Cinderella had barely gotten inside before she rushed upstairs.
"I think I know where those old hunting clothes are!" she called back over her shoulder.
Eleanor shook her head at this youthful study in eagerness, but she was smiling. She was quite certain she hadn't been smiling as much in her entire life before, as she had the past months. Then again, she hadn't been in love before. And it really was everything the fairytales said and the songs expressed; an all-consuming need to be with her loved one. To be close to her. To be too close to her.
She had never seen Cinderella so giddy and playful before either, so she could safely say the past had not done lasting damage to her, for which Eleanor was eternally grateful. She could also say that the attraction was definitely mutual.
Her smile faded as she started thinking of more practical things. If they kept acting like Cinderella was the maid, their relationship would be kept a secret. On the other hand, they would never be able to go anywhere together without acting maid and mistress. And while the thought certainly had its… perks… it would hardly be fair to either of them in the long run. Not if they wanted the relationship to be equal, and Eleanor desperately wanted just that.
"It would be like this; 'us' would be trapped inside this house. Outside of it, it would always be me on one hand, and her on the other, and never the twain shall meet," she concluded in a low voice.
And perhaps that would work for some time. But that meant they could never go for that ride, because what Lady brought her maid for a horseback ride? The social life she struggled so hard to stay on top of would take a toll, because she could never bring her maid to tea with the Duchess or Countess. But if… maybe, if she announced that Cinderella would be Lady of the house after Eleanor died… and therefore needed to practise what being a Lady really meant… of course she would have to spend a lot - a lot - of time with her mentor? And after all, what was less suspicious, more innocent than a young woman in the company of an older woman - who happened to be her stepmother?
"It's brilliant," she said to herself. "Hidden in plain sight."
Of course that meant getting a new maid. One that knew discretion. And that wouldn't be an easy task, but it should be possible.
"I found them! Come and try them on!" Cinderella's voice called from upstairs.
But first things first.
She found herself running up the stairs. So much for self-control.
"Are you sure?" she said, holding up the hunting clothes that once belonged to her late husband and the girl's father. "It doesn't…" she cleared her throat, feeling a tad uncomfortable, "bring back memories?" She wasn't entirely sure she wanted the girl to be reminded of a parent in any way connected to those clothes, because she had a feeling they would be used in settings not very parent-friendly.
"No", Cinderella replied. "Not that habit anyway, it has never been worn."
"Go outside and wait."
"But…"
"If it doesn't fit, you won't see me wear it. If it does, you can come back in once I have it on. Then you might be allowed to take it off. Might."
"Aw, alright then."
"You make it sound like I gave you a choice, dear," Eleanor said in her most haughty voice. Cinderella grinned.
"Oh my heartfelt apologies, your will is my command," she teased and gave a deep bow. Eleanor chuckled.
"I still won't change into it with you staring at me like a hawk, so off you go," she said, but in good humour. Cinderella smiled again, her eyes sparkling, and then she closed the door.
Eleanor glanced at the clothes and started to put them on, realising in the process that almost all the undergarments had to go. Interesting. The jacket was a bit too loose across the shoulders, but thanks to her ramrod posture, it was barely noticeable. As for the pants, they hugged her curves in a way not even the most daringly cut skirts could even hope to do. She nodded at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, this might do beautifully.
"Cinderella," she called in a low, purring voice. "Do come in."
The door opened as if the girl had been hanging on the handle - which perhaps she had - but she had not been peeking in the keyhole, for the reaction was one of delighted shock.
"Oh my…" she licked her lips, making Eleanor shiver with desire. "Oh, I'll say, Lady Tremaine, how deliciously inappropriate you look!"
Eleanor merely stood there, a smouldering smile burning on her lips, and let the younger woman drink in her new appearance with her eyes. It was amusing - and a little bit frightening as well - how fast she had gotten addicted to these glances. How easy it seemed to attract and interest a woman. She had never been a charmer when it came to men, but being a charmer seemed to come natural with this one. This woman. And oh, how beautifully responsive said woman was.
With a few steps, Cinderella closed the distance between them and looked deep into Eleanor's eyes. Eleanor found herself blushing like a little girl once more. Cinderella raised a hand, took the hat from Eleanor and put it on her own head, before she leaned in to kiss the older woman. She did so very slowly, very thoroughly, and when she was done, Eleanor was shivering in her arms.
"Kiss me senseless, Lady Tremaine," Cinderella whispered in her ear.
"Yes, ma'am", Eleanor replied and was happy to oblige.
They hadn't gotten very far when there was banging on the front door. They exchanged looks that ranged from annoyed to terrified. Then Eleanor groaned in annoyance and pushed Cinderella away.
"Oh no! I completely forgot! Lady Charlton and Lady Gingham were coming over for tea this afternoon! Act normal, or they'll catch on and start with the gossip unless… oh and wipe your face, you have my lipstick all over it….!"
Cinderella walked up to the mirror and grinned.
"They don't even look at me, do you believe they'd notice?"
"Are you making jokes? Stop that! Of course they'd notice!" Eleanor was so upset she had turned back into her usual snapping, unpleasant persona that Cinderella had grown up with.
"I already wiped it off. Look."
Eleanor gave her a quick once over, looking to tell-tale signs, but saw none, so she could go back to her own appearance, that certainly wouldn't go unnoticed.
"Shall I go downstairs and tell them you are… indisposed?"
"Don't you dare. Tell them I will be with them shortly."
"Very well. Ahem. Eleanor?"
"Yes?" she hissed.
"I was looking forward to be the one taking those clothes off of you. Maybe later?"
Eleanor felt her anger seep out of her.
"Yes, dear. Maybe later. Now, answer the door!"
Cinderella turned on her heel and left the room. Eleanor cursed under her breath and went on with the transformation back from sultry seductress to strict Lady of the house. The least she wanted in life right now was a cup of tea with some dry cookies and brainless chatter about the latest royal scandal. She was creating her very own secret scandal right here, for crying out loud, but she would rather live in it than speak of it.
"Cinderella!" she screamed, nearly in a fit of panic. "Take off the hat!"
"Already done," a much calmer voice answered from the stairway. Eleanor took a deep breath in relief and sat down on the bed. Now she would have to use every last drop of acting talent to make it through the afternoon.
She did not look forward to it.
A/N
I am so sorry I left it for so long, but the heatwave that struck turned me into something semi-human that could pretty much sprawl out half-naked and drink chilled wine and groan about the heat, but not much more, so not a lot of creativity happened. Also, one of our family cats died due to the heat, so it's been very tough and sad for days now… : (
Here is a new part anyway, hope you'll like it, and I have more coming soon, I promise!
Also, random thought of the day; what do you guys think Lady Tremaine would have done if she had noticed that Jaq was in her pocket (you know, in the original Disney movie, when he was trying to steal the key)? I mean - a MOUSE in your POCKET?! I stuck my hand into a mitten where there was a mouse once and I cried blue murder, and I'm usually not squeamish and most definitely not one trying to be elegant and graceful. So, what do you think? A panicky scream, or is she so composed she would deal with it without calling attention to herself? I mean, the stakes were pretty high… but can anyone keep that reaction bottled up? Yeah, that's the kind of things you start thinking of when the heat goes to your brain and you cool it with alcohol beverages… (personally, I think she would have twitched in surprise and then broken poor Gus's neck and thrown him to the cat. I mean, she does seem that cold, doesn't she?)