The Daughters Grimm

by Minda Webber

  It was then that she discovered Fen hadn’t returned last night, though the butler was embarrassed to relay such information. It was inexcusable, Rae thought, seething. Her husband was doing his husbandly duties with some tart. It was a souring idea.

  She didn’t understand why she was being so maudlin, of course. Just because Fen stayed out all night in a drunken, debauched orgy was no concern of hers. Just because her new husband didn’t care for her very much, there were still plenty of others who did, besides her family. She just couldn’t think of any at the moment.

  “I’d like to lop off his ears with a butcher’s knife,” she muttered. Then, realizing what she’d just revealed, she shook her head at her own foolishness. Revealing her humiliation to the staff was never well done.

  “Horror of horrors, what if my aunt finds out?” she suddenly whispered, considering. Then, noticing the butler, she commented in a more normal tone, “The only thing worse than being gossiped about, is not being talked about at all.” Still, if her groom was already practicing infidelity, what would happen when he got it down pat? She would never live down the infamy.

  Was the tart prettier than her? Rae pondered momentarily. Then, realizing what a silly thought it was, she mentally shook her head. How could anyone be prettier if she was the fairest in all the land? Yet, another little voice nagged at her. If she were so perfect, why hadn’t her husband come home to do his husbandly duty? And while he was playing, she was praying, spending her nights in deadly dread of what new pranks her stepchildren would perpetrate next.

  Seeing the embarrassment on the new baroness’s face, the butler took pity on her. “The baron was called away to business on one of his other estates. Plus he had a meeting with Fürst von Hanzen. He will be gone again this night, but should be home on the morrow,” Heinrich explained. He was surprised to find his feelings softening toward her. He had heard that Rae Grimm was too full of herself, yet she had seemed concerned with the baron’s happiness.

  “Thank you, Heinrich. That relieves my mind,” she said. So, her husband of only a few nights wasn’t out tarting just yet. Yes, she was vastly relieved.

  “The baron is a busy man. He looks after his own, cares for all of us. My family has served the Schortzes for the past five generations. Though I’ve known the present baron’s father and grandfather, both good men, the baron is still the best by far. He’s loyal and true to his vows.”

  Rae was glad of the words, although she had already seen and judged much for herself. Fennis was an honorable man, and one capable of deep and abiding love. In the short time she had been around him, she had witnessed his love for his late wife and his children. He took his responsibilities seriously, and his servants were a mostly content and well-treated lot. Their clothes were also clean and of good materials, and they worked with a song in their hearts and smiles on their faces. Except, of course, when the savage seven were on the warpath.

  Yes, all bespoke a manor ran by a fair and firm hand—the firm and fair hand of her husband, who had yet to lay said hand upon her. Would it be gentle or fiercely tender with passion, as she had once dreamed? Or would Fennis remain forever locked in the self-imposed prison of his dead love?

  “Ja, the baron is a fine man, and Durloc is a fine place to live—even with them running about.”

  “Yes, the fly in the ointment is the baron’s brazen brood,” Rae agreed. Stiffening her spine, she stared the butler in the eye, trying to impress upon him the urgency of her request. “Heinrich, I have a proposition for you. One, I think, you may just well find not only helpful, but rewarding.” Her eyes danced with wicked intent as she explained her plan. Then the first footman was called and the whereabouts of the children ascertained, for she wanted none of the wily little imps to know of her plot.

  Upon learning that the children were ensconced in the stable yard, where they were most likely practicing dark rites, Rae preceded to speak. The butler and first footman were soon adding their own thoughts, and the scheme was hatched. From the baroness’s study, their long and loud laughter could be heard.

  Yes, they all agreed: “Tonight will be the night that the seven little dwarves get their well-deserved comeuppance.”

  Rae’s determined footsteps rapidly clip-clapped as she made her way to the door, then turned back and pointed a dainty finger at the beleaguered butler. “And be sure that the little culprits eat all their peas from now on! Have cook buy pea porridge soup, nine days, old. We’ll feed it to them for the next week. No, make that two weeks!” And with that, she left the room.

  The two servants were beaming. Heinrich glanced over at the first footman with a thoughtful expression on his face. “The new baroness may be a match for those seven youngsters,” he said.

  “That she might. She’ll give them a dickens of a time.” The footman wore a look of great expectations.

  Sometime later, the first footman espied the children returning from the stable, and he hurried to join Heinrich. The game was afoot, and peaceful living was at stake!

  The baron’s older boys passed by the butler’s pantry, where the first footman and Heinrich, their backs turned, conversed earnestly. “Hush, lest someone hear,” the butler warned, wanting exactly that.

  “But it’s so frightening. Do you think the curse is real?” the first footman asked. Too often he had been on the receiving end of the children’s pranks.

  “The new baroness received word today from her sister. It seems that their family has indeed been cursed by a gypsy. Alas, the letter arrived late, and tonight’s the night. Ja, this very night—the thirty-first—this hellish rider will ride!”

  Nap, listening intently, put his finger to his mouth to warn the twins from speaking. Quickly they darted behind the doors of the pantry, their greedy little ears listening.

  “It’s a bad curse. The worst! Do you think it’s really possible?”

  Heinrich sighed. “I do. Baroness Grimm’s family made the gypsy very angry, so she cursed all children in the marriage to suffer the fate of the Headless Horse man.” The butler knew he should feel a twinge of regret, but he didn’t. Not at all. The baron’s benighted brood had become near impossible to deal with these past few years, and someone needed to set them straight. It appeared the new baroness was just the fräulein for the job.

  Narrowing his eyes, Nap moved closer to the door to the butler’s pantry, motioning for Quinn to step back a few paces so they wouldn’t be seen. Ernst’s eyes were wide.

  “But a headless horse man is a fearsome thing. I’ve heard tell they ride by night with sword in hand, carrying their heads beneath their arms. And whom they seek, they find. And when they find them, they…” The first footman trailed off, his voice full of doom and gloom.

  “Whack, whack,” Heinrich finished. “Yes, I would warn the children at once, if the baroness hadn’t made me promise to keep silent. She said that she would find a way to defeat the curse.”

  Nap’s eyes narrowed even more. His new stepmother would leave them to the wolves—well, in this case the wolves were a headless demon.

  Ernst started to protest, to cry foul at their new mother’s plan, but Nap kept him to silence by a hard jab in the ribs.

  The first footman scratched his chin. “I don’t know how smart that is. The baron’s brood is a hardy and canny lot, and so is the new baroness. If anyone can end the curse, they can…but it’d be easier if they were working together. Of course, they’d not believe you. And they certainly wouldn’t believe their new stepmother, so where does that leave us?”

  “We must watch and take care. The baron would never forgive me if something happened to any of them.”

  “’Tis true, Heinrich…It’s a shame really,” the footman remarked after a moment, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “The baroness wouldn’t have any children if she hadn’t married the baron. Do you think the Headless Horse man will take all seven?”

  Heinrich managed to hide his smile. The devil himself couldn�
�t manage all seven of the Schortz swarm. “Nein. Probably only two or three.”

  Realizing that the conversation was about to end, the three boys departed, but not before the job was done. Worry was etched on their little faces, while laughter filled the servants’ hall.

  “Headless horse man?” Quinn gasped as they ran down the hallway to find their sisters.

  “Two or three? I don’t want it to be me,” Ernst remarked. Then, seeing his elder brother shoot him a look of disgust, he adjusted his statement. “I mean, I don’t want it to be any of us.”

  “What shall we do? We’re doomed. If only Papa were here. He’d save us and lop off the horse man’s head.”

  “His head’s already chopped off, you fool,” Ernst scolded his twin. “Nap, what will we do?”

  “Fight.” Nap spat out the words. No one would hurt his family. “Then we deal with our stepmother. How dare she bring her vanity and shallowness into our home along with a curse! What kind of family did my father marry into?”

  “A Grimm one,” Quinn replied.

  “Ja. Indeed he did,” Nap said. He’d brought home the Grimm Reaper.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Heads Will Roll

  There was a quote in the Bible about mischief following, and who were greater mischief-makers than the brimstone brood? It went something like “a tooth for a tooth, a foot for a foot, and a headless horse man for a flouring animosity.” Rae hid her snickers as she watched from her hiding place in the tack room; this prank would really satisfy her.

  The hour was late and the little monsters were sleeping in the barn, thinking to avoid the headless horse man by not being in bed. Rae’s smile grew wide. Afraid of the false curse, the children had banded together this night. They had giggled and plotted, hatched devious little schemes and so forth until the hour grew late. Shadows deepened and dark night was now upon them. They lay asleep. They had also left the candles burning, clearly afraid of the dark.

  Peering through a crack in the door, Rae noted that in sleep the brood was almost human, almost cute, almost innocent.

  Shivering, she drew her cloak closer. She had been stuck in this tack room for hours with no fireplace. Yet her frozen nose and feet would be worth it once the little imps were put firmly in their place. Besides, now that the children were all peacefully sleeping, Heinrich should soon arrive.

  She did not have long to wait. The butler’s approach was heralded by a loud banging. Next, the first footman suddenly threw open the doors of the stable. He was dressed in black, and hid in the shadows so as not to be seen. The children awoke with a start and a few screams. But neither the stable master nor the grooms would come to help this night, for they had been forewarned.

  A demonic cry filled the air. Rae shifted, opened the tack door wider and saw the butler on horse back, riding a massive black beast. Heinrich was dressed in a long flowing cape that covered his head. With the shadows and the inkiness of night, he appeared to be headless. Beneath his arm, he held a pumpkin with a face carved into it and a small lighted candle within. In his other hand he held a large sword.

  Another harsh cry rode the wind. Elbows and arms tangled as Nap and Quinn tried to jump up and defend their siblings. Alden, lamp in hand, flew beneath a hay pile, while Poppy climbed the ladder to the upper loft.

  Hand to mouth, Rae tried to stop her giggles. This was marvelous. This was no horse man of the Apocalypse, no Headless Horse man of Sleepy Hollow, but a sneaky butler with a hint of the thespian bred into his blood. Finally, and with great finesse, the little Schortzes were getting their just desserts: a pumpkin-headed pie in the face.

  “Be you the children of Rae Grimm Schortz?” Heinrich asked, his voice much lower than normal.

  A chorus of neins filled the air.

  “You lie.” The butler raised the pumpkin head high, along with the sword.

  Bravely Nap reached for his father’s sword, which he had laid by the pile of hay upon which they had been sleeping, only to discover it gone. Nap was unaware that his crafty stepmother had crept from her hiding place and hidden it elsewhere. Rae had also made sure all sharp implements were locked away, along with the baron’s dogs. She didn’t intend for Heinrich to get hurt while doing her this favor.

  Dumbfounded, Nap turned back toward the threat. His mind searched for a way to protect his siblings. “Run out the back door and go to the house. Rouse the servants!” he called.

  Shyla obeyed. Screaming for all she was worth, she ran. Merri, snatching Alden from his hiding place, was not far behind, with Ernst on her heels. “Run, run,” Merri screamed.

  “Oh, Heinrich’s good, he is,” Rae muttered, watching the whole bizarre scene unfold. The little imps were running about like chickens with their heads cut off. The pumpkin was an inspired touch, she realized; it was driving the kids out of their gourds. “My, but the taste of revenge is sweet.”

  “Quinn—run, you fool!” Nap ordered.

  “I can’t find the kittens,” Quinn cried. “I can’t let him hurt them.”

  “Forget the kittens. Go, now! Where’s Poppy?” Nap asked fearfully. Scanning the barn, he quickly spotted Poppy at the top of the ladder. He cried out, “Get down from there! We must flee!”

  The Headless Horse man waved his sword and screeched long and loud. “I must have my vengeance.” The sound caused Poppy to lose her footing, and she began to fall.

  Seeing a potential for disaster, Rae slipped from the tack room, heart pounding. Swiftly she ran the short distance to the ladder, holding out her arms. She took most of the brunt of Poppy’s fall. Unharmed, she handed the child to Nap, saying, “Run, before he gets you!”

  “What about you?” Nap asked, securing Poppy’s hold about his neck.

  “He’s after my children, not me.”

  “We’re not your children!” Nap argued.

  “Tell that to him,” Rae replied. The daunting sight of a headless man upon a huge horse apparently made her suggestion distasteful to the child.

  The horse man urged his horse farther into the barn, and Nap, Poppy and Rae retreated.

  “Where’s Quinn?” Nap asked. Then he saw his brother holding two kittens in his hands. “Run, Quinn! Run for your life!”

  The twin did as his brother asked, and Nap, seeing that, ran hard with Poppy. All would have been well, but Quinn tripped. One of the kittens flew out of his hands and landed near the massive horse. The horse reared. Quinn jumped up to recover the kitten before it was smashed beneath the horse’s hooves.

  The scene slowed, Rae frozen with terror. The hooves came down close enough to send dirt into Quinn’s eyes. “No!” she screamed. “No.” Without a thought for her safety, she dodged the flying hooves and pulled Quinn out from under.

  Heinrich tried to calm his mount, the pumpkin discarded, but again the deadly hooves came close. At last, Rae dragged Quinn and his two kittens from harm’s path.

  At the back entrance, Nap, Merri and Poppy stood silent. They had seen their stepmother rescue their brother. They had also seen the pumpkin head burst as the horse hooves landed on it, and Heinrich threw back his cloak, desperate to calm the horse.

  Rae knew the jig was up.

  Dusting off her skirt, she handed a kitten to Quinn. “It seems we’ve been found out,” she said to the butler.

  “How could you?” Nap asked. “And you, Heinrich, it’s a foul trick you played us!”

  The butler having dismounted, the first footman appeared and took the horse away, and Heinrich stood staring at all seven of the children. “Is it worse than pig bladders dropped on the footmen’s heads? Or being trapped under a settee with spiders? What about frogs in the chamber pots?”

  “Or ghosts in the hall?” Rae added. “Admit it. You children have gone to the dogs. You’re incorrigible.”

  “So you frighten us half to death? I lost my best pair of slippers running for my life,” Shyla retorted, her curls bouncing in her anger.

  “You endangered us!” Nap accused, his eyes dark.<
br />
  Rae nodded. “That I did. And I’m very sorry,” she admitted. “I meant no harm to any of you. I just wanted to make you think before you prank.”

  “I’m telling Papa,” Shyla said.

  “He’ll send you away for this,” Ernst remarked cheerfully. His smile faded somewhat, and he glanced at the butler. “I guess Heinrich will have to go, too. That will be sad. He makes such great faces when he sees a spider.”

  Drawing herself up to her fullest height, Rae stared hard at each child, her finger pointing at each one of them down their line as she counted them off and made sure of their safety. Looking at the little faces before her, she saw some change. She thought that Quinn looked grateful, along with Merri. Poppy smiled brightly. Yes, she had made some headway in this headless plot. But her scheming could have cost Quinn his life, and that was hard to stomach.

  “I shall tell your papa myself. It is past time that you savage seven be taught a lesson. Your papa, in his grief and your sorrow, has let you get away with nothing less than murder. It’s time for this tyranny to end. I’m sorry it frightened you as badly as it did. I’m sorry that Poppy almost fell and Quinn was almost hurt. But I’m not sorry that you got a taste of your own medicine. You have terrorized Castle Durloc for too long. How do you think the servants feel when you play your nasty little tricks on them? They work hard and serve this family proudly, yet you treat them so. They are afraid for their positions, so they don’t dare complain. That…is unfair.”

  Staring hard at Nap, she shook her head. “Someday you will be master here. Your servants deserve better. Heinrich stays.”

  Her words angered Fen’s eldest son. But they also had the ring of truth. Ashamed, he nodded.