Read Online Cinderfella by Linda Winstead Jones - Free Book Online

hired to help with the wheat harvest in the summertime. Ash didn’t often put his foot down, but he wouldn’t have his godfather sleeping in the barn.
    Nathan was telling his story about the Russian prince, a story Ash had heard a number of times. On occasion the Russian in question was a duke rather than a prince, but Ash believed the story was mostly true. He half-listened, allowing his bones to relax, allowing his mind to wander. It was nice to listen to a voice that wasn’t harping, whining, or insulting.
    â€œYou should’ve seen Lila in those days.” Nathan shook his head in wonder. “She was a beauty, she was, perhaps the greatest of this century.”
    The harrumph that came from Verna’s direction was soft but unmistakable.
    â€œWhy, that Russian prince did his best to sweep her off her feet,” Nathan continued undaunted. “Flowers, confections, jewels . . . she refused them all.”
    Ash loved hearing Nathan’s stories about his mother. All he knew of her was the woman who had kept this house and raised her only child and delighted in her small family. He remembered just as well her heartbreak and her illness, her last days on this earth.
    But when Nathan spoke, Ash saw his mother as she’d been before coming to this place in her life. Talented and sought after, surprisingly adventurous, and wise enough to spurn her many admirers . . . until John Coleman came along.
    â€œWhat a foolish woman,” Verna snapped, “to refuse a prince and then turn around and marry a farmer.”
    Nathan’s smile vanished. So did Ash’s rare good mood.
    It wasn’t long before Verna excused herself and took to her downstairs bedchamber. Elmo yawned and climbed the stairs, and even Oswald eventually closed his book and headed for bed. They’d been gone for several minutes before Nathan spoke.
    â€œHow do you stand it?” he asked softly.
    It was a question Ash had asked himself many times. “I have no choice.”
    â€œI suppose multiple murder is out of the question,” Nathan said dryly.
    Ash smiled. “I’m afraid so.”
    Nathan stood and stretched short arms over his head, yawning with theatrical flair. “Well,” he said as his arms dropped. “If you change your mind and need an accomplice, you know where to turn.”
    â€œWhy, thank you, Nathan, but I think that’s above and beyond your duties as a godfather.”
    After Nathan climbed the stairs, Ash doused the lamps and made sure all the downstairs windows were closed securely. This time of the year it could get mighty cold at night, and icy wind through an open window could make for a chilly morning.
    He didn’t imagine Charmaine Haley had ever been cold in her life. The Haley house probably had a fireplace in every room, and she’d surely have a wardrobe of warm wool and fur wraps and earmuffs. She’d certainly never awakened in the morning and been forced to place her bare feet on a cold floor.
    Oswald would love her lifestyle. Not only was life on the farm distasteful to Verna’s oldest boy, he seemed to think he’d been cheated because he hadn’t been pampered all his life. While Ash dreamed of the simple pleasure of living alone, Oswald probably dreamed of discovering that he was a long-lost prince switched at birth and that his real parents would arrive any day to whisk him away to a life of luxury.
    Ash had thought, often as of late, that Oswald and the Runt would make quite a pair. Pretty and spoiled, they were surely two of a kind. But when he tried to picture them together, when he tried to imagine Charmaine and Oswald standing side by side as a couple — he couldn’t quite make it work.
    She was too good for him. Hell, no woman deserved Oswald March as her husband, not even Charmaine Haley.
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    Five
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    The last-minute preparations for the masked ball had taken the better part of the week.