“I am,” she replied. “I didn’t even know that you played.”
“Why else would I have such a thing?”
“For the same reason you have a library,” she retorted.
He was about to respond, no doubt in some conceited manner, but he opened his eyes. He caught sight of her and slowly closed his mouth, but his experienced hands never faltered as they continued to flow across the keys. He studied her, examined her, racking his eyes up and down her form several times before looking back at his piano. She held up well against his scrutinizing gaze, although her insides were squirming. Ellena waited for him to respond, but when he didn’t she spoke first.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play. Maybe sometime you could teach me?”
“Teaching you to play the piano is like trying to teach a dog to read. It’s futile and pointless. You lack the capacity to learn such an elegant art.”
Her anger soared once again, but she forced it down. “You do play wonderfully,” she complimented. Flattery was the best way to win him to her side.
“Of course I play wonderfully. I was bred to be superior in all things, remember? This is no exception.”
“Do you mind if I stay and listen?”
“I see no reason why not, but I doubt you’ll fully be able to appreciate my talent.”
She gave him a look that would burn holes through stone, but he did not appear to notice. This was going to be much harder than she thought.
Gregor came for them shortly after, announcing that dinner was prepared. He helped Ellena from her seat in the far corner.
“You look very lovely, mademoiselle.”
“False flattery benefits no one,” Monsieur Wolfe remarked as he stood from the piano.
“I falsely flattery no one, my lord. Even you have to admit how exquisite she looks.”
“I will admit her laughable attempt at trying to seduce me is quite entertaining.”
He left and Ellena scurried after him. “Trying to seduce you? Don’t flatter yourself,” she angrily laughed. They turned the corner and made their way to the dining hall.
The table was already set as they took their places. “If your purpose for this charade was not to gain my attention than what is it?”
“Why did you provide me dresses if you did not intend for me to wear them?” she fiercely replied.
“I did no such thing.”
“Stop toying with me,” Ellena commanded as Gregor served them.
“My dear, I am always toying with you, but I am sad to say this time I speak the truth.”
“You didn’t provide all those clothes? Then who did?”
“If I may be so bold,” Gregor interrupted. “I supplied them.”
Ellena could only sit with her mouth agape. What an utter fool she must have seemed! Monsieur Wolfe vainly snickered as he picked up his glass of water.
“I did not mean to cause a misunderstanding,” the old man was very troubled
“Oh no, Gregor, it’s all right. I love the dresses so don’t be upset.”
Her honest statement soothed him and he set back to work. Ellena’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to devise a plan to recover the situation. Clam soup was their first course, a delicious chowder that made her taste buds sing, but she couldn’t fully enjoy it as she racked her brain for an idea to once again turn the tide her way.
“Too mortified to speak anymore?” Lord Wolfe asked.
“You are well educated, aren’t you?”
“Indeed,” he took a bite of his delicately prepared fish. “I have been well taught on every subject. I believe I already told you.”
“Does that include your lineage?”
“Such an unusual question coming from you. May I ask why you are curious?” He was watching her with an unreadable expression as he reclined back against his chair.
“Just testing your superior knowledge. I bet I know something about your ancestry that you do not even know.” Ellena knew he would never allow her to challenge him in such a manner.
“Pray, do tell.”
“It’s about a certain prince and a red hood.”
His eyes flashed with an emotion that Ellena could not quite recognize. Curiosity? Surprise? Or was it something else?
“An interesting story,” he replied.
“You know of it?”
“Oui, it is a story I know well, a foolish, naïve prince falling love with a beautiful woman. His innocent notions were quickly dashed when she was so very easily stolen by another.”
“Of course you would think he was foolish,” Ellena replied. “But I do not agree with you.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” he grinned. “I did not care enough to ask before, but now that you have brought the subject up, where did you get that red hood?”
“I came across a peasant woman my first day in the village and she accidently left it behind with me. I’ve been trying to find her and return it. That’s what I was doing in the forest the first day we met.”
“I see.”
“What of your hood?” she asked. “How did you come across it?”
“What concern is that to you?”
“I’ve just never seen one like it,” she said, taking a bite of bread.
“I have always owned it,” he silkily replied. “I commissioned a famous tailor in Italy to make it for me and, as we both know, he could not refuse.”
Maybe he wasn’t related to the prince in the story after all, Ellena thought.
“You will join me for a stroll in the gardens after dinner, no?”
“After dinner?” Ellena repeated.
“Gregor, go and fetch our coats.”
The old butler bowed and then left.
“I did not accept your invitation,” Ellena fiercely said.
“I know you won’t refuse,” he said. “Your curiosity won’t allow it.”
She could not deny it. His sudden offer was all too tempting to pass. The man was up to something and Ellena would find out what sorted plan he was devising. Gregor returned with their red hoods thrown over his left arm. In his right hand he held a pair of green, ladies shoes. He helped Lord Wolfe into his cape and then turned his attention toward Ellena.
“For you, my lady.”
He kneeled to take her foot, removing the white slipper. “Don’t burden yourself,” Ellena tried to fight the shoe from his grip, but he was surprisingly strong for an older gentleman.
“Please, don’t deny this old man the pleasure of waiting on a beautiful woman,” he smiled.
“Very well,” she whispered. He slipped on the shoes.
“Parfait!” he cried. “I knew they would fit.”
Ellena squished her toes against the soft fabric as Gregor helped her with her hood. “They are quite lovely,” she whispered, staring down her feet.
“I am ready,” Lord Wolfe loudly interrupted and Ellena grudgingly stalked over to him. He led the way as they walked towards the gardens.
He did not speak as they walked through the halls and it was an unnerving feeling. It was not like him to be so quiet. They passed the familiar tapers and torches, their red capes almost looking yellow as the candlelight hit them and as Ellena looked closer, she could see the golden stitches laced within the fabric.
She was so entranced by the twinkling stitches of his cape that when he suddenly came to a halt, Ellena collided into him.
“Stop getting so distracted,” he berated, ordering her to open the door.
“Do not scold me like a child,” Ellena said. “If you want to go in so badly, you open the door.”
“I’ll simply call for Gregor.” He was rearing up to bellow down the hall.
“Don’t!”
She stomped past him, mumbling obscenities that would make a grown man blush and pushed. Lord Wolfe’s smile only grew bigger.
The gardens were bathed in a soft glow, the colored leaves almost appearing silver from the moonlight. She looked up, clearly seeing the bright stars through the glass ceilin
g and she reached out her hand, pretending to hold them between her fingers.
“You should not reach for things that you cannot have,” Lord Wolfe suddenly said.
Ellena turned to look at him. She wasn’t sure if it was the dark shadows or silent eeriness, but just for that split second, he seemed horribly sad. She also wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but he also seemed to look slightly different. She couldn’t pin point the change, it was more like a subtle feeling. The air about him was less intense. Lanterns were glowing all along the pathway, making sure to light their way as the slowly walked.
“Are tulips your favorite flower?” Ellena asked.
“No,” he answered.
“Then why do you have so many?”
“It is the only flower that can withstand these harsh temperatures. Most others simply die.”
There it was again, that nagging feeling that something about him had changed. His eyes or his mouth? The way he spoke? Whatever it was, Ellena could not find it. Her eyes were locked into a fierce stare when he stopped to look at her.
“About that prince and the red cape, had you heard that story before?” he asked.
“It seems like a very interesting take on the classic Little Red Riding Hood.”
“I am not familiar with that tale. Why did you become so curious about this prince?”
“Well, I guess because the story just suddenly ends. I never learned what happened to the prince. Did he win her back? Did he find someone else? I have to know.”
“What difference does it make to you?”
They came to a patch of wild blueberries and began to circle the path around.
“Do you know the ending? Is it said? If it is sad, do not tell me. I will simply rewrite his story so that it ends happily.”
“Would you? How would you plan it?”
“Well,” Ellena said. “He would certainly find another to love, a lady more faithful and kind than the horrid woman who ran off. He would live happily ever after, but I would make sure his ex-lover was absolutely miserable, married to a selfish man who made her birth fifteen babies and beat his clothes!” Ellena laughed as Lord Wolfe amusingly smirked.
“Do you think that ill of the other prince? Maybe it was not his fault that the woman came to him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps that woman was so easily stolen because that hapless prince failed at guarding what was his?”
Ellena paused as she considered his comment. “I guess we’ll never know,” she finally whispered. “But I don’t believe it was the kind prince’s fault. I don’t think she really loved him. She wasn’t taken, she left and there was probably nothing he could have done to make her stay.”
She was surprised to find their conversation quite pleasurable. For the first time since meeting him, she found herself thoroughly enjoying his company. He was still his witty, demanding self, but now he was laced with an air of gentleness. Ellena almost couldn’t believe it herself. The man was almost charming.
“You really wish to know more about the story?” Lord Wolfe asked. He had led her to the center of the gardens were a beautiful marble fountain lay full of water and covered in ivy.
“I do.”
“Then we shall make a deal,” he victoriously bellowed in a way that made Ellena laugh. “For each night that you stay here, I will reveal to you more of that story.”
Ellena thought for a moment. Surely it would not take too much time. These kinds of fairy tales were never horribly long and in light of his new, more tolerable demeanor, she agreed.
Gregor was waiting for them when they returned to the garden’s main door. “I hope your walk went well.” He bowed as he held the candle in his hand higher.
“It actually did,” Ellena said. Gregor held the door open as they passed inside. It was much warmer here.
“I have left some hot tea in both of your quarters,” Gregor announced as he helped Lord Wolfe with his hood.
“Bonne nuit,” Ellena said, bidding them both farewell and goodnight as she left in a rush. The way a certain man was looking at her made her feel uncomfortable and it was not necessarily a bad feeling either. She was almost running as her footsteps went at a less than leisurely pace. Her own common sense was betraying her. The young woman told herself she would never, in any way, be in any measure attracted to that man, but he had cheated, horribly cheated by being so amiable and delightful that night. The only comfort she had was surely it was an accident. Tomorrow he would be back to his old ruthless self, she hoped. If he was not, Ellena feared the worst.
The tea was steaming on a nearby table when she finally returned to her sleeping chambers. Ellena, finding a delicate white night gown in one of the many drawers, changed and made her way to bed, snuggling deep into the blankets. One lone candle lit the room as she slowly sipped from her cup.
The pictures were gazing back at her as Ellena sent them a penetrating glare. The rational part of her brain was bombarding her with several logical explanations of why the pictures seemed to move. Exhaustion? Stress? Was it possible that she had been dreaming, but then another part of her was not so sure. The illogical, unsound part of her brain (every writer has one) kept pestering her that perhaps it was something more. It was nothing but a nagging doubt, but sometimes that’s all it takes to dash all rational thinking aside.
She fell asleep in the soft glow of the flickering flame, completely unaware that black shadows were moving across the room, barely out of reach of the burning light. The candle blew out and tender hands tucked her firmly into the thick covers as the teacup disappeared.
Chapter Eight
Lilac was what finally woke Ellena from a very peaceful night’s sleep. The scent was everywhere. It was still early morning, the sunrise’s orange glow streaming through the stained glass. She stretched, savoring the irresistible warmth that enveloped her. It was almost a shame to move, she mused snuggling deeper into her pillow. A light tickle in her throat forced her up and she coughed, hoping to qualm the aggravating itch.
A brilliant deep blue dress had been neatly placed across one of the chairs by the fireplace, and her eyes flew to the door to see it still locked. It was startling to think that someone was sneaking into her room, and she had become more and more convinced that it was not Gregor. Maybe there was a secret passage? But then why would someone sneak into her room at night just to lay out her clothing?
Eyes were watching her, dozens of them and that’s when Ellena noticed it, a slight change in one of the portraits. It was a pair of old women sitting around a square wooden table in a small library. Ellena could tell from all the book shelves, only something was different. Ellena was certain, as certain was she was that the sun had risen, that atop of the tiny table in the picture had sat a vase of blue daisies, only now it was a vase of vibrant red tulips.
She had to find Gregor. He would be able to answer her questions. Her blue dress whipped around her feet where she had placed a pair of dazzling silver shoes. Gregor was in the hallway lighting the candles.
“Morning, you are up early.”
“Gregor, please answer me honestly,” she said.
He stepped down from the stool he had been standing on to light the candles.
“The paintings—” she began but just at that moment Lord Wolfe appeared from around the corner.
“I see you are awake. I was going to ask if you’d like a tour of my estate before breakfast,” he said. “Come.”
Before she could reply, he was already leading her away and Gregor had once again avoided her question by scurrying off out of sight. Now, she was sure that something was amiss.
She felt another cough bubbling up her throat, but she forced it down as he led her upstairs, along a hall that seemed to widen as they went deeper into the bowels of the mansion. To her left giant floor to ceiling windows appeared, towering over them as they walked and to her right was a polished wooden banister that looked out over another darkened corridor.
Th
e doors at the end of the hall were a striking golden color, shining brightly from the light. Lord Wolfe grasped the elaborate knob and flung it open to reveal a grand ball room. The stage for the musicians was to her left, surrounded by a red curtain. Another chandelier floated above them, twice the size of the one Ellena had seen before as windows with deep green drapes looked out across the fields.
“I have danced in this ballroom with many, many beautiful ladies,” Lord Wolfe grinned. It was all Ellena could do to keep from rolling her eyes. Yep, he was definitely back to his old self.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, extending his hand.
“Yes?” She glanced at his open palm. “Forget it, I’m not dancing with you. Besides, didn’t you say you only dance with beautiful women?”
“What is that well known peasant saying? Ah, yes! Beggars can’t be choosers?”
The next thing Ellena knew, she was twirling as Lord Wolfe grabbed her hand began to waltz. She, at first, tried to pry away but found he would not allow it. He hold was firm, but gentle and she eventually gave in allowing him to lead her in the age old dance.
Her feet betrayed her several times, tripping and colliding into each other as she tried to keep up with unfamiliar steps and she knew her partner would be all too happy to critique her less than spotless performance. She felt him laugh a few times, but she would not dare look into his face. The deep vibrations pulsing through his chest let her know he was chuckling.
Their dance came to an end and he let her go, but not before kissing her hand. “Now I have danced with many, many beautiful ladies and one ugly woman.”
Her temper was about to burn again when she caught the twinkle in his eyes. He was teasing her. Ellena’s breath hitched in her throat when she, for a brief moment, found his eyes to be a deep chestnut in the bright sunlight, but it must have been her imagination.
“I guess then all the other ugly women will forever envy me since I am the only one of our kind who has had the privilege of being your unwilling dance partner.”
“Ah, but you did want to dance with me.”
“Oh really?” Ellena scoffed.
“You are not the kind of woman who is forced to doing anything she does not wish. You did want to dance with me. You just do not wish to admit it.”
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