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“Bobby Fletcher refused to be my date to the ball because he said he’d rather go with you. Why would he say that? I’m such a better catch than a cheap hussy like you,” she spat.
My stepsisters were obsessed with my mother’s family history. Somewhere in her past, she’d been homeless and in order to make enough money to get off the streets, she’d worked as a stripper. Since finding that sordid detail, they’d treated me like I was some lower-class citizen, especially since somewhere in their ancestry was a supposedly royal line dating back to their English ties. The evidence of such a thing was minimal, but whatever made them sleep better at night meant that I slept better, too.
“I have no idea why he would say that. I’ve never even spoken to him,” I answered.
“Were you walking around the stables in a low-cut shirt or something? Strutting yourself like some whore? For him?” she accused, and I shook my head frantically.
“I don’t own anything like that,” I answered quickly. This was going downhill fast, and I couldn’t see a way out.
“How can I believe you when I found this? Were you planning on showing off for him?” she shouted, gradually raising her voice enough that Bentley would be able to hear from down the hall. I cringed when I heard her steps in the hallway. Both of them together would be even worse.
“Bobby Fletcher isn’t interested in me. There’s no way,” I finally said.
“That’s what he said. You calling me a liar?” Mackenzie attacked.
“Did I miss something?” Bentley asked as she leaned against the doorframe. “Those yours, sis?” Bentley pressed when Mackenzie didn’t answer right away.
“These are Ella’s. I found them hidden in her closet. She says she didn’t steal them, but I think she’s been showing off for Bobby Fletcher so she can get some sort of pity date or something,” Mackenzie finally explained.
“I bought those,” I said again.
“You can’t buy nice things. Your stock isn’t made for them,” Bentley accused.
“I can show you the receipts!” I tried one last time, but they started shouting, and that’s when I heard Aurora’s telltale footsteps on the stairs. My heart nearly stopped. I jumped up and tried to take the box from Mackenzie, but that only resulted in the contents spilling out all over the floor.
“You’re no better than your whore of a mom!” Mackenzie accused, her ire visceral. Her face was red with anger, which kind of made her look like a tomato about to burst. I looked back at her, realizing Bobby’s rejection had cut deeper than she wanted to admit. Had he seen me working in the house? I don’t even remember running into him, but apparently, I’d been memorable enough for him to say something to her.
“I don’t want anything to do with Bobby,” I tried softly, holding her gaze with mine.
“Fat chance,” Bentley replied for her, and an edgy silence followed.
“What’s going on?” Aurora’s shrill voice cut through the tension, and my blood ran cold. I tried to gather the pieces of my riding outfit and hide it underneath a large piece of fabric, but my efforts were wholly unsuccessful.
“Ella is a lying, thieving whore,” Mackenzie started. “I found that in her closet. I’m not sure who she stole it from, but a girl like her could never afford a riding outfit like that.”
Aurora pushed her way into the room and stared down at me on the floor, her cold gaze settling on my riding jacket. She leaned down and picked it up with two fingers, like she couldn’t contain her disgust at touching something that might belong to me.
“What’s this business with Bobby Fletcher? His parents pay a good deal of money to board Shadow Dancer, and I wouldn’t want something to interfere with that,” she said, leveling me with a ruthless, icy glare.
“He said he’d rather take her to the ball than go with me,” Mackenzie pouted.
“I never talked to him. Not even once,” I tried, but it was as if my stepmother had deaf ears when it came to me.
“Why would you need a riding outfit?” she demanded.
“I don’t…”
“You’ve been sneaking around the stable, haven’t you? Do I need to check the security footage? Which ones have you been sullying with your presence? I strictly forbade you from interfering with the stables in any capacity years ago,” she accused angrily.
I slumped my shoulders in defeat. It would be useless to deny it now. Aurora could find footage of me if she needed to. I’d known the cameras were mainly there for the clients, and they weren’t typically monitored unless there was a problem. I’d stick out like a sore thumb among the staff and visiting clients.
“I like to visit the horses in the mornings. Sometimes, just to see the sunrise and give some of them a carrot,” I confessed. All of that would be on the camera anyway. There wasn’t anything I could do to hide that.
“You disobeyed me and put my stables at risk. There are several horses in my facility with very high expectations and any calories over their dietary allotment can seriously affect their performance,” she snarled.
“You should throw her out,” Mackenzie blurted out.
“Can she at least finish my dress?” Bentley whined.
