Rapunzelle: an Everland Ever After Tale (7 page)

He exhaled when he realized what he was thinking.

When the horse had slowed enough that he could point her back towards the cluster of stables and barns, Dmitri glanced behind him, enough to discover that Roy, Jr. had peeled away in the opposite direction, and Zelle’s horse had followed behind. His own thoroughbred would make it back to the corral in excellent time, and he could drop her off with her parents and send them home before he got any other crazy ideas.

Doctor Carpenter had no suggestions about the next step in Dmitri’s search. There was nothing more for him to learn here in Everland. He’d failed his father, failed in the mission, unless there was anything left to be learned in New York City. Either way, he’d be leaving Everland soon. Forever.

If only her father had given him some news, some hint, some lead. Something to keep him here. But no, there was no reason for Dmitri to stay.

Nyet
, there was one very good, very compelling reason to stay, and she was sitting on his lap reveling in the freedom of being atop a powerful horse. But it wasn’t enough; as much as he wanted to stay in Everland, to spend time with her, to make her joyful, to compromise her, it would be wrong. He had to go home, to his horses.

To his father’s dead dreams.

He couldn’t spend any more time with her.

“Come walking with me tomorrow?”

Had he imagined her question? He’d been caught up in his own thoughts, convincing himself why he couldn’t court her. But had she just invited
him
out instead? So his “
Chto
?” probably sounded a little confused. “I mean, what?”

“Will you come walking with me tomorrow afternoon? I can see Papa and Mother from here; they’re frowning. They’ll bundle me into the surrey before I even have a chance to retrieve my bonnet, I’ll bet, and I won’t have a chance to talk to you. But I want to!” She took a deep breath, and he tried not to feel the way her sides—the thin cotton and the corset beneath—pressed against his upper arms tantalizingly. “I want to ask you all about horses, and your farm back in Russia, and your search here, and… Oh, everything!” She peeked up at him, her cheeks dimpling slightly. “And I can’t do that, unless you come walking with me. Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll meet you at the inn.”

And looking down at her, there was absolutely nothing Dmitri could say besides, “
Da
. All right.”

Her smile made any confusion worth it, and he knew he’d made the right decision. And after he’d swung her down into her mother’s arms and her father’s stern gaze, and watched them hustle her into the carriage, and
clucked
at the mare to return to the stable, he was glad that she’d asked. Because suddenly, he wanted to talk to her, to spend time with her. To have something to think about besides how perfectly she fit in his arms. To see other examples of how she so joyfully embraced life.

He couldn’t wait.

“What an ordeal!”

“It wasn’t an ordeal, Papa, it was an adventure.”

“Still, I think you should go upstairs and rest for the next few days.”

“What? I’m not a child. I don’t need to rest for a few days. You’re just trying to lock me away again.”

“We worry about you, Zelle. It almost killed your father to see you in that much danger.”

“Mother, I—“

“And I won’t have you around that man again.”

“Roy, Jr.? I don’t particularly want to be around him again either. He’s a braggart.”

“I mean that Russian. I saw the way he looked at you, and he was holding you entirely too close.”

“Dmitri? He saved me! Mother, talk some sense into—“

“You’ll not work us against each other, young lady. I think your father’s right. Upstairs, this instant.”

Zelle had only sighed and managed not to stomp up the stairs. And once she was in her room, she very carefully did
not
slam the door, no matter how much she wanted to. She was going to be eighteen soon. She was a grown woman, and her parents had no right to order her around like this.

Oh the other hand, she
did
live with them. It wasn’t like she had her own home, or even—she sighed again as she pulled off her shoes and threw herself facedown across her bed—a husband and family. She didn’t
want
a husband and family…she just wanted a little freedom. A chance to come and go as she pleased, like Briar did.

Buuuuuttttt… On the other hand, the reason she had no interest in getting married was that she’d never met a man she wanted to marry. Because she hadn’t been allowed to. Even at the weekly church picnics—which she could only attend if one of her parents went—Papa loomed over her, making it difficult to talk to any boys. Max DeVille wasn’t intimidated by her father, but he didn’t count; he teased and charmed and treated her like a little girl as well. For goodness’ sakes; Merrell Gruff had been her ideal, in terms of kissability!

But then she’d met a Russian duke. Prince.
Whatever
. 

And he’d
kissed
her…or she’d kissed him. And
then
she spent time talking to him, and again in his arms. And now… Goodness. Now she just didn’t know what she thought of marriage. The good Lord knew that she didn’t mind spending time with Dmitri; she’d spent every evening thinking about the tall, handsome Russian man.

Zelle groaned and rolled over, pulling her braid out from under her rear end and throwing her forearm across her face.

Now that Dmitri knew that Papa couldn’t help him, he’d surely be going back East. That’s what he’d said to Max. So it wasn’t like she had a chance at a future with him, anyhow. It was just that meeting him had shown her that maybe marriage
was
a viable option when it came to finding ways to get out from under her well-meaning parents’ well-meaning control. Maybe marriage—if it was to the right man—could be an adventure greater than she’d ever imagined?

Maybe that was her answer.

She had to chuckle at herself. A few days ago, she’d been convinced that to kiss Merrell Gruff would be the greatest adventure, and now look at her! She was considering finding a boy to marry.

It was that thought—marriage—that had her pacing the rest of the afternoon. Her mother came upstairs before dinner with a tray, and mentioned that both she and Papa had been called by patients. Mrs. Muffit had finally begun to labor, and Mr. B.G. Foote at the livery needed something for his gout immediately, so they didn’t know how long they’d be gone.

Mother didn’t seem surprised to see Zelle curled up in the window seat with her herb journal and calendar, plotting out next season’s plantings. She was smart enough to know that a strong young lady wasn’t going to languish in bed all day just because she’d been saved from a runaway horse by a brave hero-prince. But Mother did place the tray on the desk, and come over to squeeze beside Zelle. When she put her arms around Zelle’s shoulders, the girl leaned into her embrace.

After a long moment, Mother kissed the back of her head. “I remember when I first realized how fast your hair grew. I couldn’t believe it. You were helping me make biscuits the first time I braided it.” Zelle’s parents had never made any secret of the fact that Mother hadn’t actually given birth to her, but they’d long ago told her that they didn’t want to discuss their pasts. So Papa’s first wife remained a mystery, but Zelle didn’t care. Mother was her mother in every way that counted.

“All I can remember is screaming when you used to plait it.”

A little chuckle. “It certainly was a blessing, once you got old enough to brush your own hair.” She stroked Zelle’s long braid. “And soon it’ll be time to cut it again.” Her mother cut her hair every year on her birthday, the first of August. Chop it off at her shoulders, send the braid off to a wig-maker, and it would be near her rear again by the following year.

But Zelle was realizing that she’d go batty if she had to live here, with their loving, over-protective ways, another year. “I think that next year, I’ll cut it myself.”

Mother seemed to understand. She always did. “So this is my last year cutting my little princess’s hair?” She sighed, and then pulled Zelle closer. The girl didn’t mind, and rested her head against her mother’s shoulder. “I’ve been dreading that day, honeybear, but knew it would come.”

Her mother’s old nickname for her made Zelle smile. “I have to grow up sometime, Mother.”

“I know. We know. Your father and I… We’ve spent so many years worrying about you.” But why did they seem to worry more about her than other parents worried about their children? “The worry, that concern, is such a big part of our lives, that it seems…
odd
to think of you as all grown up.” Mother sighed, and it reminded Zelle of all the childhood evenings she’d spent curled up on her mother’s lap, listening to her heartbeat. “I suppose soon you’ll be thinking about getting married and starting a family like all the other girls your age.”

How to explain that she hadn’t even considered that route as an option, until just a few days ago? Zelle couldn’t and, after being banished to her room like a naughty child, didn’t want to.

Mother kissed her head again. “That’s something that your father and I will have to face. But for now…” She wiggled, and Zelle sat up, and Mother gracefully extracted herself from the window seat. “For now, you’re still our little princess, and we love you very much.”

Zelle sighed, and watched her mother cross the room. “I love you too, Mother.”

The older woman blew a kiss, and then let herself out. And if Zelle hadn’t been listening for it, she would’ve missed the sound of a key very quietly being turned in the lock.

At this point, it wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t even disappointing. It just…was.

Later that night, Zelle sat at her window seat once more. This time, her knees were tucked underneath her, and her hair was pulled over one shoulder. It was golden, and straight as an arrow, and rarely tangled. But for as long as she could remember, she’d been soothed by the evening ritual of unbraiding her plait, carefully brushing the long strands, and dividing it for bed. Tonight, however, she was still…antsy. Full of energy. Thinking about Dmitri.

She’d asked him to go walking tomorrow. She so wanted to show him Everland and Lake Enchantment and all of the things about her home that she loved. She wanted to grab his hand and see if he’d let her hold it; wanted to hear all about his home. Going walking with Dmitri would be an adventure.

But she was stuck here in her room, condemned by loving parents who expected her to rest. She dropped the brush with a sigh, and rested her elbows on the sill of the open window. She could always defy them, sneak out again. She’d done it often enough. But they’d expressly forbidden it this time, by locking the door. And she loved them too much to openly disobey them like that.

The stars were bright tonight. She’d always loved to sit here and stare at them, but they didn’t seem to calm her tonight. Tonight, she wanted to run and jump and yell and maybe kiss a boy again and—

What is that?
Zelle leaned as far out the window as she dared. There, over the distant mountains, was a new star. Or something bright and white and sparkling. Had it been there yesterday? Or last month? She’d sat here often enough brushing her hair that surely she’d remember seeing it.

No, it was a new star. A new star, and somehow she knew that it was here for her, to comfort her. The thick night air didn’t seem quite so cloying anymore, and her pulse didn’t beat quite as strongly in her temples. This was her star, and it was here for a reason.

She closed her eyes tightly, thinking of Dmitri, and when she opened them the star was still there. And so she smiled, and whispered her wish. “I want to be able to go walking with Dmitri tomorrow. That’s it.”

And when she went to sleep—the lace curtains billowing slightly in the gentle breeze that had blown in across the Lake—the star was still there, twinkling down on her.

The next morning, her door was unlocked. But since she didn’t have any place to go, besides downstairs for a glass of milk, it didn’t really matter. Papa was in his office, at the front of the house, and would surely notice if she snuck out. She could always go work in her garden again…maybe, if no other opportunity presented itself by noon, she’d try that, and then just quietly let herself out the back gate. Except, she knew that Mother had locked the back gate, which was her way of telling Zelle she wasn’t to leave without her parents’ knowledge.

It was just so frustrating!

Mid-morning, while she was sketching new plots for next spring’s plantings, a small rock sailed through her window and clattered against the desk. She was smiling when she stooped to pick it up; it was an old sign she recognized. Sure enough, Briar was standing beside the garden wall, behind the house. Zelle leaned out the window, just enough to call out in a quiet voice, “I’m so glad to see you!”

“Are you okay? Max told me what happened.” Briar—who was never fond of subterfuge—pressed her back against the stones and tried to look in all directions at once. Zelle assumed she knew she wasn’t supposed to be back there talking to her friend.

“I’m fine. Truly. Mother and Papa think I should be resting, but we all know that’s just their excuse to keep me safely locked inside.”

“
Safe
, Zelle. Safe is a good thing. A runaway horse isn’t safe.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you siding with them, now?”

“No!” Apparently alarmed by her outburst, Briar peered towards the windows in the lower story. “I mean, you know I love you, but maybe you should just relax for a little bit. Not get into any more adventures. Just until they forget about this one, I mean.”

Zelle didn’t want to have to admit that her friend was right, so she managed a frown. “Did you sneak over here to lecture me from twenty feet away?”

“I came to visit you.” Briar shifted uncomfortably. “Your mother met me at the door and told me that you were feeling poorly. But…” She looked towards the kitchen windows once more. “She seemed like she wasn’t…you know, telling the truth.”

“So you came to check on me? Thank you.” Zelle smiled down at her best friend, forgiving her for her unwelcome logic of a moment before.

“Your mother’s having her own breakfast—I think she just got home.”

“Mrs. Muffit must’ve been laboring all night.”

Briar flushed, as Zelle had known she would; her friend always blushed at the thought of babies and how they were made. “I mean, she’s inside, that’s why I’m whispering. I don’t want her to catch us.”

Or what? What could Mother possibly do to punish them for
talking?
On the other hand, this hanging-out-the-window wasn’t very much fun, either. Zelle sighed. “Fine. I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully. Sunday at the latest.”

Briar looked worried, but blew her a kiss and hurried off anyhow, and Zelle settled back into her work. At noon she went downstairs to fix luncheon for herself and Papa—who was seeing patients in the front parlor he’d converted into an office—but the meal was mostly silent. He looked like he wanted to speak, but every time he tried, he lost his nerve. For her part, she still hadn’t forgiven him for refusing to let her see Dmitri again.