Page 50 of Disenchanted

I shot Imelda a warning glance, but she ignored me. “Is your father in good health?”

“Er— no. Actually, he’s dead.”

“I am so sorry,” I said.

Crushington gave me a melancholy smile. “Thank you, Miss Ella, but I lost him many years ago.”

“What about your mother?” Imelda asked.

“She died not long after my father.”

“How sad,” Netta cried.

“Do you have any other relatives?” Em pursued. “Any brothers or sisters?”

Crushington shook his head. “Only a distant cousin who looks after the property that my parents left me.”

“Oh, you inherited an estate?” Em brightened a little at that.

“Er- no. Just a small farm.”

“And where exactly would that be—” Imelda began, but I startled everyone by leaping to my feet to put an end to this embarrassing inquisition.

“Commander Crushington, would you care to take a stroll about the back lawn with me?” I asked in a tone of breathless desperation. “I have been simply perishing to show you— er— something.”

Crushington stood, looking relieved at my suggestion, but my stepmother also rose and protested, “Where are your manners, Ella? We truly should serve our guest some tea.”

“He already said he doesn’t need any tea.” I all but propelled the commander in the direction of the French doors. “He doesn’t want tea. I don’t believe he even likes tea.”

“Well, it isn’t that I—” Crushington tried to interrupt.

“In fact, I think he hates tea.” Yanking open the door, I thrust the commander outside. When my stepmother and sisters gathered as though preparing to join us in the back garden, I stopped them with a glare.

“I believe you all have sewing to do.”

“But, Ella,” my stepmother whispered, “do you really think you should be alone with that man?”

“What do you think he’s going to do, Em?” I hissed back. “Devour me?”

“He might try to steal a kiss.” Netta sighed.

“The commander is so bashful, Ella will likely have to kiss him,” Amy said.

They dissolved into giggles again and Imelda regarded me imploringly. I gave them all one last exasperated scowl before stepping outside and slamming the door closed.

I leaned up against it, fearful they might try to follow me. When moments elapsed and the door handle did not rattle, I released a deep breath. As I came away from the door, I realized that the stiff set of the commander’s shoulders had relaxed. He stopped crushing his beret and tucked it inside his belt.

I summoned up a rueful smile as I approached him. “You are well versed in the law, sir. Tell me. Is it illegal to drop any of one’s relatives down a very deep well?”

Crushington’s lips twitched, but he replied solemnly, “I fear that the law does discourage such actions, although perhaps allowances might be made for extenuating circumstances.”

I laughed. “Do not mistake me, sir. Although my stepmother and sisters can at times be a bit…”

“Solicitous?”

“I was going to say as aggravating as mud fleas, but I do still love them dearly.”

“I am sure they are all as charming as you are, Ella.”