punish her this time, sir. She needs to learn a lesson."

Sir Nathaniel looked at her for a moment and then transferred his attention to Christine, who was staring very deliberately at her feet. "Christine," he said, gently, "look at me, child."

Christine looked up. "Are you angry, Father?" she whispered.

"No," he said. "No, child, I am not angry at you. I do wish you would obey Lady Olivia. I hired her to care for you. I hoped that you would learn to love her. But I can see that you haven't. I can also see that she has not done her job correctly either."

Lady Olivia spluttered indignantly. "Not done my job? Sir, I have done my very best to teach your daughter to be a lady. I have done my job. It is the girl who is the problem!"

Sir Nathaniel shook his head. "I did not hire you just to teach her," he said. "I hired you to care for her, to love her. You have not. Therefore, I am dismissing you. Pack your things and leave by tomorrow night."

"What?" Lady Olivia turned pale. "Sir, you cannot dismiss me! I have done my job! I have done the very best I could! You cannot make me leave!"

"I can and I am," said Sir Nathaniel sternly. "Leave my office at once and begin packing."

"Yes, sir." Lady Olivia turned and walked to the door. Then she turned abruptly and said, "I wish you luck finding another governess for that child. You may be sure that I will not recommend anyone to you." With that she flounced out of the office and shut the door behind her.

Christine remained in front of her father's desk. He looked at her with a strange expression on his face. For a moment they were silent. The he spoke, hesitantly at first, as if he was not entirely sure of what he was saying.

"Christine," he said, "I have not been a good father to you. I have always passed you off to other people. I trusted your godmother to care for you until two years ago and then I trusted Lady Olivia to do the same. Neither of them gave you what you truly need. I have not paid you as much attention as I should have, and I have not given you the love you deserve. You are...the picture of your mother. She would have loved you very much. You need a mother, Christine, and I can see that a governess is not working. So I have decided to marry again. You will have a new mother in only a few weeks."

Christine stared at her father in shock. "A...a new mother?" she squeaked out at last.

"Yes," said her father, smiling for the first time. "Her name is Lady Meriah Clarborough and she is a fine, wealthy woman. She has two daughters of her own. I'm sure you'll all be the best of friends."

"Will she like me?" Christine asked.

"Of course she will."

"Will she let me help in the kitchens if I want to?" asked Christine cautiously.

"I'm sure she will," said her father. "We wed in three weeks and then she and her daughters will be coming here to live with us. Then we will be a real family." He smiled again and held out his arms to her. Christine moved into them and let her father embrace her for the first time in years. She pushed any anxiety she had about her new stepfamily aside and reveled in this new affection from her father. There would be time to worry later.

#

Three weeks passed quickly. Lady Meriah left in a huff the next day and Sir Nathaniel left to wed and bring back his bride and her daughters a week later. Christine was left in the care of her godmother, Elizabeth Claiborne, until his return. Miss Claiborne, or Aunt Elizabeth as Christine called her, had been Christine's mother's best friend and fellow servant at the palace. She had come to live and serve Sir Nathaniel and his wife and then to care Christine when her mother died. She was a kind and clever woman who told wonderful stories. When Sir Nathaniel decided to hire a governess for Christine instead, Aunt Elizabeth had left the household and opened a shop in the town nearby. She and Christine spent a delightful two and a half weeks helping Maud in the kitchen, exploring the grounds, and sitting by the fire to talk. Christine half-wished that the time would never end. On the other hand, she was eager to meet her new stepmother and stepsisters.

On the morning that Sir Nathaniel was supposed to return, Aunt Elizabeth took Christine aside and pulled something out of her skirt pocket. Christine looked at it. It was a necklace, a small golden rose pendant on a delicate chain. "This was your mother's," Aunt Elizabeth explained. "She gave it to me for safe-keeping and told me to give it to you when I thought you were ready. I think you're ready now. I also think you'll need it soon."

"Why?" asked Christine.

"Because things are going to be changing, my darling. You have a new mother and sisters, and I am going to have a new family too. You see, I'm getting married."

"Married?" Christine repeated. "To who?"

"To a dear old friend, Jacob Porter. We knew each other years ago and he walked into the shop the other day and we started speaking and, well, dear, he's asked me to marry him and I've said yes. And we're leaving town soon. We won't be coming back for a long time."

"But Aunt Elizabeth, I'll miss you," said Christine, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'll miss you too, dearheart. But I'll come back someday, I promise. And as long as you wear the pendant, you'll always have a way to remember me, and your mother. Go on, dear. Take it." She pressed it into Christine's hand and gently closed her fingers around it.

"May I put it on?" Christine asked, all tears gone at the sight of the beautiful shiny pendant in her palm. "May I show Papa when he comes back?"

"You may put it on," said Aunt Elizabeth. "Give it to me and I'll help you." Christine obeyed. Aunt Elizabeth knelt and undid the clasp of the necklace. She fastened it around Christine's neck. Then she said seriously, "You must not show this to anyone, Christine. Not even your Papa. It will only make him think of your mother and that will make him sad. Let this be our secret."

"All right," said Christine, now excited to have a secret. Aunt Elizabeth smiled.

"I think I hear them coming," she said. "Let's go out and meet them. And remember, don't show anyone the necklace."

Christine rushed out of the house. Aunt Elizabeth followed behind at a more moderate pace. They stood on the front steps together and waited.

The carriage rolled up the drive entirely too slowly for Christine's taste. She was bouncing up and down in impatience. At last it pulled up in front of the house and the footman opened the door. Sir Nathaniel exited first, a wide smile on his face.

"Papa!" Christine cried, running to him and flinging her arms about his waist. "Welcome home!"

"Hello, Christine," said her father, giving her a quick squeeze before reaching his hand into the carriage to help his bride.

Lady Meriah Clarborough was the most beautiful woman Christine had ever seen. She had silk hair the color of fire that she had pinned up in elaborate curls on top of her head. She wore a gown of sky blue velvet that matched her eyes and a gold pin at her throat with a strange black jewel set in it. She smiled at Christine and spoke in a voice as smooth and sweet as honey.

"Hello there. You must be Christine. Your father has told me all about you. I feel as if I know you already. I hope we can be good friends."

Christine beamed with pleasure and swept her best curtsy, glad for the first time that Lady Meriah had worked so hard to teach her how. Lady Meriah smiled at her again and looked into the carriage. "Daphne, Philippa, come along, darlings. Come out and meet your new sister Christine."

Two girls, one about Christine's age with Lady Meriah's fiery curls, the other a bit younger with strawberry blonde locks, stepped out of the carriage and stood by Lady Meriah. Christine curtsied again. The girls curtsied in response. Lady Meriah beamed at them, but she spoke to Christine. "These are my daughters," she said. "This is Daphne. She is eleven years old." She indicated the older girl. "And this is Philippa. She just turned eight." She laid a gentle hand on the younger girl's head.

"Pleased to meet you," said Christine.

"Pleased to meet you," Daphne and Philippa echoed in perfect unison.

"Shall we go inside and get you all settled, then?" asked Sir Nathaniel, offering his arm to Lady Meriah.

"Of course. Come along my loves. Come Christine."

The three girls followed the adults into the house. Christine paused briefly to look at her godmother, who was still standing on the steps. Aunt Elizabeth smiled at her and mouthed, "They're lovely." She pressed her fingers to her mouth and blew Christine a kiss. Then she walked away.

Christine loved her new stepfamily, for the first few months anyways. Lady Meriah treated her kindly and even let her help Maud in the kitchen. She complimented her on her manners and on the food she helped make. Daphne and Priscilla too were extremely kind to Christine. The three of them played together whenever Christine wasn't in the kitchen. She showed them all her favorite places in the manor and on the grounds. She was delighted with them. For the first time in her life, she had a real family.

Then everything changed. Sir Nathaniel fell ill suddenly and though the doctors did everything they could, he only grew worse. Within a year of his marriage to Lady Meriah, he died. Christine was heart-broken but she expected her stepfamily to comfort her. They did nothing of the sort. Indeed, they did exactly the opposite. They shut Christine out completely. Lady Meriah locked her in her room for days. She was not allowed to attend the funeral. Her meals were delivered but the servant never stayed to speak with her.

After a week Lady Meriah herself came to the door. "Come with me," she said, all traces of honey gone from her voice.

Christine followed without question. Lady Meriah led her into the downstairs parlor, where Daphne and Philippa were waiting on a sofa. Lady Meriah sat in an armchair. Christine remained in the doorway. Lady Meriah looked over all of them, her gaze soft when it rested on her daughters and hard when it turned to Christine. After a moment she spoke in a positively poisonous voice.

"Our household has changed. Sir Nathaniel is dead and with his death, most of his fortune has been taken away from us. Because of this, we are going to have to make many changes so that we may go on living in a semi-dignified manner. First of all, we will have to let all the servants go. We cannot afford to pay them. This means that someone else will have to do all the housework."

"Not me, Mother," Daphne interrupted.

"Not me," Philippa echoed.

"Of course not you, darlings," Lady Meriah said gently. Then her voice turned poisonous again. "No, we will give the household chores to Christine. We already know she does not mind working in the kitchen. I am sure she will find the other work just as enjoyable." She focused her gaze on Christine. "From this day forth your rooms will belong to Daphne. You will sleep in the servants' quarters in the kitchen. You will do all the chores and you will do them well or I will throw you out to fend for yourself. I am only keeping you because I told your father that I would make sure you were provided for. If you disobey me, I will have no qualms in breaking that promise. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Stepmother," said Christine.

Lady Meriah's face twisted strangely. "Do not use that word again," she said. "From now on you will address me as 'Lady Lewis' or 'my lady'. My daughters are 'Lady Daphne' and 'Lady Philippa' or 'my lady'. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lady," said Christine.

"Good. Now be off with you. Go down to the servants' quarters and get used to being there."

"Yes, my lady."

Christine turned and walked out of the room. She trudged slowly down to the servants' quarters, where she found Maud, Pamela, and the others packing their bags. Christine ran to Maud, who held her as she cried.

"I've left all the cooking gear for you," she said as the little girl wept into her shoulder. "I've left all my recipes too. You're your mamma's daughter. She's be proud of you today, and she'll be even prouder of you as you grow up. Be a good girl and don't give up hope. Who knows? Maybe I'll see you again one day."

Christine sniffled and looked up into the cook's face. "I'll miss you," she said.

"I'll miss you too. I have to go now."

Maud pressed a kiss to Christine's forehead and gave her one last smile. Then she and the other servants left the servants' quarters. Christine watched them go. When she could no longer see them, she sank to the floor and burst into tears again.

#

Seven years passed slowly. Christine grew into a young woman with long hair the color of raw honey and her father's deep brown eyes. She learned to do all the household chores and still loved to bake, but it wasn't the same without Maud and the others. The song of the kitchen was not meant to be made by only one person.

Daphne and Philippa grew up as well. Daphne's fiery hair turned to a dark auburn and her eyes became the pale green of a sour apple. Philippa's hair remained the same strawberry blonde and her eyes were the same blue as her mother's. Both of them were slender and pale and considered quite beautiful by the young men in the town. Most of them were in love with one of them. What they didn't know was that both of them were absolutely, completely spoiled and proud as peacocks.

As for Lady Meriah, she did not change much at all. She remained as cruel as ever toward Christine while giving her own daughters anything and everything they demanded. Her hair was still the color of fire and she wore the same pin with the odd black stone set in it.

All three of them took delight in sending Christine on errands, often asking for ridiculous things that took hours to find. So it was that Christine was sent off one morning in early May to find the ingredients for three dozen strawberry tarts and three ducks for roasting that would have to be made in time for a dinner party that Lady Meriah was holding the next evening, enough chartreuse silk to make Daphne a new gown, and a pound of peppermint candy for Priscilla who had a notorious sweet tooth.

Christine did not mind going on errands; it meant that she was allowed to leave the house for a time.

#*#

So here's a basic summary of what happens next:

Christine goes to the village. She meets a young man who is shopping for ingredients as well. They discuss baking and it turns out he likes it as much as she does. He tells her he works at the palace and that he hopes to see her again sometime. Christine gives him some vague answer that isn't really a yes or a no and goes on her way, still thinking about him.

The next day a royal messenger comes with an invitation to the Summer Ball, which will be held in three weeks' time. All eligible young maidens are invited and the crown prince will be there and probably chose a bride. The household flies into an uproar. Daphne and Philippa both request ridiculously complicated dresses that they want Christine to make for them. She goes to town again to buy the appropriate material and runs into the young man again. His name is Peter. They discuss the ball and he asks if she'll be coming. She says she doesn't think so. He is disappointed.

Three weeks pass entirely too quickly and the night of the ball arrives. The stepfamily leaves and Christine sits in the kitchen. She thinks about the ball--specifically about how Peter will be there and she'd like to see him again. She thinks about it. She could go, if she could find a nice dress and a way to get there. She goes upstairs to search the attic, where she knows some of her mother's old clothes are kept. She finds a dress but it doesn't fit her. She realizes that her stepfamily took the horses to pull the carriage as well, so she wouldn't be able to ride there. She'd have to walk...It's no use.

Christine breaks down and cries. She rubs her little rose pendant and wishes her mother or Aunt Elizabeth were there to help her. Just then the doorbell rings. She goes down and answers it. It's Aunt Elizabeth (her godmother, not her aunt, by the way). She's come back, and she seems to know exactly what Christine needed because she brought along a beautiful ball gown, a pair of golden slippers, and her nice carriage. She helps Christine get ready and they head for the ball.

Christine enters late. Everyone looks up when she's announced and the crown prince himself comes over and asks her to dance. He quickly finds out that Christine isn't all that good at dancing though; she steps on his feet and he leaves in a huff. Another young man approaches her. It's Peter. He asks her to dance but she's too embarrassed so they go for a walk out in the gardens instead and talk for hours.

After this I'm a bit divided on where to go. Either the prince will come out and tell Peter to come back in, revealing him as the younger prince, and Christine will run away, OR the prince will come out with Daphne and Christine runs to avoid being recognized, OR Christine and Peter go back in just before midnight and are seen by Lady Meriah, who is very angry and reveals Christine as a servant girl and Christine runs...

Whichever scenario I end up using, Christine runs and loses a shoe. There's a grand commotion about how the prince wants to find and marry the girl who belongs to the golden slipper. When he finally comes to Christine's house it turns out that it's not the older prince (Prince Charles) but the younger one (Prince Peter, aka Christine's friend Peter). He does the whole trying the shoe on the stepsisters thing and it doesn't fit and asks if there are any other ladies. Christine has been locked in the servants' quarters. Peter figures it out (how I don't know; maybe she screams really loud or something) and gets her out. She tries on the shoe. It fits. Peter proposes and she accepts and they go off together and get married and they work down in the palace kitchens whenever they want to, making the song of the kitchen together.

So yeah. That's basically where it'll go, I hope. I have a vague thought about Lady Meriah and her weird black pin but I'm not sure if I'll use it. Let me know what you think of all of this and I'm really sorry it's not done.