The Cursed Bride Read online

  Aldine didn't know what to make of this news. In a way, she felt sorry for Heinrich for the loss he had endured, but she was also here because of this loss. A negotiated bride he had barely known. Was that not the same for the other two? Had one of them been someone he'd known for a long time, one he'd been in love with? Elke had said it was hurtful to talk about it.

  Absently, she stroked her fingers across her lips, unsure how to feel about this new information, or even if she was better off knowing this. She could have chosen not to ask. Heinrich had chosen not to tell her, but Wolfgang had obviously overheard the question and answered it in his stead.

  Suddenly this marriage seemed much more complicated. There were other people in it—ghosts.

  Chapter 7

  "THERE YOU ARE," Heinrich said as Aldine rejoined them in the salon. "Elke is not down yet. Perhaps we should wait for her."

  Wilhelmina was sitting in one of the chairs, reading, while Ludwig lay reposed on a sofa, looking bored. Wolfgang, for being in here somewhere, was absent. Perhaps he had gone out the kitchen door at the back.

  "After she can play a little music for us. She plays so beautifully."

  In some ways, Aldine should feel inadequate as a bride for not being able to play the piano well, but she was too distracted by the news she had just learned.

  Forgoing the cards table, Heinrich sat down in another chair and accepted a glass of wine from Weber.

  "A recuperative?" he asked her as she stood there, not quite sure what to do with herself. All week she had been praying for Sunday to come around, but now that it was here, she didn't know what to do, almost wishing she was alone.

  Two brides lost, she repeated to herself. That was unfortunate. Perhaps that explained why he came all the way to Manheim to find a wife. If people around here really were superstitious, they wouldn't promise their daughters to him. The kind of bride a man in his position would seek, though, would likely not be of the superstitious sort.

  Heinrich wasn't looking at her, instead looking out the window. His handsome face had belonged to other women—for however brief a time. It appeared not to be long if Wolfgang was to be believed. How could he say something like that and simply walk off? More worrying was perhaps how unforthcoming Heinrich had been on the issue. Perhaps he saw it as none of her business. In a way, it was none of her business as these things had all occurred before their marriage, but it still felt like something she should know.

  Wilhelmina looked up with a smile. Was she disappointed with the caliber of the latest bride, the third choice? "Sit down, girl. No point standing around like a shadow."

  "Of course," Aldine said, blushing as she took the nearest seat. Sitting was not what she wanted to do, so she rose again. "I might pick some flowers. It's such a nice day. I could use some subjects to draw."

  No one argued as she walked out of the room and she paused by the doorway, feeling a sense of panic. What if she never settled with her husband? What if she was never comfortable here?

  Questions were bouncing around her head. Had he been in love with one of these women? Did he mourn them? Where did that place her?

  Fresh air seemed to calm her slightly and she walked over to the edge of the lawn where wildflowers grew just at the start of the forest. Crouching down, she picked a few flowers. They were perhaps not of any sort that had scent, but she could use them as models for her drawing. She'd always liked drawing flowers.

  A small crack drew her attention up and into the dark forest. Nothing was seen, but something had cracked in there, followed by a thick silence until the wind rustled leaves above her.

  Moss people—what a silly notion. Although it wasn't a stretch to imagine creatures in a forest, was it? Of course she didn't believe such things, but a forest was alive with creatures large and small. The quiet eeriness of it almost convinced you that all sorts of things could live in a forest. It was almost as if you looked long enough, something would show itself.

  Picking the flowers she wanted, she hurriedly returned to the house, preferring the distraction of her drawing book to the tingling weariness she felt when she stared into the dark forest-scape. Quickly retrieving her drawing case, she picked out the lead pencil she wanted. Once finished, she could water color it.

  It had actually been a while since she'd drawn like this, but right now, she felt like she needed something familiar to distract her from the thoughts circling around her head endlessly.

  *

  After a somber afternoon, where Aldine immersed herself in her drawing as much as possible, it came time to rest before supper, when she retreated to her own room and savored the chance to spend time in her own company.

  The Heinrich she had known in Italy seemed more and more distant to her. She felt no closer to him than she did any of the other people in the house, and that was troublesome to her. In some important way, he'd withdrawn from her.

  Nights were still spent in his bed, but that intimacy had a purpose, one that Wilhelmina seemed intent on reminding her of regularly.

  Truthfully, she didn't feel like dressing that evening and wondered if she could say she was unwell, but that might have Wilhelmina up here, worrying about the health of their investment. If she could only go home. It was her most fervent wish right at that moment, but she couldn't. She could never go home again. She belonged to the Graven family now, and only an act of the most depraved abuse would justify her returning to her family—and that included from her parents’ perspective.

  By no stretch of the imagination was Heinrich abusing her. He was very cordial and considerate, constantly asking if she was cold or if she needed anything. His manners could not be faulted.

  A small knock on the door signified that Anna was there to smooth and re-pin her hair. Aldine smiled weakly as the young girl walked in. She seemed a nice girl, shy. The only person Aldine spoke to who wasn't part of the family, not that Anna appeared all that willing to speak.

  The girl quietly moved into the room and closed the door, before carefully unpinning Aldine's hair. "I heard today of moss people," Aldine said. "Such superstitions are not common where I am from."

  "I wouldn't think there was much moss in cities."

  "No, I suppose not," Aldine said with an amused smile. "Such beliefs are common here?"

  "Some hold to the old ways, even in this age," she said.

  "You believe in such things?"

  Anna didn't answer for a while. "The forest has a life of its own, and its own secrets to keep. You don't live here without discovering that. It's its own being."

  "Are you scared of it?" Because the truth was that Aldine was. There was something very uncomfortable about the alien darkness of its nooks and crannies, hidden from the sun and everyone else.

  "No need to be scared of a forest," Anna said as if it was a ridiculous question. "But things pray on people's minds around here, always have. In the olden days, they feared witches used the spirits of the forest to do their bidding."

  Aldine didn't quite know how to accept the statement—whether to be astounded more at there being witches or the forest spirits that did their bidding.

  "Not so much, these days," Anna said. "But I suppose you are right that it is good to be wary of the forest. It holds many dangers, and things can happen and you won't be found for months. People have been known to disappear."

  "Were you here when the count was married before?"

  "Before my time," Anna said. "I've only been here a few months."

  "Oh, I see."

  "But you know about them?"

  Anna looked increasingly uncomfortable, probably picking up that she was being interrogated. "Best you speak to the master about them."

  It wasn't the answer Aldine had wished for. "Yes, of course," she said, turning her gaze back to herself. Witches and spirits. This part of the world certainly had an interesting history. At times, it seemed the modern world took a long time to reach here, being hidden away as everything was. It was a place that kept secrets, it seemed
—both this house and the forest that surrounded it.

  "Thank you," Aldine said when Anna was finished and slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d come in. It was growing dark outside, the shadows merging together as one, pale blue light silhouetting the tops of the trees. The sun had already gone down, this was just the last light of the day.

  Reaching for a match, Aldine lit the candle that stood on her dressing table. There were proper lamps, but she was leaving in a few moments to go downstairs for supper. Perhaps she was extending this moment by herself a little longer than she should. It was time to learn what a Sunday supper was like in this house. She could always hope it was the calm, languid affair it was back home, but she felt anything but languid in this family—tense was perhaps the right word, but maybe every bride felt that way when they were settling into their husband's family. It was simply a process to go through, like every married woman before—even Wilhelmina. Although it was difficult to think Wilhelmina was ever uncomfortable and foreign in this house. The house and the family seemed synonymous with her.

  Chapter 8

  "YOU HAVE BEEN SO QUIET," Elke said as they sat down for afternoon tea the following day. "I made us some mint tea. I’ve been having problems with my digestion lately."

  "Thank you," Aldine said, accepting the cup. It smelled fresh, but was sweet with sugar.

  "I hope everything is alright," Elke continued after taking a sip of her teacup.

  "Yes, of course." It wasn't perhaps completely true. These two previous brides were on Aldine’s mind. She'd tried to bring it up again with Heinrich the previous night, but he had quickly shut down the conversation, making it clear that he didn't want to talk about it. "I suppose I can't help but be curious about what happened to Josefina."

  Elke stared at her for a moment. "She grew ill and died," she finally said. "It was very tragic. Barely married. Please don't bring it up. There is nothing to be gained. Heinrich has suffered the most atrocious ill luck."

  Placing her cup down, Elke rose and strode across the room, signifying she would not speak more about it further, but it didn't satisfy the questions in Aldine’s mind. Where was she from? Where were her things? How long had they been married? Had he loved her?

  There certainly wasn't an opening to ask about the other bride, Luise.

  Wilhelmina entered the salon with a vase of flowers. "The marigolds are blooming. Aren't they beautiful?"

  So far, Aldine hadn't seen marigolds blooming anywhere. It didn't seem to be by the house.

  With Wilhelmina's attention on her, Aldine smiled tightly. "Yes," she said.

  "You really should learn how to arrange flowers," the older woman said.

  "I have sufficient knowledge for such things," Aldine replied carefully, not wanting to sound confrontational, but she was the daughter of an architect and arranging flowers was a way she could express those principles. In fact, she'd created much more elaborate flower displays than the one Wilhelmina had just carried in, but then she'd had access to every type of flower the Manheim flower market had. "I can take over some of those duties, if you wish."

  Even as Aldine hadn't intended on it being a challenge, the woman took it that way. The tightness of her mouth showed it. Aldine had only been informing her that she had some capabilities related to the topic. Apparently she’d said something wrong. It was hard to know how to deal with this woman, what role she was supposed to play in the house. Had Heinrich's other brides been the same, or was she a disappointment of some kind? It could be that Wilhelmina mourned one of the previous brides as well. Trying to smile, Aldine managed to feel some sympathy to her.

  When she'd come here, she hadn't realized this was a house in mourning. Past the mourning period, but that didn't mean much. Mourning didn't happen to the schedules society dictated.

  Taking another sip of her mint tea, Aldine withdrew from the interaction. She simply didn't know where she stood with these women—even her husband when it came down to it. Everything had shifted so fiercely since the day she'd arrived.

  "I might go for a walk. Are there still marigolds blooming?"

  "Yes, they are over by the farmhouse across the eastern field. Weber retrieves them if you ask him. There are dahlias and pansies too."

  "Some exercise will do me good." Rising, Aldine went outside. It was still warm enough to walk without a cloak or coat, at least until the late afternoon, or unless the weather changed. The warm hours weren't long in duration, but they were lovely while they lasted.

  Going outside, she felt relief from the expectations on her and the fact that she was in some ways failing to meet them, but couldn't exactly pinpoint how. Heinrich was off somewhere. Although titled, he was not a man of leisure. His estate was a going concern and needed to be managed.

  The eastern field was through a stretch of forest with a well-established path, covering her with its humid darkness before emerging in a sunny field. The field crop, whatever it was, was green and swaying in the breeze. It was a while from harvest, she guessed as she walked around the edge of the field to the farmhouse.

  As she got closer, she could see neat rows of flowers being grown specifically for the Graven household. Sprinkles of color dotted across the rows, and Aldine smiled seeing them. She could come here to draw, sit here in the sun and draw real, live flowers. They had a very different vibrancy to them than they did when cut and dying. Today, she hadn't even considered bringing her pencils and watercolors.

  Turning, she saw the wind dance across the field. It really was beautiful in the way only nature could manage. A simple majesty.

  But then dark thoughts broke into her mind again, capturing her as if to drag her down into doubt and uncertainty. She had been better off not knowing about the other wives. Perhaps Heinrich had been right in not telling her. This information had brought nothing but darkness and doubt into her thoughts.

  A distant noise broke into the peaceful scene before her, and a horse appeared. Wolfgang. She was getting better at telling them apart. He was cantering along the edge of the field on the far side, not seeing her or giving indication that he saw her. His horse veered into the path returning to the house, or rather his cottage.

  Running her hand across her mouth, she considered him for a moment. He seemed to be the only one telling her about these brides, although she wasn't entirely sure of his motive for doing so. It wasn't as if he held any loyalty to her, but perhaps he simply felt she should know.

  Hurrying around the field, she followed him back to the house. He might be long gone by the time she got there, being substantially slower on foot than he was on horseback, but she found him in the stable, pouring oats into his horse's trough. Taking care of his horse was something he did personally, it seemed.

  Looking up as she entered the stable, he stared at her blankly. There was never a welcoming smile with him, and she wouldn't hazard a guess if he remotely liked her. Not that they knew each other, but he did seem the most willing to talk. That could be a guess, just because he had mentioned the brides to her in the first place.

  The truth was that she needed to know. Half knowing made everything much worse. Now that she knew of them, she needed to know the whole truth, while everyone else was happy never to mention it. But they all knew what had happened—she'd only had a few hints, and it was preying on her mind.

  "I understand Josefina died of sickness," she said.

  Wolfgang didn't answer and picked up a pail of water and placed it inside the stall. "You should talk to your husband."

  "He doesn't discuss it, and my mind is running away with half-truths."

  "Do you suffer with a mind that runs away with fantastical notions?"

  "I simply wish to know what happened and no one is telling me."

  "They are very good at not telling," he said cryptically. "They're very good at lying too."

  "What is that supposed to mean?" Aldine stepped further into the stable, so she could better see his face. Little of what he said made sense to her, as if h
e was speaking in riddles.

  "Nothing," he finally said. "Yes, Heinrich's second bride grew ill and died."

  "Did he love her?"

  "How am I supposed to know? Not the kind of man who makes declarations of love in front of all and sundry. You'll have to ask him."

  "And the other?"

  Wolfgang pursed his lips for a while. "Slipped and fell. Hit her head. It killed her."

  "In the house?"

  "In the forest."

  Somehow, that answer felt worse. Notions of moss people and sprites whirred through her head, before she controlled her own ridiculous thoughts. Wolfgang would likely ridicule her if he knew what actually crept up in her mind. If his brother was not one for public declarations of love, Wolfgang didn't seem one for kindness and understanding. There appeared to be a very hard core to this man, but at least he was answering her questions.

  "Who found her?" he asked.

  "Heinrich. We all had to go search for her when she didn't come home. We found her the next day."

  "She must have gone far."

  The man shrugged and picked something from his pocket and put it in his mouth. "Not too far. We simply didn't find her until the next day."

  "That's awful." Elke's warning to be careful in the forest made more sense now. Aldine supposed there was little point in asking if Heinrich loved her either. "Was she from around here?"

  "Not far away." So they had likely known each other growing up. Wolfgang was running out of patience with her and pressed past as he walked out of the stables, leaving her to her own thoughts.

  Aldine supposed that all she really wanted to know was if Heinrich's heart was closed to her, and she still had no more information on that count. Poor Heinrich, losing two brides. It had to affect him, but she had seen no trace of that sorrow in the man she had grown to know during their honeymoon in Italy. Had he not known these women enough to mourn them deeply, or had the man she had gotten to know been a lie?