Castle of the Wolf (33 page)

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Authors: Sandra Schwab

Tags: #historical romance, gothic romance

BOOK: Castle of the Wolf
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“He’s come on horseback,” the valet told her as they hurried down the stairs.

“So it seems we’re lucky.” Her thoughts raced. “A bath! He will want a bath first to wash off the dust of the road.”

Johann shook his head. “A bath takes too long to prepare. A sponge bath. But perhaps he will want his riding habit cleaned.”

“Oh yes, yes. He still keeps a change of clothes here at the castle, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed.”

They had almost reached the Great Hall. Cissy’s gaze flickered over the tapestry with the hunting scene, where that Fräulein von Wolfenbach had immortalized her vow of love.
Te amo.

Johann opened the door to the hall. “I will take care of the bath and everything else.” The clothes. To gain the proof of the betrayal.

“And the rest shall be my play,” she agreed. She would see the trap snap shut, would catch the mouse.

The valet’s face was taut with tension, but he nodded.

“Let the game begin,” Cissy whispered as she slipped into the hall. Behind her, the door clicked shut. She was on her own.

A moment of dizziness overcame her. She shook her head.

Let the game begin…

As she went through the hall, a strange calmness filled her—as if the world retreated a step in order to allow her to focus on the moment and what needed to be done. Each sound and each color became brilliantly clear until there was no more room left for emotions, for doubt or apprehension.

Let the game begin.

She stood at the window and waited for Leopold to ride into the courtyard before she stepped onto the gallery outside. With measured steps she walked down the wooden stairs to greet her brother-in-law. She watched him dismount with fluid grace and give the reins of his horse to their young stable boy, who had come up from the stables with him.

Golden curls protruded from under Leopold’s dusty hat. As he turned, she saw his cheeks were ruddy from the wind. “My dear.” He rushed toward her, picked up her hands and bestowed fervent kisses upon her knuckles. “I came as soon as I could.” Pressing her hands against his chest, he searched her face with an air of true worry.

St. George, come to save the damsel in distress,
Cissy thought cynically. Her lips lifted in a polite smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“I …” He licked his lips. “Is Fenris…?”

She lowered her head demurely. “He took a most ghastly fall.” A mere whisper as became a distressed maiden.

“Oh. I…” He cleared his throat, patted her hands. “What a horrid affair.”

“Indeed.” For a moment, the urge to throttle him then and there threatened to overwhelm her.

But it would not do.

She forced herself to keep her voice calm and even as she continued. “Do come inside. I am sure you must wish for some refreshment after your journey.” She led him up the hall, where a disconcerted Rambach was already waiting with a tray and something to drink. He radiated disapproval.

Leopold downed his glass of wine, and Cissy subtly shook her head at the butler. The old man frowned, and she wondered at the wisdom of keeping her plan between Johann and herself.

“Would you like to freshen up before you see Fenris?” she asked.

“Well…” Leopold lowered his glass. “Perhaps I should go and see my brother first.” Again, he cleared his throat. “Given his condition.”

Oh, such solicitude, when the villain had not only called his brother a cripple but also tried to kill him!

Gritting her teeth, Cissy forced herself to smile and proceeded to talk him into retiring to his room for a bit. By the time she had ushered him out of the hall, Rambach’s eyes were as round as saucers, yet luckily the man had kept his mouth shut. Still, Cissy had no doubt he would go straight to the Graf and Gräfin. Or worse, to his master.

Time was running out.

The trap needed to be sprung before her parents-in-law came face-to-face with their youngest son. Before Fenris stumbled upon him.

With barely veiled impatience, Cissy accompanied Leopold to his room. She even tolerated it when he took her hand and put it in the crook of his arm. By the door to his bedchamber, Johann took over and offered his services as valet. Cissy shared a glance with him as Leopold stepped over the threshold. Barely discernible, the valet inclined his head. Releasing her breath, Cissy took a step back.

The door closed.

She bit her lip. The game was under way.

While she waited for Johann to reappear, she started pacing up and down the corridor. She did not dare to leave her post for fear of coming across her in-laws. Had Rambach already told them of Leopold’s arrival? Surely he must have, and at this point she did not want to give any explanations.

She briefly closed her eyes.

Neither did she want to have to deal with an angry demon wolf right now.

She sighed.

If her and Johann’s suspicions turned out to be true, Fenris would be devastated. He had always tried to find excuses for his brother’s behavior. Even when Leopold had thrown the vilest insults at him, he had tried to find excuses. His brother had furthered the undermining of Fenris’s sense of worth, but Fenris had thought it to be his just punishment.

Damn Leopold. Damn the sniveling little bastard.
Scowling fiercely, Cissy stamped up and down the hallway.

The door to Leopold’s room finally opened and Johann emerged, with an armful of clothes and holding a pair of boots. She flew toward him. “And?”

“Shh.” Hastily, he closed the door. With a twist of his hand, he turned the boots around for her inspection.

Hardly daring to breathe, she leaned closer.

“Right boot,” he said tonelessly.

And there it was: the heel had one corner nipped off. This was the boot whose owner had stood in the underbrush and fired a shot to make her husband’s horse shy.

Air escaped Cissy’s lungs in a noisy puff. Yes, she had suspected it, known it, but still, the proof was like a punch in her stomach. How could any man be so greedy as to attempt to kill his own brother?

“We’ve got him,” Johann said quietly. “There’s also a spot that looks like resin on his coat.” He smiled wryly. “It’s a good thing he doesn’t have a manservant to take care of such things.”

“Yes.” She nodded mechanically. “Yes, of course.” Again, her thoughts were racing. God, what would his family say? What would it do to her husband?

At the sound of approaching footsteps, her head snapped around in apprehension and she took a step away from Fenris’s valet. Catching sight of the person coming hesitantly toward them, she frowned. “Marie, what are you doing here?”

The girl blushed. “I…” She gulped. But then she shook the hair out of her face and thrust the pitcher she was carrying forward. “I’m bringing warm water for Master Leopold.”

“Warm water?” Johann’s voice sharpened. “Nobody sent for more water.”

Marie looked from one of them to the other. Her tongue snaked out to lick her lips. “Cook told me to bring it.”

“Did she? Well, I can assure you that Master Leopold has enough warm water already. You can bring it back downstairs.”

“Oh no!” Desperation rang in the maid’s voice. “I…” But under Johann’s stern gaze, her voice trailed away. The muscles in her throat worked as she swallowed. “But…but… Cook… She will be so angry when I come downstairs with the pitcher again. She will think I’m tardy and…well…” She turned to Cissy. “Oh,
gnädige Frau
,” she wailed, “she will tell Frau Häberle, who will surely fire me.”

Cissy stared at her. “Because you didn’t bring a pitcher of water to this room?” she said very slowly. The maid seemed awfully determined to get into that room. “But she cannot fire you; you are in my employ. There’s no need for you to bring—” A memory popped into her mind, brilliantly clear.

Cruelly clear.

The last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.

“This is not about delivering a pitcher of water. Is it, Marie?”

The girl’s eyes widened in alarm as her mistress took a step toward her. “W-what?” She backed away, but Cissy followed relentlessly.

“This is about getting to Leopold von Wolfenbach.”

Yes, Cissy recalled Marie stepping up to Leopold in the flickering light of the Easter fire. Touching his arm with that strange kind of familiarity, though being shrugged off.

“What has he told you, Marie? What kind of lies has he fed you?”

White as a sheet, the girl continued to stumble backward. “I…I have no idea what you are t-talking about.”

“No?” Cissy raised her brows and gave a thin smile. “Well, then, let’s find out.” And with that she grabbed the maid’s arm. She didn’t care that Marie flinched, or that she flailed her arms and the pitcher crashed onto the floor. Mercilessly, she dragged the girl away.


Gnädige Frau!
” Johann rushed after her.

“We’re going to the kitchen,” Cissy informed him grimly. “To hear what Cook has to say.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Marie sobbed. “Oh help! Help!”

Cissy tightened her grip on the girl’s arm as she marched her down the stairs. “You can scream as much as you want, my dear, but nobody will hear you. That’s the beauty of these old castles—the walls are quite thick.”

“Johann.” Red blotches appeared on Marie’s face, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Help me, Johann. She is mad.
Mad!
” The girl gave a few heartbreaking whimpers.

Cissy gritted her teeth. “On the contrary,” she growled. “I’ve never been more lucid in my life.”


Gnädige Frau
…” Worry laced the valet’s voice. He hastened after her.

“Why don’t you help me, Johann?” Marie screamed. “She’s mad!”

“Stop making such a noise,” Cissy hissed. “Johann, you go and take care of my brother-in-law. He’ll want help with his dressing.” She pushed Marie down the narrow staircase to the servants’ quarters. “Go! You too, Johann.”

“As you wish.” The valet threw her a last worried glance before disappearing upstairs again.

Barely reining in her anger, Cissy strode downstairs after her maid. She opened the kitchen door and, grabbing Marie’s arm once more, propelled her into the cook’s realm.

The three senior servants were sitting around a small table, and they scrambled to their feet when their mistress suddenly appeared. “
Gnädige Frau!
” Astonishment and something very much like guilt registered on their faces, especially Rambach’s.

They’ve probably been talking about their mistress, who welcomed the master’s awful brother to the castle. Ha! If only they knew!

“Now, Marie,” Cissy said grimly, “let us ask Cook whether she has sent you upstairs with a pitcher of water.”

Beside her, Marie sniffled pitifully.

Her eyes the size of saucers, the cook looked from one woman to the other. “With a pitcher of water? Whatever for,
gnädige Frau
?”

The sniffling halted. The breath caught in Marie’s throat, became a hiccup. But then she sobbed even louder than before. “Oh, you m-must help me! Herr Rambach! Oh p-please! She’s…she’s a m-madwoman!” She made as if to take a step forward, yet Cissy held her fast.

“A madwoman?” With that, Cissy’s control finally snapped. Two days ago her husband had almost died in the mud of a country lane, and this girl dared to call her a madwoman? Cold fury descended. With a snarl, she shoved Marie against the wall, not caring about the maid’s shrieks or the other servants’ scandalized gasps. She pressed Marie’s shoulders against the cold stone and pierced her with her gaze. “A madwoman? Let’s talk about why you brought this pitcher of water upstairs.”

“I w-was sent to bring w-warm water f-for M-master Leopold,” her maid sobbed.

“Try again. Cook already said she didn’t send you. Frau Häberle, did
you
send Marie upstairs with warm water?”

“No,
gnädige Frau
,” came the weak reply.

Her wide eyes swimming in tears, Marie stared at her mistress.

Cissy didn’t once avert her gaze, and she continued asking: “Rambach, did you send Marie upstairs?”

The old man cleared his throat. “No,
gnädige Frau
.”

Cissy lifted her brows. “Who sent you then, Marie?”

The girl’s eyes widened even further. Fear flickered in their depths. “I…”

“Didn’t you come upstairs for some altogether different reason? Didn’t you want to go and talk to Leopold von Wolfenbach?”

“No! No!” Her voice rising to a hysterical pitch, Marie shook her head wildly. “No!”

Cissy slapped her hands flat against the stone on both sides of Marie’s head. “Liar! Didn’t you come to see him?
Didn’t you?

Shaking her head, Marie hid her face in her hands and cried.

“What lies did he tell you, Marie? What lies? What did he promise you?”

“N-nothing…”

“So you did it all for nothing? For what kind of fool do you take me? What, Marie,
what
?” Again Cissy slapped her hands against the stone, making the girl flinch. “Answer me!”


Gnädige Frau
…” The butler put a hand on her shoulder, but Cissy shook him off.

“Not now, Rambach.—Marie!”

Her maid lifted her blotched, tear-stained face. “I did nothing wrong!” she screamed. “After what your husband did, Master Leopold should become the rightful heir!”

“Oh really?” Cissy took a step back.

“Marie, how can you say such a thing?” the housekeeper said, her voice trembling.

Marie wiped her hand across her wet cheeks. “Because it’s true,” she spat, and her face twisted into a mask of hate. “He ruined the whole family! He had no right to come back afterwards! It should have all been Leopold’s!”

The three older servants gasped in unison.


Leopold’s?
” Cissy echoed, her voice strangely calm, even though icy fury burned like acid through her body. “Now, isn’t this interesting?”

Marie’s eyes flickered from person to person, her chest heaving with uneven breaths. Cissy watched how the blood drained from her face as the girl realized she had just betrayed herself. Her mouth opened and closed, yet no sound emerged.

As if in a dream, Cissy felt cold rage overtake her. She turned and spotted the big knife lying on Cook’s kitchen table. Very slowly, she reached out. Her fingers closed around the handle, so cool against her hot skin. And the next moment the razor sharp edge rested against the vulnerable flesh of Marie’s throat. The maid lost all remaining color, turned ashen, her eyes bulging.

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