by Minda Webber
Satisfied, Rae took her leave, along with Heinrich. Once inside the castle, she instructed the first footman to go and rouse the cook. “Tell him the children will be hungry.”
As they walked back through the castle, the baron’s brood discussed the repercussions from the night. Most wanted their stepmother’s head on a platter, but a few thought hard on their new mother’s words.
“She saved my life and the kittens,” Quinn said adamantly. “It was very brave.”
“She’s the one who put you in danger,” Shyla argued.
“I say we think up something worse than a headless horse man to scare her back,” Ernst suggested, his eyes alight with sly determination. “Heinrich as well.”
“We could always tell her the truth,” Merri remarked. “That would scare the daylights out of her.” But then she stopped herself, remembering how their stepmother had risked her life to save Quinn.
“We tell her nothing about the secret,” Nap protested heatedly. “And Quinn, the next time you do something so stupid, I’ll beat you to a pulp. You could have been killed!”
“I’mma tell Papa,” Poppy said. “You’re not supposed to hit each other.”
“I hope he makes our new mother leave,” Ernst grumbled. “That headless horse man plot was just plain mean.”
“I hope Papa doesn’t,” Quinn disagreed. “And her plan was pretty sly.”
“Wish I’d thought of it,” Nap said through clenched teeth.
“I think our new stepmother’s plan was wicked and nasty and horrid,” Shyla pouted, her lip stuck out.
“I’m hungry,” Merri announced.
This remark sent the seven little Schortzes into the kitchen, where they all did what they did best—bickered— until they were fed. Rae had been right to suggest Cook prepare a meal.
Rae peeked in on the children before hurrying up to her warm, cozy bed. Pranks were exhausting work. She wearily climbed the stairs while saying a quick prayer of thanks. She was lucky the children hadn’t been hurt; Rae didn’t know how she would have faced Fennis if Quinn or Poppy had been injured. Or worse…She shuddered. This would be her first and last prank, and she hoped the children would end their reign of terror as well.
Suppressing a yawn, she entered her quarters and carefully locked the door. She might have won tonight’s battle, but the larger question still loomed: Had she won the war?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
May the Schortz Be with You
The morning after the night of the Headless Horse man was a quiet one, which surprised Rae. No menacing little footsteps rampaged above. No shrill shrieks or devious laughter. Yes, all was quiet on the Prussian front.
Rae had slept late, exhausted as she was from the night’s madcap adventures. She also felt a bit guilty. The children’s faces when they’d beheld the headless rider would forever be imprinted upon her mind. Perhaps she had gone a bit too far. But then, what choice had she had? It was either her or them. Naturally she had chosen herself.
Staring into the mirror, she shook her head. This morn, she did not feel the fairest in all the land. The children might never hold her in affection, even though she had saved Poppy from a bad fall and Quinn from being trampled. Shuddering slightly, she wondered what her husband would say when he found out. Fennis would not be happy that she had played such a prank: one that had exposed his beloved kinder to danger. She only hoped he would listen to her explanation before condemning her to a life of bread, water and no new gowns. Desperate situations required desperate measures. The meek might inherit the earth, but the devious and wily were going to make her earthly stay a hellish one in the meantime.
Dressing, she decided to thank the servants for their help in last night’s plot. She would also assure them that the baron would not hold any of them responsible for what she had asked them to do. She would take full responsibility, and the wrath of her husband would all fall upon her own lovely, delicate shoulders. Just because she might soon be tossed out into the wintry night didn’t mean they should be.
Yet her concerns were soon forgotten, as Rae finally received a note from her sister. Greta was coming to visit. Today! Rae smiled happily. Greta would understand why she had done what she had done. She might also help her devise a way to tell Fennis without Rae losing her own head in the bargain.
As she walked along the stone corridors, Rae happened to hear voices discussing her husband’s recent absences. In spite of her good intentions, Rae halted and remained motionless, listening to two maids inside the large library.
“The baron will be home tonight. What he will say about this whole horse and decapitated man mess is beyond me,” the first maid said as she dusted.
“I wouldn’t want to be in the baroness’s shoes for all the cuckoo clocks in Wolfach. The baron sets a fair store upon them children. This won’t endear the baroness any to him,” the elder maid responded, shaking her head, her gray bun bobbing. “At this rate, they’ll never consummate the marriage. There’ll be no more little babes in the nursery.”
“Thank heavens for that!” the first maid exclaimed, relief obvious in her voice. “Seven is too many as ’tis.”
A woman after my own heart, Rae thought.
“Still, a man’s got needs. I imagine the baron is tending those needs even as we speak.” The older maid lifted a vase and dusted beneath. “Since he’s not getting those needs tended at home.”
“I wouldn’t mind him tending me,” remarked the first.
Oh, I’ll tend you, Rae promised, a fiery gleam in her bright blue eyes.
“Shush now, silly cow. The baron’s never been one to dip his wick where his ink’s stored, especially not as he loved his first wife as he did. Nor would he do so now and discredit the new lady of the castle. Now, get up those shelves and finish dusting.”
The conversation died, and Rae retraced her footsteps to the portrait gallery. Once again, the ghost of the saintly Fiona hovered above her. Fen would never cheat on his first wife, yet with his second spouse, he spent his nights away from home.
Feeling miserable, Rae had a sudden need to see her lost husband. The thought of Fennis with another woman, so shortly after their wedding, cut deeply into her soul, like a sharp, heated knife; and, angry that he’d left her for wild nights of deranged debauchery, she resolved to curse his portrait, as his face was not available. Within moments she was walking down the long hallway where his particular portrait was hung. Trying to study it in a detached manner, she pointed a finger at him as she let loose her rage.
“I do not share well! I have been thus, even as a child. So beware. If you are dipping your wick in another candle, know you’ll soon be in hot wax!”
The portrait remained silent—just like her mirror, except when Nap was around. But that did not stop Rae; not when she was on a tirade. “How dare you not like me? How dare you leave me here alone? I’m a new bride, and I deserve to be respected and cherished.” Yet as the words left her mouth, a nagging inner voice asked if she really deserved to be cherished.
“Of course I do. What right does he have to commit adultery when he is married to someone as beautiful as I?” But as the words left her lips, she really listened to what she was saying, and was stunned by a sudden realization.
Staring hard at Fen’s portrait, she noted the way the light from the colored glass of the windows shone down, bathing him in light. Even portraiture caught the deep goodness in his eyes. He was an honorable man who loved his children and estates and worked hard to provide for the many dependent on him. He had asked for little from her, just to be a good mother to his children. Guilt suddenly weighed down her words as well as her spirit.
“He doesn’t like me. But can I blame him?” Rae wondered aloud. Then she prayed, “Dear Lord, I’m stuck here until the day I die with a man who doesn’t respect me and children who despise me. What kind of life is this? I miss my family, their love, their gentle chiding, and yes, even those fairy-tale dinners. I don’t want to be alone forever.”
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br /> In that moment the light bathed both her and the portrait, and Rae felt the foundation of her world shattered. Suddenly what her limited world and experiences had taught her seemed foolish. The world did not revolve around her, as Greta had often expressed.
“My beauty truly means little to him. But…that’s all I know how to give: my enchanting looks. Yet he cares not, and he’s unhappy. Alas, I pledged him my troth, to love and care for him through good and bad. I pledged this before God and gave my solemn vow, and I fear I have broken it already.” Glancing heavenward, Rae winced. “I doubt that You take broken vows lightly.”
Drained, Rae sat down upon a low bench and took stock of her life. The process was painful, the discoveries less than flattering. She had been spoiled and cosseted, of-times taught to ignore how others were feeling; her mother and nurse had told her that she was special and deserved special treatment. Although she’d done a few good deeds, those acts were more than cancelled by her thoughtless ways. God had given her many wonderful blessings. Foolishly, she had thought them all her due, never realizing that she should have thought less about how she appeared and more about how she acted.
With brimming tears, Rae glanced at the portrait of her husband. “I shall do better, I promise. I’ll transform. There’s more to me than meets the eye. I know this to be true. I also promise not to play any more tricks on your children. Even if they hate me to my dying day.”
As she made that statement, a creak came from a panel in the wall beside her and out popped Poppy, swiftly followed by her brother Quinn, who was carrying one of the small kittens from last night. Merri was not far behind.
Rae gasped, clutching her hand to her chest. “You scared me!”
“We’re even then,” Quinn replied, an impish grin on his face. “You’re talking to portraits now, huh? Nap said you liked to talk to things better than people, because you admire them more.”
Quinn’s words stung. “I was merely voicing some thoughts aloud.”
“To Papa’s portrait?” Poppy asked. “Talk to him.”
“I would, if he were here,” Rae replied, wrinkling her nose. “And what is that smell?” Looking them over, she noted the source immediately. “Quinn, you are a mess and your stench is offensive. You look more like a stable master’s son than the son of a baron. You remind me of my brothers.”
Quinn looked down at his pants, which were black with encrusted dirt. His hands were not in much better condition, and his boots were covered with the muck of both horse and cow. He shrugged. “There was a dog with a hurt leg.”
“Quinn fixed it,” Poppy informed Rae. “He’s good with aneemals.”
“That was sweet. I’ve always liked animals—even sheep,” Rae said.
“Well, we don’t have any sheep,” Quinn said, his disappointment obvious.
“But we’ve got cows,” Poppy remarked happily.
“I’m sure I’ll find them divine as well,” Rae replied in earnest. These three were really rather cute when they weren’t being obnoxious. “Why are you carrying around that kitten? Is she part of some potty plan of yours to play another trick on me? She looks rather young to be away from her mother.”
“We came to say that we are sorry for playing jests on you,” Poppy answered. Merri nodded, too, though she wore a cross expression.
“What kind of fool would I be if I fell for that old chestnut?” Rae remarked. “Just how silly do you think me?” Yet, their little faces truly looked sincere.
Quinn shook his head. “No, we mean it. Not all of us, of course, just the three of us. When Papa scolded us the other day, he made me think. You’re a stranger here, and we haven’t been very nice to you. Kind of like when Papa brought a hound here who had been beaten. He growled and bit Ernst, and Papa wanted to get rid of him. But I talked him out of it and took care of the dog. It took a while, but finally he grew to trust me.”
“He’s a good hunting dog now. Never bites anything but the foxes,” Merri added.
Quinn looked embarrassed. “Last night you saved me from that horse. It was a brave thing to do. Papa says we must always respect and honor courage. I think you were magnificent.”
A smile blossomed on Rae’s face as affection bloomed in her heart for this freckle-faced boy who tended those weaker than himself. Even though he had more or less compared her to a dog, she felt flattered by his compassion and wisdom. A child of nine had it, and she didn’t. What did that say about her?
“What a grand apology, and what a noble thing to care for those in need,” she remarked. “Your father must be very proud of you, Quinn. You are noble of heart, and that’s a rare thing. And I need to make an apology also. I did mean to play the prank, but I didn’t mean to frighten you all as badly as I did. I hope you can forgive me. I certainly never meant to put either Poppy or Quinn in danger.”
Quinn blushed, shrugging his shoulders. “Here,” he said, holding out the small gray and white kitten. “It’s for you. A wedding gift. Her mother died, and only two of the kittens survived. I’ve got one, and this one I wanted to give to you.”
Rae stared hard at the three children before reaching for the kitten, a slight sheen of tears in her eyes. “Poor baby. I do love cats and dogs.” She cuddled the tiny creature close to her chest. “You all are truly sincere, aren’t you?”
The three faces nodded enthusiastically. “We want to call a truce. We forgive you the prank. It was a grandly cunning plan, worthy of a Schortz. Nap’s just mad he didn’t think of it first.”
Rae hid her smile. “So…no more devious little tricks?”
“Not from us,” Poppy said, shaking her head, her little gold braids swinging. “Will’d you climb a tree now with me?”
“No,” Rae answered. Then, seeing the little girl’s crestfallen expression, she amended her statement: “I’ve decided that I quite like your name. It reminds me of spring flowers and cheery smiles. Regrettably, I don’t climb trees…but I’ll play dress-up with you.”
Poppy had to think this over carefully. “Can I’s dress up yike pirates?” she asked after a moment.
Remembering their past capture of their governess and the baboon tarts, Rae shook her head, thinking that would not be best. “How about a princess or a fairy?” she suggested. Seeing the child’s mulish expression, inspiration struck. “How about a queen or a king?”
The little girl nodded enthusiastically, while her elder sister’s almost permanent frown lifted. “Will you let me be the princess?”
“Yes. We’ll dress you in something pink, I think, to go with your coloring,” Rae replied as she closely studied the girl. Merri was certainly no beauty, with too big a nose and too round a face, but every little girl should feel pretty, and so Rae would find a way to accomplish just that.
Snapping her attention back to Quinn, Rae looked him up and down, trying to hide the mischievousness she was feeling. “You would make a grand knight.”
“I’d rather be a pirate.”
Rae sighed and considered a compromise. “No baboon tarts and no prisoners?”
Quinn thought about it for a moment, then nodded.
“I wants to be one too,” Poppy said.
Rae sighed again. “Fine.”
“I still want to be a princess,” Merri said.
“And so you shall.” Clutching tightly to her chest the sweet little kitten Quinn had given her, Rae let out a peal of happy laughter that filled the hallway. Then she and the Schortzes went to play.
Yes, for the first time in many a long year, Rae felt happy. Three of the children accepted her, even appeared to like her. It was a miracle. And just in time to celebrate, Greta was coming to visit. Rae could hardly wait to see her.
The tiny kitten purred in her arms, and Rae thought about what to name it. Perhaps she’d name it Greta or Faye. That way, even though she was now married, her sisters would always be with her. At least in name. Or, she thought with an odd pang of sadness, she could name it Fennis. Then she’d finally have a Fen in her bed.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
My Life Is No Fairy Tale
Several hours later, Rae hurried downstairs to greet Greta. Joyfully the sisters Grimm embraced, each crying out glad greetings.
Smiling brightly, Greta held her younger sister at arm’s length and studied her thoughtfully. “I wanted to visit sooner, but Aunt Vivian forbade it since you were newlywed. She said the first few days should be spent with your new husband and stepchildren.”
Rae scowled. “She would, the old bat. But why didn’t you write me? I’ve written you almost daily.”
“You did? But you hate to write—the ink stains on your fingers and all.”
“I know. But I needed your advice,” Rae replied.
“I never received one of your letters, and I wrote you twice.” Greta’s expression darkened. “Aunt Vivian! I should have guessed.” She had been eager to speak with her sister about the prince, yet upon seeing Rae’s face, her love life could wait.
Rae frowned. She had needed her sister, and her aunt had been playing spy-master: hiding letters, intercepting communiqués and issuing ultimatums. How she would love to fix Vivian’s goose! “She really is quite monstrous.”
Greta nodded. “You have no idea. It’s not easy living there with you gone. Now I’m her prime candidate for marriage. I’ve been paraded about Wolfach like a fattened hog. She’s worse than our mother!”
Rae snorted elegantly, or as elegantly as a snort could be. “I know. They’re birds of a finicky and forever-complaining feather,” she replied, then hugged her sister tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve much to tell you. So very much.” A worried look crossed her lovely face.
“What’s wrong?”
Biting her lip, Rae confessed, “Almost everything.” Motioning for Greta to take a seat, she managed a smile. She was so glad to have her sister with her, for besides loving her dearly, Greta was the only one, besides her father, who represented security. Though it might be ridiculous to be lonely in a castle filled with seven children and thirty-odd servants, Rae was. Her sister’s presence brought home just how much she had felt like an unwanted interloper.