by Minda Webber
“Let me see, where to begin. Oh yes, most of the time the children are cursed hellhounds subjecting me to indignities that our brothers didn’t even conceive.”
“No!” Greta gasped. Her two brothers, of quite the mischievous bent, could turn a person’s hair white in hours. She’d seen them do so.
“Then there’s my adoring husband. I’ve been a bride for four days, and I know absolutely nothing about anything. Fennis ignores me.”
“No man ignores you for long,” Greta said.
“Alas, it’s true. He’s not even been to my bedchamber.”
“How can that be?” Greta asked, confused. “I wanted to ask you about all that. No one ever really talks about it. It’s all so mysterious!”
“Well, sister dear, it’s still mysterious to me as well. I feel rather silly and inept, if at the same time a trifle relieved,” Rae admitted. “Did you know that Fennis knows absolutely nothing about giving compliments? I also discovered that Prussian gifts are poison! What a barbaric country.”
Greta realized that Rae was speaking of the German word gift, and she grinned.
“Anyway,” Rae continued, “I much doubt I’ll receive presents or gifts anytime soon. He despises me, I think.”
Greta patted her sister’s shoulder. “Give him time, Rae. I’m sure he’ll come around. He seems a kind man.”
Rae nodded reluctantly. “To everyone but me.” Drawing a deep breath, she stared hard at her sister. “I must confess that much of my dismal start as a wife is all my fault. I have thought too long and too hard upon myself, my needs, my hopes, my reflection in the looking glass. I was brought up to believe that I would be the savior of the family fortunes, and it gave me a sense of power that should never be given to a child. I’m sorry, Greta, for the shallow things I have said to you. Today I took stock of myself, and what I found I did not like much. Do you remember Father’s quote about how the world changes us? ‘We are not only what we make of ourselves, but what the world makes of us.’ I think it’s past time that I grew up.”
Greta’s eyes widened in shock, but her disbelief was of a very welcome nature. She had always known that Rae had a clever mind and a kind heart, but it was oft hidden by her vanity. “Oh, Rae! I’ve always blamed Mother and Nurse for spoiling you. As a child you had such a sweet and unsullied nature.”
Tearfully the two sisters embraced, and a world of hurts and slights slipped into the past to be buried. Greta began to praise Rae’s new lease on life. Yes, they both agreed, the Black Forest was a magical land.
At last, Rae held up a restraining hand. “Please, there’s more. Last night I played a prank on the children, hoping to teach them a lesson. Only, two of the children were almost killed. Poppy probably would only have fallen, mayhap broken an arm, but nothing as serious as having her noggin kicked in by the Headless Horseman’s horse’s hooves. I saw what those hooves did to that pumpkin, and it was not a pretty sight.” She shuddered, thinking about the pieces of pumpkin mashed beneath the horse’s massive hooves.
Eyes wide, Greta raised a hand in protest. “Rae, you’re rambling again. What headless horseman? What pumpkins? Who are Quinn and Poppy? Do you have a headless horse man here at Durloc? If so, I shall never forgive Aunt for making me miss his dashing ride.”
Rae rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Greta, this isn’t some story to be told. This is my life! Let me explain about last night.” And she did, telling her tale of woe and tribulation starting from her honeymoon. It was a story complete with ghosts, ogres, flour and the sly leadership of Nap and his mischievous mob of merry munchkins. The finishing touch was Heinrich’s ride, the butler’s head covered and gourd in hand.
While she explained her blighted existence, Rae watched various expressions flit across her elder sister’s face. Some of the pranks had Greta laughing, but the smiles soon ceased. The children really had gone too far, and Greta’s expression filled with indignation at several of the ill-conceived jests. And she clearly worried about Rae’s part in the Headless Horse man fiasco.
“But, you see, I had just cause to act as I did. They needed to be taught a lesson. Their pranks just kept getting worse. You weren’t around, and I felt desperate—but justified.” Rae moaned, shaking her head.
Greta shook her head. The baron would probably be livid regarding Rae’s prank. Yet, Rae was also correct. The wicked little beasts had needed to be taught a hard and fast lesson, and what faster lesson than a headless horseman? Staring at her sister in wonder, Greta shook her head once more. “Good gracious, Rae. How you’ve changed. Before, you would have been ranting, raving and in tears, but here I find you jesting about the situation. I’m proud of you. But I do council honesty about last night’s escapade as soon as possible.”
Nervously, Rae nodded. “I know. I only hope he can understand my reasoning. I can’t even try to lessen his anger with me by flirting and batting my eyelashes! He’d probably just ask if I have something in my eye,” she announced. “My whole life I was taught that my beauty would be a great gift to my husband, yet Fen cares not. How am I to cherish him if he avoids me and spends his night with mangled mockingbirds?”
“Er, it’s ‘soiled doves,’ I believe,” Greta corrected. “But surely the baron isn’t consorting with them?” She was shocked. The baron had seemed nothing like the womanizing Rolpe.
“We’ve been wed such a short time. Yet, the past two nights he hasn’t come home.”
Patting her sister’s arm, Greta replied wisely, “Make him want you. Besides, perhaps business truly called him away.”
“I don’t know, Greta. Fennis can be quite determined. And he seemed totally uninterested in me.”
“Remember, for want of a horse and a carriage and a pair of slippers, a kingdom was lost,” Greta said.
“Oh, do be sensible. Stop talking in platitudes,” Rae chided gently. “And if you want me to flirt with him, I have tried. He seems immune.”
“You underestimate your charm.”
Rae sighed. “Since when? But perhaps the problem is something other than my attractiveness. He is much displeased that his children and I are not on the best of terms. What an understatement! With over half of them, I am still in open warfare. They despise me, these demon spawn…”
“Perhaps they have too much time on their hands,” Greta suggested. “We shall have to come up with a way for you to win the war—or at least a flag of truce. Lest you end up living in armed strife all your married life.”
“I am agog, and listen with bated breath.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help. I love you dearly, you know,” Greta said, pleased that her younger sister seemed to have matured quite a bit in so short a space of time. For once she hadn’t been deluged with tales of Rae’s conquests. Of course, Rae really hadn’t made any conquests.
Still, her sister needed help, as well as courage and a thick switch. She also needed to smile. Glancing around the room, Greta remarked with false cheer, “You at least got your castle. I must say, it is a fine one.”
Rae leaned her head back against the soft cushion of her French-styled chair. “Yes, with a big frog prince and his seven warts. Just what I always dreamed.”
Greta burst out laughing. After a moment, she said, “He’s not a frog. He’s a kraut.” And her laughter finally elicited a bout of giggles from Rae.
Deciding to change the subject, as they could do no more for Rae in the nonce, Greta announced, “I’m going to see the old witch, Fräulein Hines. Why don’t you and the children come with me? That way we can both spend some time with them, and I can come up with a strategy to win their devious little hearts. I’ll stop by and pick you up tomorrow. I can hardly wait. I wanted to go sooner, but they said that the fräulein was away visiting family. So, tomorrow is the day.”
“You’re going to that witch’s gingerbread house? Whatever for?”
“I want my fortune told.”
Rae eyed her sister suspiciously. Greta had always been the most curious of the Gri
mm lot, but this was something more. “Spill the beans.”
“Well, you’ll think I’m foolish.”
“Me? A woman who had flour thrown on her face, was locked in a creepy old tower and bitten on the ankle twice by a deranged four-year-old? Foolish? Methinks not.”
“Well, I wanted to see if she was really a witch and all. I also heard that she was a close companion of Frau Choplin, the woodcutter’s mother.”
“Hmm. How is that investigation going? I take it you haven’t found any vampires wandering around yet?” Rae asked, half curiously and half in disbelief. “No, you would have written or come to see me about such a find.”
“I did speak to the doctor who attended Frau Choplin’s death. I was disgusted. The man is a notorious drunk. He told me there was not a single bite mark upon her, but I don’t think he examined her body very closely.”
“So you still believe she’s a vampire? But if so, then where is she at night? Don’t they have to feed?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet, but I will. There’s a vampire, or my name isn’t Greta Grimm,” she avowed, gravely pounding her fist into her palm. “If Rolpe wasn’t so pompous and powerful, the magistrate might be willing to listen to my views—the views of someone who has much knowledge on the subject.”
Rae sat up straighter. “So, it’s Rolpe now, is it?” she asked, smiling. Her sister blushed. “You are calling him by his first name. How did this happen?” Rae was sharp enough to realize just exactly what Greta had been hoping, fairy-tale romantic that her sister was.
Greta confessed: “I saw Rolpe at the woodcutter’s cottage when I went to speak to Herr Choplin about his mother’s death. He…he kissed me.” Finally, she had someone to talk to about that earthshaking kiss, and about her own response: her world crashing down around her.
“Greta!” Rae exclaimed in shock. “You have such news and you let me ramble on and on! What did you do? Did you like it? Does he kiss well? What did the woodcutter say?”
Greta was interested in Prince von Hanzen; that was as obvious as the nose on her face. Perhaps, Rae could arrange some matchmaking, since Fennis and the prince were boon companions. She nodded slightly. She could do that, and would do that, for her wonderful sister. even though Greta would be a princess while she remained a poor, neglected baroness.
“It was wonderful—and Herr Choplin wasn’t there.”
As Greta continued, her heart bursting with joy, Rae sat back and listened. This was just what the doctor ordered. Rae had been too busy worrying what underhanded plans the artful little mischief-makers were hatching around her, and about the baron ignoring her, to even guess that her sister had been finding romance. Perhaps, Rae thought, one of them would end up with a happily ever after.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Don’t Throw the Baron Out with the Bathwater
Never trouble trouble, because trouble will eventually trouble you, as Rae well knew. Unfortunately, she’d had more than her share lately. Fen had finally arrived home, less than an hour after her sister left; only she, the new wife, still a blushing bride, had not been told. Fortunately, Heinrich had alerted her to her husband’s presence. The canny butler had also announced that the children were at the pond, ice-skating. Thus, she would have time to tell her husband about the unfortunate misadventure with the headless horseman before they did.
Dressing carefully, she plotted her strategy and chose a gown of soft blue velvet trimmed with a darker blue to accent her eyes. It was important that she looked as lovely as possible before confronting her husband. Let him see what he was ignoring by ignoring her…if he could still ignore her tonight.
As she finished her toilette, her maid delivered a gift: the most divine gown of deep green, with seed pearls and tiny emeralds sewn into the bodice. She read the accompanying note.
Since my children destroyed one gown,
I have decided to replace it.My apologies,
Fennis.
The gown was lovely, and wonder ate at her soul. He had thoughtfully brought her a present, and yet he denied her his presence.
Caressing the garment once more, Rae bravely, if with a little reluctance, marched to her husband’s room. In her rush, she almost knocked over Fen’s valet, who was leaving, a pair of breeches over his arm.
“Baroness Schortz, I’m afraid the baron is in his bath.”
Rae stared at him. “I’ve seen a naked man before,” she remarked. Seeing the shock on the valet’s face, she quickly added, “Statues, of course.” And with those words she hurried into the bedroom, slamming the door.
She halted about six feet from a tub that had been placed in front of a roaring fire. Fen was sitting in the overlarge bath, with water up to the lower part of his knees. His gray eyes were staring at her with a hint of curiosity and absolutely no modesty. She licked her lips, as her mouth suddenly felt dry.
“My, oh my,” she whispered. Fennis had big shoulders, and his skin shone like bronze in the light of the candles and fire. He looked so hard and so smooth—like a statue. Yet no sculpture she had ever seen could compare.
“Did you want something?” Fen asked, feeling his manhood stir. His innocent wife’s expression didn’t look so innocent at the moment. In point of fact, she was devouring him with her eyes. If she had been Fiona, she would have joined him in the tub, and a fine time would have been had by all. The thought made him sad and cooled his ardor. Without thinking, he said, “Nur wer die sehnsucht kennt.”
“What?” Rae managed to ask, forcing her eyes back to her husband’s face from her study of his fine chest and glistening skin. She was glad he could not read her mind. She had been prepared to tell him of her little folly, which wasn’t so very little, but his delightful body had sidetracked her good and honest intentions.
“None but the lonely heart,” he answered, a bit embarrassed upon repeating the sentiment. After his wife died, he had thought he would be lonely forever. Now he was remarried, but not much had changed.
“Why would you say that, my husband? You have a castle full of servants and…your brood, all of whom adore you.”
“A man can be lonely in a crowd. Lonely for his woman,” he answered. Then, realizing what he’d said, he began to soap himself. He started with his arms, the soap gliding smoothing over his bulging muscles.
“But you have a wife now,” Rae said. She was determined he would acknowledge the truth of this statement.
“Do I?”
“Yes,” she managed, watching the water glisten on his skin, which made her pulse leap. “Although you might not wish it.” Especially when she told him what she had done.
A sharp heat pierced her as she watched what could only be called pain pass through his eyes. Fen was lonely, terribly lonely, and she saw that now. He felt no connection to her. She was nothing to him, though he had begun to mean something to her.
“What did you want with me?” he asked when she just stood there.
Managing to regain her aplomb, Rae made a decision. But instead of blathering on, she decided to wait a few moments and silently enjoy the view. Once she told Fen of her misdeed, she might be ousted from his bedroom, perhaps even from his castle.
“I…the, uh, gown is lovely. Thank you. The color will look marvelous on me,” she said at last. Her throat burned as she suddenly realized she wanted to kiss him on that wondrously broad chest.
“You’re welcome. I hope it fits. The dressmaker in town had started it for another, but the fräulein had to leave suddenly. That’s one reason I’m late coming home. She finished it so I could bring it to you. I know it’s a bit dressier than your morning gown, but I thought the beadwork very fine.”
“It’s quite elegant. Verily, I appreciate you going to the trouble,” Rae replied sincerely. He had gone to such trouble, all when she wasn’t the helpmeet she was supposed to be.
When his wife continued to stand there and stare, Fen cocked his head and asked, “Was there something else?” He spoke in a suggestive manner.
He knew he was playing a dangerous game, and yet he was helpless to put an end to her blatant admiration.
He waited for Rae to say or do something. Her face was lovely as always, but her eyes held something new: a warmth which was both vivid and passionate.
She was trying to decide how to begin when his voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Rae?”
She looked up at him, nervous.
“Is there something more you wish of me?”
“A great deal more,” she said, and then was mortified to realize she’d spoken aloud.
Fen snorted. A sudden image of Rae caressing certain parts of his body was delicious torture. Still, he knew that he would be mad to make love to her. Rae would lead him a pretty dance: a promenade along the boardwalk of her self-congratulation, a gavotte of primping and pouting, a waltz through every fashionable shop for jewelry and clothing. Yet if he didn’t take her to bed soon, he might just expire. Even now he could see an image in his mind’s eye, a passionate tangle of limbs, satiny sheets and her glorious hair. She would whisper soft cries as he took her to paradise.
He groaned. This way lay madness.
Rae regained her scattered wits. “I wanted to remind you of your husbandly duties.” This was met by another snort, only this time the snort sounded like the blast of a canon. Fen was shaking with mirth. “What do you find so humorous?”
“Husbandly duties. At this point, that’s the last thing I need reminding of.”
Rae’s fascination with his naked body was actually making Fen feel rather special. She might have complained once about his size, but she certainly didn’t seem to mind now. If he was not mistaken, his virgin bride was very aware of him. She even wanted him, but innocent as she was, she could only manage a blush and a stare.
