Free Castle of the Wolf by Sandra Schwab Page A

the butler, who stood stonily next to the sideboard. “Since Herr von Wolfenbach is joining us today, do bring up some of the cold gruel he so enjoys.” With a smug smile, she turned her attention back to von Wolfenbach. “Or do you prefer buttered black bread?” she asked innocently, and watched with satisfaction how his face darkened even more.
    That man of loneliness and mystery,
    Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh;
    Whose name appalls the fiercest of his crew…
    Cissy pursed her lips. But not me. She had always thought Byron’s pirate somewhat overly theatrical anyway. And for somebody called Fenris to strut around like a snarling demon wolf was just as ridiculous as, say, for somebody called Darcy to refuse to dance at an assembly.
    “I was just telling Miss Fussell here”—Mrs. Chisholm patted Cissy’s hand, while the demon wolf chose a seat—“about this most horrid rat which came to my room last night.”
    “A rat?” His dark brows rose. “How…unfortunate. These things sadly happen so often in such old buildings.” He grimaced a little as the butler put down a small bowl of cold gruel in front of him. “I think I need a mocha with that,” Cissy heard him mutter.
    Her eyes narrowed. How peculiar that she had spent two nights in this castle and had not even caught an itty-bitty glimpse of a rat tail. “You must have been very frightened, Mrs. Chisholm,” she said slowly, while keeping her eyes trained on von Wolfenbach. And indeed: when he looked up from his gruel, she thought she could detect a glitter of anticipation in his expression.
    “Frightened?” The widow laughed heartily. “Oh, my sweet child, not at all! When you’re the wife of a merchant and loath to stay at home while your husband travels the world, then you certainly get to see your share of rats!”
    Von Wolfenbach’s face fell.
    “Why, this one took a little longer to kill,” Mrs. Chisholm continued merrily, “but there’s nothing like a pair of good sturdy boots, I tell you!” As happy as a child in a toy shop, she beamed at Cissy, while the butler turned an interesting shade of green.

Chapter 6
    The next morning they woke to icy coldness. The water in the ewer was frozen through and through. Shivering, Cissy fastened her wrap-around stays over her shift, slipped into two petticoats and decided to wear her woolen dress. At first, she thought it was only the fire in her room that had gone out, yet when she arrived in the dining room, she discovered it had also been transformed into an icehouse overnight. Dressed in a thick coat and with a scarf wrapped around his neck, Rambach stood stoically next to the sideboard.
    His bow seemed a little stiffer than normal. “Good morning, gnädiges Fräulein . I am sorry to inform you that we’ve run out of firewood.”
    “What?” Hardly believing what she had just heard, Cissy gaped at him.
    “We have no more wood to light the fires and unfortunately…”—shifting his weight, he cleared his throat—“the fire in the kitchen has gone out, too.”
    “I don’t believe this,” she muttered, and her breath transformed into puffs of white fog. A thick layer of ice flowers bloomed on the windows, and—who knew—by midafternoon there might be icicles hanging from the candelabra!
    Anger exploded inside her. How probable was it that a household the size of Wolfenbach suddenly and unexpectedly, virtually overnight, ran out of firewood?
    Not. At. All.
    Angry heat washed up from her bosom to her face. Cissy gritted her teeth. That devious bastard von Wolfenbach! This was surely just another one of his harebrained schemes to rid himself of her! She took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten before she bestowed a forced smile on the butler. “And since we’re surrounded by forest, has somebody gone out to fetch some more firewood?”
    Rambach blinked like a large owl. With a red nose. “But, gnädiges Fräulein , that wood will be all wet and will need to be