by Caroline Lee
Max’s laugh proved that he understood both of his friends. “You’d better take that compliment back, Gordy. Dmitri here has eyes for Zelle, and something tells me that he’s not a sharing man.” Dmitri’s growl was unintentional, but only made Max chuckle again. “See?” But then he turned his banter on Dmitri. “But Gordy’s right. Zelle’s parents don’t let her out very much. Very over-protective.”
Dmitri knew that. He knew all about her aggravation with her parents’ over-protective natures and her dreams to experience more of the world. “Don’t worry, you’ll see her stepping out more often. On my arm.”
The other two men laughed, and then Max’s casual comment made Dmitri think that maybe he didn’t know all there was to know about the Carpenters: “Well, it’s hard to imagine Doc Carpenter objecting to a duke courting his daughter. I always figured that the reason he was so protective of her was that things were so wild out here when the two of them showed up. But even after Meredith married him, the two of them kept her under their eyes pretty much constantly.”
Dmitri slowly sat up from his slouch, his brain clicking through the things she’d told him, a niggling at the back of his head telling him that there was something he’d been missing. “Wait. The Carpenters weren’t married when they arrived in Everland?”
“Nope. I heard it from Briar, who heard it from Zelle, that her mother was one of those mail-order brides Jack sent for right after he settled here.”
Gordon started to speak, but Dmitri couldn’t let him. Not when he was so close to making a connection, to confirming the horrible suspicion that had just begun to lurk. “You mean Jack Carpenter came from the East—“ Hadn’t she said he’d been in New York at some point? And wasn’t “Jack” an American derivative of “John”? “—with Zelle, and then married his wife here in Everland?”
Max nodded, one brow raised in a question that Dmitri couldn’t answer. It wasn’t his secret to tell. Instead, he exhaled, knowing—knowing—that he’d solved the mystery of the missing princess. Zelle. Of course. Of course!
What was it that she’d said about her name? My father says that I chose it. It hadn’t made any sense to either of them, but now… What if her father wasn’t really her father? What if he was the John Gothel, who’d been the kidnapper’s partner? What if he’d called her “Zelle” because that’s what she called herself, when she was taken at such a young age? He remembered a letter from the little girl’s mother to his own mother; one that Otets had shared before his death:
She’s been christened Wilhelmina Gertrude, but she’ll always be my little Rapunzel. Her father says that I’m wrong to give her such a silly nick-name, but her eyes are the exact color of my favorite food. Remember how I told you I ate it by the barrel during my confinement? A part of me wonders if that’s where her beautiful, clear-green eyes came from. My little Rapunzel…
Dmitri had that letter, and the others sent from Bavaria to his mother over the years. He’d brought them to America in case he found the kidnapper, or the girl. At the time, he’d cursed himself for a fool, sure that they were just taking up space in his luggage. But it suddenly seemed possible that he’d found her after all.
But Oh, God. If he’d found her, if Zelle really was the lost princess his father had sent him after…everything would change. She had to know. He had to tell her. No, first he had to find out the truth, from the people who were masquerading as her parents. Then she would find out. Either from him, or from them. But it wasn’t fair that she continue to live her life as…
As what?
As a young woman raised by a caring couple, who—while over-protective—understood and loved her? A young woman who’d been given everything her parents could give her, even as they tried to keep her safe?
Dmitri sighed, acknowledging that things weren’t as simple as he’d thought, when he had set out to find and punish the girl’s kidnappers. But Zelle had to be told. And then… And then, what? An hour ago he’d made plans to stay here in Everland, to be with her. But now…
Now he couldn’t do that to her. If Jack Carpenter was John Gothel, one of the men who’d kidnapped his parents’ goddaughter, then he would have to pay. And how could Dmitri do that to her? How could he ask her to consider loving him, to consider accepting his courtship, if he was the one who brought her world crumbling down around her like that?
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He would discover the truth, and do what his father had asked him to do. But if, in doing so, he tore apart the Carpenters’ happy family, he couldn’t force his presence on Zelle. On Everland.
“Dmitri? Hey, Dmitri. You looked lost there for a bit.” Max’s smile was teasing, but his eyes looked worried. So Dmitri shook himself, not sure exactly what he was going to do, but knowing that he needed time to figure it out.
“I’m sorry. I just…I realized something.” He stood, and nodded towards the bottle. “Enjoy that, friends.” They were his friends, and would be even if he left Everland to return to his now-empty home. They’d taught him something valuable about equality, and about himself. “I don’t need any more, but I do need…to think.”
Gordon lifted his glass in a mock-salute, and Max nodded, his dark brows drawn in. “Be safe, Dmitri.”
Trying for a smile, Dmitri nodded. “Thank you. For everything.” He wanted to tell Max not to bother looking for those thoroughbreds, but couldn’t bring himself to ruin the new partnership yet. After all, maybe he was wrong.
But as he pulled on his hat and stepped into the Everland night, he knew that he wasn’t. He’d found her. He’d found the lost princess, and lost himself in the process.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zelle still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to talk her parents into tonight, but somehow it had worked. Papa had flat-out refused to have that stuck-up nosy aristocrat in his house, no matter how much she’d begged to invite Dmitri to dinner. But then she’d taken a deep breath, and confessed:
I love him, Papa.
You do not. You barely know him!
He understands me, he talks to me like I’m normal, and not some hidden-away recluse who thinks she’s too good for the rest of the town! That’s what Briar says everyone thinks about me. He sees me, and I love him for it!
Absolutely not, young lady. Dmitri Volkov is dangerous, for you and for—
But then Mother had placed her hand on Papa’s forearm, and he’d swallowed whatever nonsense he was abut about say. She just looked at Papa, in one of those mysterious married-couple-communication ways, and his shoulders had slowly relaxed.
She loves him, Jack.
Papa had glared at both of them before stomping off, and Zelle had been allowed to send her invitation. To her delight, Dmitri’s acceptance had returned in only a few hours, and now she was beyond nervous.
She was dressed in her finest lavender silk, the lace around the elbows making her feel like a real queen, rather than just Papa’s princess. She’d wanted to do her hair up in one of those elaborate styles, but didn’t think it was possible without Briar’s help. Besides, there wasn’t any time for anything besides her usual simple braid, since she spent the afternoon tidying the first floor and making dinner.
Papa’s favorite was her individual chicken potpies, so she’d decided to indulge him. They probably weren’t as fancy as the meals Dmitri was used to, but at least they were delicious, so she had high hopes for them. She really wanted to impress him tonight, which was why, after she’d popped the last of the pies into the oven, she hurried upstairs to check her skirt for smudges, and wash her face and hands. She was going to look perfect.
And now she paced in the front hall, chewing on her fingernail, and trying to ignore the murmuring that came from her father’s office. She knew her parents were talking about her—and Dmitri—but hopefully she and Dmitri could impress them tonight.
When the knock came, she was standing close enough to pull the door open before his hand fell. He was wearing his fine blue jacket with the fancy gold frogging, and carrying
his cane and top hat again. He looked exactly the way a prince should look; which is to say, nothing at all like the men of Everland, Wyoming.
But when he smiled, she remembered why he wasn’t other men. His even teeth were framed by the lips she even now wanted to taste, and her fingers were just itching to feel that thick golden hair and tanned skin. Gosh, he really was handsome, wasn’t he?
“Zelle, honey? Aren’t you going to invite your guest in?” Mother’s gentle prodding reminded Zelle that she’d been standing at the door for a full minute, just staring at Dmitri. But in her defense, he’d been staring back at her. She wondered if her smile looked as silly as it felt.
What followed was a not-as-awkward-as-she’d-been-expecting greeting. Mother at least pretended excitement that Dmitri was visiting, and Papa…well, Papa didn’t say anything rude as he glared at the younger man and shook his hand, so Zelle counted that as a win. She understood her father’s irritation, she really did; he’d spent the last almost-eighteen years protecting her from everyone and everything, and then she’d invited a man into his home. And not just any man, but a man she loved. Of course Papa was going to be bothered by the idea of his little “Princess” growing up… But he was going to have to get used to the idea, because not only was Zelle grown up, but she was in love.
And now that Dmitri was here, smiling at her, she was sure that he would show her parents exactly why she’d fallen in love with him.
But dinner was…well, it wasn’t what she’d expected. Dmitri, despite his warmth towards her in the foyer, was reserved and formal throughout the meal, showing none of the charm she’d been counting on to win her parents. It wasn’t that he was nervous, no; from the way those expressive lips of his pulled tight at the edges, and the way his eyes were carefully hooded, she knew that he was angry about something.
But what? And why in the world did he have to be angry now? Her one chance to prove to her parents that he was a good man, and worthy of her…and he had to spend the whole meal stewing silently, and answering her Mother’s questions as succinctly as possible. If she wasn’t sitting across the table from him, she’d kick his shin, just to make him see how badly she wanted—needed—this evening to go well.
Why was he being such a grump?
Papa, on the other hand, seemed to suddenly be as lively as Dmitri wasn’t. He kept up a one-sided conversation throughout the meal, all about his practice and the history of the town of Everland. If not for Mother’s pointed queries towards Dmitri, or Zelle’s increasingly disheartened attempts to engage him in conversation, Papa would’ve been the only one speaking.
“And that’s why you should apparently not stand too close to a cow when she’s giving birth. But he’ll heal, thanks to that tourniquet his wife thought to slap on. Quick thinking, that woman.” Papa used the side of his fork to clean the last of the sauce from his plate, obviously satisfied.
Mother, however, was less thrilled with his monopoly of the conversation. “Fascinating, dear.” But her neutral expression turned to a frown when Papa reached over and picked up Zelle’s mostly-uneaten potpie—she’d just been picking at her food since she realized how poorly the meal was going—and switched it with his empty plate. He was grinning when he stabbed his fork into her pie, and she would’ve smiled at his enthusiasm for her cooking, were he not using terrible table manners on the one night she wanted to go perfectly.
“Papa,” she tried not to blush too heavily, “I’d be happy to make your favorite again tomorrow.” It was obvious that he was being rude on purpose. Probably trying to alienate Dmitri, who was a duke, for heaven’s sakes. He was probably used to a much different dining experience.
“Why bother?” Oh gosh, now he was talking with his mouth full. “There’s plenty here.” Oh, and now he was waving his fork around. Zelle exchanged a horrified look with her mother. “Aren’t you going to finish, Mr. Volkov? This is one of my daughter’s specialties.” A pause, while he swallowed the food he’d been chewing, and Zelle wanted to sink into the chair in embarrassment. Imagine, calling a guest’s attention to their own half-eaten meal! “Or don’t you think it’s good enough for you?”
No one could mistake the challenge in that last question. Zelle sucked in a breath at the same moment that Mother chastised him. “Jack! Don’t be rude.”
But Dmitri actually seemed to come to life. He met Papa’s angry glare across the table, and actually sat forward a bit. Very properly, he folded his napkin and placed it next to his plate, and she saw his hand curl into a fist beside his water glass. “Actually, Doctor Carpenter, I thought the meal was delicious. I’ve had other things on my mind, though.”
“What other things?” Zelle didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that Papa was thinking of her declaration of love towards Dmitri, and she held her breath, waiting for an answer. Was that why Dmitri was so angry this evening? Was he about to confess something important?
Oh gosh, is he about to break my heart?
He did neither. Instead, she watched as the tall, handsome man who’d been so open and caring just the other day and who was now practically a stranger stood up, towering over them all. “I think that this conversation would be better suited for the parlor. If you don’t mind joining me there?”
And then, just like this was his home, where he was free to order people about, Dmitri turned and stalked out of the room. Zelle and her mother exchanged worried, helpless looks, and stood up to follow. What had happened to her Dmitri? Why was he acting so… so…
So regal? So imperious? So ducal and princely? So foreign.
So not the Dmitri she’d fallen in love with.
It was best to get this over with.
The dinner had been interminable, and despite his best intentions to be involved and charming. Somehow, being here in the house with the couple who might’ve kidnapped a helpless little girl, he’d lost all of his politeness.
Sitting across from Zelle had been the worst; he’d seen the confusion in her expression, and knew that he was the cause of it. Knew that she was trying to reconcile the Dmitri she’d met with the Dmitri who now sat sullenly picking at her admittedly delicious dinner. Most of the time, he couldn’t even meet her eyes, knowing what he had to tell her tonight. Knowing that he’d probably break her heart, to hear this about her “parents.”
And knowing that he couldn’t be here to help her overcome.
In the day since he’d made his realizations, and since he’d received her invitation to dinner, he’d come to a decision; no matter how enthralled he was by Everland, and how much he loved Zelle, he couldn’t stay here. If he did, then every time she’d see him, she’d think of the way he’d broken her family, and brought her devastation. No, it was better that he leave her to figure out her own future, to make her own decisions without the added complication of a suitor who’d ruined her life.
Dmitri paced in the small parlor, impatient for the Carpenters to arrive and take their positions. Now that he’d made up his mind to confront Jack Carpenter, he wanted it done.
“Well, son? What’s this about?” Jack was the last to arrive, standing stiffly beside the mantel. Meredith and Zelle were seated on a settee, and Dmitri tried not to feel guilty about the way they were clutching one another’s hands under the folds of their skirts. He himself was pacing in front of the double open windows that faced the empty street.
Finally, he took a deep breath, planted his feet, and met Jack’s eyes. “I want to tell you a story. A story about why I’m here in Everland.”
“By all means.” The false doctor’s little head nod was irritating, but Dmitri just gritted his teeth.
“My mother was English, the daughter of an Earl. Her childhood best friend married a man from Bavaria, a prince. Like my father, and his before him, this man wasn’t prince of much, but he held the title, and that is compelling to some.” He tried to not think about how much the title had done for him in his life; he’d thought to give up all that fawning and sycophant-ing when he realized how muc
h he enjoyed life here in Everland. “They were apparently quite happily married, as my parents were, but were unable to have children for a long while.”
He watched as Jack exchanged a look with his wife. Dmitri met Zelle’s eyes. “But this part of their story is happy. You see, they had a little girl. I was eight years old when I attended the little blonde girl’s christening, and saw my parents appointed as her godparents. She was baptized as Wilhelmina Gertrude, but her mother called her ‘Rapunzel’, because her bright green eyes reminded her mother of the greenery in the palace gardens. “
At the name “Rapunzel”, Zelle slowly untangled her fingers from her mother’s, and wove them together on her own lap. He saw that she was trying her hardest to remain calm, but there was panic in her eyes. Meredith Carpenter—was that even her real name?—exchanged frantic looks with her husband, and then put her arm around the young woman sitting beside her.
“That’s enough, Mr. Volkov.” Jack’s voice was deep and harsh and not a little threatening, but Dmitri wasn’t about to back down.
“No sir, it’s not. You see, shortly after we returned home, we got word that the little girl’s father had died, and his place had been usurped by a distant cousin, who was infinitely better-suited for rule than an infant princess. My parents wrote and encouraged their friend to come stay with them in Russia, but the princess’s mother—Lady Sophia—wanted to travel. She took her daughter back to England, knowing that not only was there no place for her in Bavaria, but that the little girl would be in danger if she stayed. They remained in London for a year, but since Sophia’s family was all dead and the Earldom had passed on to a cousin, they decided to travel again. My parents received one letter from New York City—which I have in my possession, as well as the others, in case you doubt my story—detailing how happy she was to be in this strange new land… And then they didn’t hear from her again. Ever.”