Winter Fire [ Book 1 ] ✔

Chapter Twenty One

 The next morning, Claire was woken abruptly to the sound of doors banging open and the soft hiss of metal on metal as the drapes were flung wide allowing early morning sunlight to flood the previously dark room.

"Time to greet the day! We've got so much to do before tonight!"

Claire sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she tried to make sense of what was happening. "Arabella? What's going on? Is it nine o'clock already?"

"Of course not, silly, it's just past six," the young woman exclaimed.

Claire groaned and pulled the heavy blanket over her head. She wasn't certain what time she and Alek had returned the night before, but the house had been dark save for a lone light left burning in the downstairs foyer. After an exchange of awkward good nights, the two had parted ways, Alek retreating to his attic sanctuary while Claire was left to her thoughts.

Claire had gone about her nightly ritual in an almost dream like state, her mind returning time and again to that moment just before they were interrupted, when her heart had felt ready to leap from her chest and Alek had gotten so close she could feel his breath against her cheek.

Afterwards she had laid in bed for some time, listening to the crackle and pop of logs in the hearth, wondering, as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, if Alek had felt as disappointed by the interruption as she had.

"Come on now, Claire," Arabella admonished, "we have a tight schedule and if you wish to eat breakfast then I suggest you get up sooner rather than later. Octavia will be here at ten for a final fitting and the stylist will be here in an hour."

An hour? Claire was beginning to regret agreeing to attend the ball. She tried to recall if Cinderella had to go through this much preparation before her big night and then it dawned on her.

"I need a fairy godmother," Claire declared, her voice muffled by the blanket.

"A fairy what?" Ara asked and Claire felt the blanket being pulled away. She tried to keep it in place, but Arabella's will was stronger and in the end she succeeded in wrestling the blanket from Claire's grip.

"Would you be offended if I told you I hated you right now?" Claire asked as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

"Not at all," Arabella replied with a bright smile. "Now come along, Ms. Avery already has some things laid out for us and I want to hear all about your evening with my brother."

Arabella hopped up and swept towards the door. She paused just outside and looked back towards Claire. "If you aren't downstairs in ten minutes, I'm going to be back with a bucket of cold water."

Somehow, Claire didn't think she was bluffing.

Breakfast was a simple affair comprised mostly of muffins and biscuits with an array of jams, not that Claire had much time to sample any of it. The moment she sat down, Arabella began to grill her about the previous evening.

"Where did he take you?" Arabella asked as she slathered some strawberry jam onto a slice of toasted bread. "The theatre? The opera? Some place more... private?"

"We had pie," Claire said, focusing her attention on the plate of muffins as though she were having trouble deciding which one she wanted.

"Pie? My brother took you to... this is why he'll never marry," Arabella said with a forlorned sigh. She brought the toast to her mouth as though she intended to take a bite, only to lower it again. "That's all you did all night was eat pie?"

"No," Claire said.

She saw Arabella frown out of the corner of her eye and knew the young woman had hoped for more than the short answers Claire was providing.