Fairy Tale Romance Collection

by Melanie Dickerson

  Sophie stepped forward, but she would never be able to intercept him before he reached Roslind. She knew from experience how determined Heinric could be. How would Roslind react to such a welcome? Sophie had known her to dissolve into tears with much less provocation.

  When Heinric had almost reached Roslind, Siggy managed to intercept him, stepping in front of him and locking him in a bear hug.

  Sophie breathed a sigh of relief as Siggy forcefully nudged Heinric away from Roslind, and Vincz and Dolf quickly stepped in to assist and help calm Heinric, speaking to him in placating tones.

  “Gentlemen,” Sophie said, “these are my friends from Hohendorf Castle. This is Roslind.”

  Sophie didn’t miss the look of shy but ardent admiration in Siggy’s eyes as he nodded politely to Roslind, who smiled at the men. Her gaze seemed to lock on Siggy as well. An expression of shy confusion came over her face and she looked down.

  “And this —”

  Sophie was cut off by Dominyk. “This is my sister, Lady Petra Kukelbrecht.”

  Sophie tried to take in his words. Petra was a “lady”? How could that be? She was a cook at the castle.

  From the look on Petra’s face, she was quite uncomfortable with the sudden attention, so Sophie invited everyone to come to the table and partake of the midday meal.

  The table was quieter than usual. Sophie longed to talk to Petra, but she was all the way at the other end of the table sitting by her brother. Together they spoke in hushed tones between bites. Roslind sat to Sophie’s right, but she was unusually silent. Siggy sat across from her, and their eyes met many times — Roslind’s eyes wide, Siggy’s serious and intense.

  Then Dominyk cleared his throat. “Sophie, have you told Petra and Roslind what happened to the duchess?”

  When Sophie shook her head, the table became quite lively as the men explained what had happened — the duchess showing up in disguise, trying to kill Sophie, and then drowning in the river.

  Sophie allowed the men to tell it all. She was glad she no longer had to fear the duchess — that Petra and Roslind no longer had to fear her — but the subject brought up painful memories. Gabe’s words kept going through her mind: Let God heal you.

  Petra, Roslind, and the Seven all speculated what would happen to the village of Hohendorf and the servants who were left at the castle.

  Dominyk said, “King Sigismund will have to be notified. I suppose I should write the letter myself, informing him that Duchess Ermengard has died. And there is the matter of who will inherit the duchy of Hohendorf.”

  Everyone turned to look at Sophie.

  “Me?”

  “You are Duke Baldewin’s only heir,” Petra said gently.

  “But there is no proof that I am she.”

  “He has only my word, then.” Petra sat very straight, holding her head at a regal angle, and she did not look anything like a cook.

  Monks — or men who dwelled in monasteries — were not to be rushed, apparently.

  Gabe prayed for the strength not to strangle his future father-in-law for the fiftieth time. It seemed Baldewin was determined to take his time in quitting his home of fifteen years. After he’d supped the night before, he’d insisted they sleep before departing, and had spent the morning saying formal farewells to every man at the monastery. The process was interrupted many times so the duke could spend several minutes to an hour praying in various alcoves, or at certain graves and tombs. Only after every inch of the grounds had been visited would he even consider the gathering of his belongings. Gabe was exhausted from the waiting.

  How much longer is the man going to take? Doesn’t he want to see his daughter?

  The duke seemed to be stalling. Perhaps he was afraid of what he’d encounter at the cottage.

  Gabe confronted the former duke as they sat down at the long trestle table to break their fast. “Are you afraid your daughter won’t forgive you? Or is there another reason for all these delays?”

  Baldewin gave him a long, unblinking stare. Standing, he was a few inches shorter than Gabe, a rather small man, but he had a stare that would wilt flowers. Gabe began to wish he had prayed for more patience about the man’s slowness rather than goading him.

  “The work of God cannot be rushed. The young are impulsive, eager to take action, but the wise man waits for God’s direction.” The duke turned and stared out the open window behind them.

  He was right, of course. But if they didn’t get back soon, Gabe’s father and brother might reach Sophie before they did and carry her off to Hagenheim. Would his father insist Sophie marry Valten soon after they arrived? Would she be too intimidated by them to protest?

  Gabe could hardly bear the thought of such a thing. To see Sophie married to his brother, to know he could never have her …

  “I understand how you must feel, sir, but a man sometimes feels a call to action, to act on behalf of those unable to act on their own. Surely you can understand —”

  “I understand. We shall leave directly after breakfast.”

  “Oh, thank you, sir.” Gabe felt such a surge of relief, he almost hugged the man.

  Baldewin frowned. “But not all your urges are from God.” His eyebrows lowered sternly.

  “Yes, sir. Of course not.”

  The man would be as uncomfortable a companion as one might expect his future father-in-law to be.

  That night Sophie, Petra, and Roslind took turns brushing each other’s hair. The two women would bed down in Sophie’s room in the two empty beds, which would be more comfortable than the cots they had slept on at Hohendorf Castle, and much more comfortable than the nights they had slept on the ground as they had made their way to the Cottage of the Seven.

  Sophie had already told the two women about falling in love with Gabe and their plans to marry. “I just don’t know how things will work out.”

  Petra was in the middle of brushing Roslind’s hair when she looked over her shoulder at Sophie. “You must not worry. Gabe is the sort of man who will do anything for the woman he loves.”

  “I know you’re right, Mama Petra. I just wish we could be wedded tomorrow.”

  Roslind sighed. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a wedding at this cottage? Everything is much nicer here compared to the castle.”

  Both Sophie and Petra nodded, and Sophie prodded them to tell her about their journey from Hohendorf.

  Roslind, with her usual forthrightness, told of all their hardships and the amazing ways God had provided for them. They hadn’t even seen a wolf the entire time they journeyed, which was quite fortunate. But they had had a close call with a bear, one cold night when they hadn’t been able to find even rudimentary shelter, and the second night, they’d had to go to sleep hungry, but in the end, they arrived at the Cottage of the Seven unscathed.

  The three sat together, their knees touching, on Sophie’s bed.

  Sophie finally asked Petra, “If you are a lady, then who were your parents? And how did you come to at Hohendorf Castle?”

  “I am Baron Kukelbrecht’s daughter. And I came to Hohendorf Castle because I loved your father.”

  Sophie tried not to show too much shock and amazement. When Petra simply stared down at her hands in her lap, Sophie gently said, “Go on.”

  “I knew your father, Duke Baldewin, when we were children. I was always a bit in love with him. He had blue eyes, just like yours.” She smiled at Sophie, finally looking at her. “He was gentle and kind but also very intense and serious. After his first wife, your mother, died, I met him again at a ball given at Hagenheim Castle. But he was so grief-stricken, he couldn’t talk about anything but her — and you.”

  “My father spoke of me?” Sophie’s voice trembled, and she cleared her throat.

  Petra reached out and stroked Sophie’s cheek. “Yes, of course. He loved you very much.”

  As the pause became longer, Sophie urged, “Go on. You saw him at Hagenheim.”

  “I saw him that one night, and then he left. I could
n’t get him out of my thoughts. Foolishly, I traveled to Hohendorf, just to see him. I hoped … well, I hoped I could get him to fall in love with me.” She stared down at her lap, her head bowed low. “It was an ill-conceived, impulsive plan. No plan at all, when I think about it. I … I had always loved him, and I didn’t want to lose him if there was a chance he might marry me now that his wife had died.” She shook her head. “He was not there when I arrived, and I did not reveal my identity to anyone. I managed to get hired as a cook, even though I knew nothing about preparing a meal. Pinnosa taught me everything I knew after I told her who I was and confided in her I was in love with Duke Baldewin.

  “She and I often took turns helping your nurse take care of you, allowing her to visit her family in the village from time to time. And I loved you, hoping that one day” — her voice became a whisper as her breath caught in her throat — “I might call you my own daughter.” A tear dripped from her eye and fell onto her hand. “But when your father returned a few months later, he had already remarried. Married that fiend, Ermengard.”

  Petra began to sob softly into her hands. “Forgive me,” she said, between sobs, “I am sorry.”

  When Petra’s sobs had subsided and she’d wiped her face with the handkerchief Sophie gave her, Sophie asked, “Why did you stay?”

  “Because I loved him. And I loved you. I was afraid for you both when I realized how insane and cruel your stepmother was. Your father rarely saw me, as I stayed in the kitchen, and I was often so shy around him I averted my face. But when I saw him, I noticed he began to look even more haggard than he had when he’d been grieving your mother. That witch, Ermengard, was killing him, probably poisoning him, or at the very least torturing him with her evil nature. I wanted so much to help him, to help you, but what could I do, short of killing her? Perhaps that would have been the kindest thing I could have done, but I didn’t have the courage.” Petra buried her face in the handkerchief.

  Sophie patted her shoulder. Roslind had lain down on her bed and fallen asleep. No doubt they were both exhausted from their long, hard trip. But Sophie had to hear the rest of the story.

  “Pinnosa and I believed Ermengard must have given you a sleeping potion, hoping to convince Baldewin you were dead. You were only two years old … They went through the entire funeral rites. The priest assumed you were dead too. And immediately following the funeral, Baldewin … disappeared. No one knows what happened to him. I believe Ermengard poisoned him as well.

  “Ermengard must have recovered your body, however, because the next morning, you were found in your bed. That’s when a few of the household servants, including myself, realized you were alive. Ermengard got rid of all of them except Pinnosa and me. I don’t know why she kept us on. Maybe she thought because we worked in the kitchen we wouldn’t realize who you were. But the fact that you were alive never made it beyond the castle.”

  “Until Pinnosa told Gabe and his father.” Sophie’s heart was pounding.

  “Yes.”

  “But what happened to my father? How did she kill him so quickly?”

  “I don’t know. Ermengard told everyone he was dead, but there was no funeral, no body. I used to believe he was alive, but I didn’t know where he would have gone, and I didn’t know where to search for him, so I stayed at Hohendorf to protect you. With your father gone, you became my reason to stay.”

  “Do you think my father could still be alive?”

  “I don’t want to get your hopes up, Sophie … It’s been so long. I don’t think he is.”

  “But he could be,” Sophie said. And he thinks I’m dead.

  Petra touched her arm. “Perhaps I should have waited to tell you.”

  A heavy weight settled over Sophie, but she didn’t want Petra to see how sad her story had made her feel. “I am well. Thank you for telling me the truth.” She forced a smile. Petra, a lady, and in love with Sophie’s father. Somehow it didn’t seem so strange. It was almost as if she had always known.

  Petra settled down on her own bed and was soon asleep. Sophie lay awake, praying, “Please bring Gabe back tomorrow. And please let my father be alive.”

  Valten kept his head up and his eyes alert, scanning the surrounding forest while the horses drank from the slow-moving river.

  As soon as Walther had arrived in Hagenheim with Gabe’s letter, confirming that Walther had helped Gabe and would make an excellent addition to Duke Wilhelm’s guard, Valten and his father had extracted from him the entire story of how Gabe had escaped from Duchess Ermengard with a scullery maid named Sophie who was believed to be Duke Baldewin’s daughter. Since then Valten had only been able to think about one thing, and that was getting to Sophie and bringing her back to Hagenheim where she would be safe.

  Of course, Valten couldn’t be certain that this scullery maid was Sophia Breitenbach, the daughter of Duke Baldewin Breitenbach, but it seemed very likely.

  Father was concerned about Gabe. Walther had informed them that Gabe had been injured and was unable to ride, though he was being tended by a monk at a cottage of seven … rather uncommon men. But Valten believed that Gabe would be well. He was strong and young and should mend quickly. At least he had kept Sophie safe and unharmed. Valten wouldn’t admit it to his father, but he was impressed Gabe hadn’t gotten both himself and the girl killed. He should never have attempted such a dangerous rescue by himself, against their father’s advice. Sophie wasn’t his betrothed, after all. She belonged to Valten. And he would have gone after her in due time.

  He glanced down at his leg. The healer said the break wasn’t completely healed, but it seemed perfectly sound to him. He wore a splint because otherwise his father, on advice of the healer, would not have let him come on this errand to fetch Sophie and Gabe.

  It had become much too dark to ride, so tomorrow, Valten, his father, and six of their strongest knights would let Walther resume his lead as they rode at a hurried pace through the trees, continuing to follow a small path south.

  South to find the Cottage of the Seven, his reckless little brother, and his own betrothed — the beautiful Sophia.

  Tomorrow he would meet his bride.

  Chapter

  26

  Sophie, Petra, and Roslind were washing clothes together behind the cottage. Birds were singing and the sun was shining warmly on their shoulders. Sophie and her two companions had risen early to make breakfast for everyone and had spent the time discussing the duchess and what had happened to her. The three of them spoke in hushed tones as they prepared the food. Petra told Sophie what had happened at the castle after Sophie had escaped — the duchess had locked herself in her chamber and screamed at anyone who tried to bring her food or clean her room.

  But during breakfast, they threw off the pall that had fallen over them from talking about the duchess, and now they laughed as they talked and stirred the clothes in the large black pot over the outdoor fire pit. They took some out to cool and to scrub some more before hanging them on the line.

  Petra lifted her head, as though to listen, and then Sophie heard it too. Was that thunder? But then Sophie realized it was not thunder, but horses’ hooves.

  Gabe!

  But as the sound drew nearer she realized it was a lot more than one or two horses. It sounded like a small army. She waited, her heart thumping inside her.

  Bartel came out of his chapel to stand beside the women as the riders broke through the dense wood and headed toward them, horses snorting and shifting their feet as they came to a halt a few feet away.

  Sophie immediately recognized Walther, and she knew. Gabe had not made it back before his father had come for her. She grabbed Petra’s arm for support.

  “Good day to you,” Bartel said, calmly nodding at the men.

  “Good day,” said a man with dark brown hair that was sprinkled with a small amount of gray. He sat straight and regal on his large black horse. From his familiar features, Sophie realized he must be Gabe’s father.

  “I am Duke Wilhe
lm of Hagenheim, and these are my men. We come in search of Gabehart Gerstenberg and a young lady, called Sophie, who was with him. We were told they were being sheltered in the Cottage of the Seven.”

  “Your Grace, you have come to the Cottage of the Seven. You are very welcome here,” Bartel said solemnly, then nodded his head at her. “This is Lady Sophia, daughter of Duke Baldewin. But your son, Lord Gabehart, is not here.”

  “Not here?” Duke Wilhelm sounded annoyed. The duke fixed Bartel with a fierce gaze.

  “No, Your Grace. He left for Gemeinhart Monastery several days ago and has not returned.”

  Gabe’s father seemed to control himself with effort as he gripped his saddle horn. “What business did he have at Gemeinhart Monastery?”

  “He —” Bartel looked at Sophie and hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  Bartel gave Sophie an apologetic look, then turned back to Duke Wilhelm. “He went there to find Duke Baldewin.”

  Sophie felt her knees go weak, and she held tighter to Petra’s arm. Then she noticed all the blood had drained from Petra’s face and she was swaying slightly. Sophie steadied Petra as best she could while trying not to let her own knees buckle. Why hadn’t Gabe told her?

  “Duke Baldewin is dead,” Duke Wilhelm said, but his tone sounded uncertain.

  “He was alive, Your Grace, when I left the monastery seven years ago.”

  Duke Wilhelm’s eyes conveyed calm acceptance as he nodded. Sophie thought she heard him murmur, “Praise God,” echoing her own thought.

  The duke dismounted, and the young man behind him followed his lead. Duke Wilhelm stepped toward her and sank to one knee. He grasped her hand and said, “My Lady Sophia, I am honored.” He bowed over her hand, then abruptly stood and backed away.

  The young man behind him immediately took his place in front of her. He also knelt before her and took her hand, and then he kissed it.

  His voice was gruff and his expression seemed carved from stone, and the several small scars on his face were like careless nicks from the sculptor’s chisel. “Lady Sophia,” he said. “I am Valten, your betrothed.”