There were few creatures as strange as people. We fancied ourselves above average animals, refusing to admit that we could be ensnared.

Yet the promise of countless things enticed us. We venture into places unhealthy for us despite our brains warning us not to. And as I rose from my bed in the morning, having not yet readied myself for the day, still my mind screamed at me to leave, while my body remained.

How could two parts of the same entity act out of harmony?

I did not know, but I heeded the warning.

Today, I would leave. Coming back here was a moment of weakness, an unnecessary one.

And besides, I had quite a bit to lose.

Once I was ready to greet the day, the sun shined high. I hesitated to walk out. For if I left, I would not return.

My mind told me to go, but my very being felt comforted here. From the good memories growing up, to the bad upon my leaving, to what the house now entailed.

Cinderella.

I'd left her here, in this very house. And to have her back, even for a moment.... A part of me came back with it.

But she wasn't the only one I left.

Edmond.

With a new resolve, I marched to my door and swung it open. I was leaving.

Two big blue eyes greeted me.

Cinderella, clutching her patchwork doll, radiated joy. "It worked! You are still here."

She rushed me and I nearly stumbled back with the impact of her tight embrace.

"I'd hoped you hadn't left. And now you are still here. When you are hired, you will be living here, won't you?"

Wouldn't I?

I wouldn't. Especially now that I'd gotten what I wanted—her joy.

Admittedly, I held onto her longer than I should have—because I would miss her.

"Come," I said, finally, pushing her back, "this is not how a lady carries herself."

The smile faded little by little, and I, desperate for it again, promised, "Let us have a nice breakfast and then we'll play together."

Just like that, her happiness returned, more brilliant than ever.

She grabbed my arm to drag me to breakfast, but I caught hers instead, shaking my head at the sight of her.

"Who has done your hair?" I scolded on my march back into the room. I returned with a hairbrush and went to work trying to untangle the blond mess.

"I do my own hair," she boasted with a wince. "Governess, that hurt. Haven't I done a good job?"

I set my mouth to admonish her presentation but hesitated. Was that really the memory I wanted her to have of me should we never meet again?

Rather than complain, I tried to tug the hair instead of pulling it, and I took more care with the brush strokes.

Admittedly, even my own girls did their hair. But they were exquisite at it. Cinderella...less so. A governess, a real one, would make all the difference for her.

Crazed, mad thoughts raced through my mind. Perhaps I could be a governess.

No.

A woman of my station was no governess.

With a few carefully placed pins, the once unruly mess was a sight.

She brushed past me and thundered into my room to use the mirror.

Such terrible manners. I walked in to convey as much but she rushed me yet again.

"It's wonderful! It's far better than I could do it."

When she slammed into me with a hug this time, I meant to push her back but instead sighed. Truthfully, it wasn't the hairstyle she was reacting to. Or perhaps even the thought of a governess. Deep down, I suspected, as my mind and heart could both agree, she'd been by herself too long.

The house was old and whenever the wind blew, we felt it. As such, I retrieved one of my shawls from the bag and wrapped her in it.

My intent was to keep her warm but she declared, "Now we match!"

At the sight of her there, wearing my things, even my hairstyle, I smiled then laughed.

Cinderella's confidence wavered. "Does it look strange?"

Taking her face in both hands, I told her, "No. Quite the opposite. Come. We need a proper breakfast."

But she planted her feet and said, "Father's there. Can we wait until he's finished?"

What a strange request.

And I hadn't known her father'd returned at all. I hadn't seen him at the funeral, and someone must have told him I was here.

"We can see from the window," she suggested and led the way.

Sure enough, after an hour, the door slammed open and a burly figure exited the house and was off in a carriage.

My first question was why they were using this house so freely. It was my grandmother's and not the one Arabella inherited.

No matter. The monster was out and we were free.

"Now, before we go into the kitchen," Cinderella said, "I must warn you. There's a very strange-looking man there. But it's all right because he came due to Mother's wish. He's awfully nice."

I fought back a smile as I nodded.

Edmond.

How good it was to see him again.

Three years after being introduced to Edmond the doll came Edmond the boy. His name was not Edmond, and he did not have a sister, but rather, a brother. Bella and I were thrilled to see something so amazing, embodiments of our two dolls in the flesh. With Edmond's skin so black it appeared more like the color of the felt, I was pleased to see that my wish had come about spectacularly. The other boy was fairer, however. Fiona wouldn't fit, so we called him Raphael.

Father detested them.

Not a day passed that my father's shouting and protests didn't fill my grandmother's house whenever we visited.

The word 'impropriety' came and went often. Raphael was ten then, Edmond thirteen.

Grandfather never returned from abroad, but he sent his last son back. That was all I could understand in passing. I didn't puzzle it together right away, because the uncle that delivered them was, in fact, the middle son.

No matter. We did not care. They would stay with my grandmother and now and then, uncle took them for studies at the university despite my father insisting they be given to a carnival and be done with.

Bella and I found them fascinating though they were unable to speak as we.

One summer led to two then three and as time wound on, my father wound down. He never regarded them but, eventually, he stopped complaining.

The dolls were to prepare us.

Pity there wasn't a doll for my father.

Rather than the kitchen, Cinderella led me to the dining room. A time or two, I forced myself to not overtake her and find it on my own. This was my family's house. I knew it far better than she.

The food was set out, a lavish breakfast.

Cinderella gasped. "We never get this much." Hand to her mouth, she remembered me and muttered, "Ladies don't say such things, do they?"

No. They certainly did not.

But I smiled and sat across from her. She stood and hurried to the other side to sit next to me.

Her way of eating was...unrefined. Still, I bit my tongue. Instead, I ate, taking extra care in my posture. I was more than pleased to see her pause in her undertaking to watch me. After a time, she mimicked even my way of sitting.

She could learn.

Yes. A governess would do wonders. It would be all she needed. And I could hire one if the estate could not afford it.

Once again, my mind and heart were in conflict. I wanted to remain at her side and see that she was properly cared for. But my head said to leave. Even the most cunning of creatures could follow a desirable bait to reach their end.

Cinderella was my bait. I prayed no one would ever know.

I stood with the intent to visit the kitchen.

"Wait!" Cinderella jumped to her feet. "Are you leaving? But we haven't finished. Aren't we going to play together?"

This time, I held her shoulder and eased her back into her chair. I sat as well.

"Calm down. Ladies do not have such strong outbursts."

Her face reddened.

I regretted that.

My tone was too stern, perhaps.

Hand on her shoulders, I assured her, "I wish to see this magical man for myself. Is that all right?"

Cinderella's eyes widened. "You are not afraid?"

I pushed out my chest, boastful, and she giggled.

"Come. Eat this all and when I return, we will spend time together."

Her expression brightened but she hesitated to turn back to her breakfast. "And if you stay, you don't have to worry, Father hardly ever lets him beyond the kitchen and of course outside. So please don't worry."

I patted her head and made sure to move slower when I left. Perhaps my desire for escape was a bit too obvious.

Once I reached the kitchen, I saw him.

He stared at me, and I stared back.

Edmond. My good friend.

Until today we'd tackled many adventures in our time; did I foolishly believe I could manage this because he was here, too?

"How bad is it?" I asked him.

As he watched me, I waited for his ire. I'd left him behind here, after all. Never to look back.

It was no wish that had brought him to us, but rather, a ship. And he wasn't magic...but something else.

I used that knowledge to ground me after Edmond started telling me all he cared to about the state of things.

He finished, saying, "We are not yet using our leather boots for soup, ma'am. But we are certainly considering it."

Today's breakfast must have been left over from yesterday's funeral.

I let out a sigh. Sometime in his detailing of the situation, I'd lost power and sat. Now...I had to stand to remind my body to not give out. Hands braced against the back of the chair before me, I studied what I could of the mahogany of the table. That explained why Edmond, a usual tinkerer of the house, had become porter and butler all in one.

Arabella hadn't been exactly forthright. She and her husband had lost our family villa and thus came here to live.

This estate, gifted to them by my mother, was also in jeopardy, severely so.

That wasn't all.

"He hasn't been home in days, Miss. He just came for the funeral. That is not uncommon for him, but it means trouble," Edmond confessed.

I picked my head up, no longer comforted with being home, being in Edmond's company again. "Women or the drink?"

Edmond gave no answer and that said it all.

"Both," I breathed out. Depending on what ailed him, that meant no money in, and money out for liquor and gambling.

I hadn't expected this. Arabella had said bad dealings, not.... Letting out a long breath, I asked, "When was the last time Cinderella'd had a governess?"

Edmond blinked at me. "I do not know. They've only arrived last year." He hesitated then said, "They have no money for such. Besides...."

He stared at me expectant but I stared back, confused.

Finally, he took mercy on me and explained, "Any governess wary of her reputation would not work for this man. It's no coincidence the maids have all fled, ma'am. The cook only remains as a personal favor to me, but...I've worried even about her despite her being a married woman."

My breath caught. Had Gareth always been such a cad?

With youthful eyes, I'd been blind to so much. Now, looking back as a grown woman, I formed more than a few terrible conclusions.

"I can pay. Cinderella needs a governess."

Edmond's brow creased in such a fashion that I recognized his anguish. Something troubled him.

"You cannot leave that child here," he said, his expression solid.

He was my friend but no one to put demands upon me. Before, I puffed out my chest to make Cinderella laugh, this time I did it to exert authority; I would put him in his place.

"Mr. Gareth likes to live like a king. Now he will surely die like one."

I blinked up at him. "Pardon?"

Finally, he said, "Syphilis."

My hands flew to my mouth.

Edmond confided, "I suspect your sister died from it." Before I could summon up a response, he went on. "He's been in and out of every whore house that allows a tab, I'm sure. No one can tell me otherwise. Enough servants have whispered about his reputation for me to put two and two together." His eyes held fear. "I'd thought," Edmond said, "that you'd come for your daughter."

I staggered back, too ashamed to even dig up a lie.

He'd hurt me with his words, but there was no malice in his voice. Just an anger I could not quell.

Impropriety. That word flew into my mind again.

That was what he meant when he said I had no time. Not to save the estate but...to save Cinderella. She was on a set path to become an orphan.

But Edmond knew. Sixteen years ago, after I'd finally confessed to my own...impropriety, I was whisked away here. But I couldn't say how he'd known Cinderella was mine.

I opened my mouth to ask, face hot.

He interrupted me, saying, "Mr. Gareth has a sister of...questionable dealings, and a not-too-gentle mother who'll take ownership of his daughter should he pass." He raised his brows at me. "But I more than question their sincerity."