The Fortune by Beth Williamson Read Free Book Online

us a story.” Charlotte was sleepy, but she always had the energy to beg their father for a tale. He was a wonderful storyteller.
    “You will not stay awake for one.” He smiled at his youngest daughter. “Your eyelids appear to weigh more than you.”
    Charlotte struggled to sit up straight, bumping her sisters in the process. They all chuckled at her attempt to ignore her sleepiness. “I am wide awake.”
    Their father hesitated, glancing at Maman. She lifted one shoulder with a smile. He kissed her forehead and looked at his daughters again.
    “One short story, then it is bedtime for everyone, oui ?”
    A long day of walking made each of them tired. Going to sleep should not be a problem, but they pretended to moan and groan, mostly for Charlotte’s benefit, before agreeing to their father’s terms.
    “Do you have a favorite you would like to hear?” he asked.
    It was all part of the game they played. Their favorite story was always the same one. Papa told it so well, with such passion in his voice, it had captivated each of them from the time they were small.
    “The story of the princess and the carpenter.” Charlotte spoke for all of them, never needing to ask what they wanted to hear.
    “Ah, of course. Why would it be any other?” Papa grinned. “It was 1825 and a young apprentice carpenter was practicing his craft in a small village outside Paris. He was poor but proud of his skills, although he was barely making enough money to feed himself.”
    Frankie watched her sisters’ faces as they fell into the story immediately, taken by the tale of how their parents met.
    “One day the apprentice was approached by his teacher, an old carpenter with the skills of more than fifty years, to create a music box. It was to be a gift for a rich young lady for her eighteenth birthday from her father, a physician.” Papa paused, waiting until Charlotte could not keep quiet.
    “Tell us what happened!”
    He grinned at her. “The apprentice spent hours crafting the gift from the most beautiful rosewood music box. He included music from the great composer, Herr Mozart, a tune that spoke of the beauty of life, of the notes and of the owner of the box.” Papa glanced at Maman. “When the day arrived, he wrapped the music box in a piece of white satin and delivered it to her house. Unaware of the gift her father had commissioned, the young woman answered the door.”
    This time it was Maman who smiled. “And found a scruffy young man with two days’ growth on his cheeks and dirty fingers. She sniffed and closed the door in his face.”
    Frankie chuckled, despite the fact she’d heard the story a hundred times. She knew what was to come, but she never tired of hearing it.
    “In that brief time, the apprentice fell in love with the young woman. He knocked again, overcome with the need to know who she was. This time the girl’s father opened the door and took the gift, paying the man in coin. Yet it was not the last time he came to the young woman’s house. He made her many gifts, one each week, until the father grew sick of seeing him.”
    Maman picked up the thread. “The girl examined each gift, finding her heart melt with each of the wooden creations. From the looking glass, to the writing set, the small desk and the wooden menagerie, each piece was crafted with care, with love. She did not know the young man, but she felt his hands on each creation she held in her own.”
    Papa smiled. “One day while on the way home from taking a walk in the park, the young woman saw the apprentice leaving another gift on her doorstep. She stepped forward and thanked him. The sound of her voice rendered him speechless. Her smile made his heart stop. Her father protested the match, but in the end, love and the talent of a carpenter’s apprentice won the heart of the princess.” Papa kissed his wife’s hand with all the passion and love he had found more than twenty years ago.  
    Maman finished the tale. “She learned to