Seraphina batted aside a cobweb that had attached itself to the hood of her cloak. “Shall we walk toward our certain doom together instead of doing this single file?”
“Single file might allow at least one of us to escape if something tries to ambush us,” Annaliese said as Wiggles and Fidget slunk up to join them, the ferrets taking one look at the suitsof armor displayed in the hallway before they exchanged a few chirps, then turned and bolted toward the front door.
“Think that’s a sign there’s something terrifying waiting for us at the end of the hallway?” Seraphina asked.
“Since I’ve never seen them do that before, probably,” Annaliese admitted.
“Perhaps we should arm ourselves with a few of the lances just to be on the safe side,” Seraphina said, striding over to some armor and tugging a lance free, wobbling around a bit before she used both hands to hold out what seemed to be a very heavy object to Drusilla.
Drusilla frowned. “Do you honestly believe my sister and I have the slightest idea how to wield a lance, or worse yet, a mace?”
“An excellent question, and one that suggests it would be more dangerous to arm you and Annaliese, so I’ll be responsible for our defense if we encounter any trouble.”
“You know how to use a lance?” Annaliese asked.
Seraphina smiled. “I told you, I acquired some unusual skills in Switzerland.” She took a second to look over the lance, tested the weight, seemed to settle for holding it exactly in the middle, then nodded down the hallway. “I’ll lead the way.”
Walking behind Seraphina, who was now pointing the lance in front of her and holding it in what appeared to be a practiced grip, Drusilla soon found herself moving out of the hallway and into a very large room, one that had a long, rough-hewn table in it that could have easily accommodated a hundred guests.
“Does anyone else hear that tinkling sound?” Annaliese whispered.
Seraphina stopped in her tracks and tilted her head. “It sounds like bells.”
“Think the ghosts are doing that?” Annaliese asked right as the tinkling grew louder and was then joined by what sounded exactly like hooves rushing over the hard floor.
“It’s not ghosts—it’s goats!” Seraphina yelled, no longer bothering to keep her voice lowered as what appeared to be an entire herd of goats came clambering into the room, the bells hanging from their necks making a horrible racket, that racket joined by the sound of a honking noise that was being emitted from a goose that had just waddled into the room, moving as fast as its webbed feet would allow.
Before Drusilla had a chance to wonder why goats and a goose would be in the castle in the first place, the goat leading the group set its sights on her, changed direction, and charged her way.
Seven
Mr. Rhenick Whittenbecker was a man who was accustomed to being surrounded by members of the feminine set.
Being the only son, as well as the eldest of the Whittenbecker family, which consisted of his parents, Franklin and Wilhelmine, and four younger sisters—Tilda, Eloise, Grace, and Coraline—he’d grown up immersed in a world filled with petticoats, ribbons, various shades of pink, and cute little bunnies his sisters simply couldn’t live without.
He was also the only male cousin until recently to be born into any of the other Whittenbecker families, as well as the Akerman branches, his mother’s side, which made him somewhat of a novelty in his female cousins’ eyes and was exactly why those cousins had always clamored for his attention during every family gathering.
That clamoring usually resulted in the girls going to unusual lengths to garner his notice, which was exactly why he was more than proficient with rescuing girls from trees, tending to skinned knees and elbows, and then, once the girls began turning into young ladies, providing a sympathetic shoulder for them to cry on after they suffered what they believed were end-of-the-worldproblems, all of which normally involved young men who didn’t return their affections or, worse yet, unfortunate hairstyles.
His familiarity with everything feminine was why, after he’d seen Ottilie’s front gate open, he’d decided to drop by in the hopes that his dear friend had finally returned home because he was concerned that, as a lady living without the benefit of a gentleman’s presence, her welfare might very well be in jeopardy, as there’d been some disturbing situations pertaining to her castle while she’d been away.
He’d not even made it to the castle entrance, though, before he’d spotted a young lady with red hair dashing down the drive, shouting something about mad goats. His first inclination had been to leap from Sweet Pea, a stallion his youngest sister had named because he’d made the mistake of bringing his new horse home on Coraline’s birthday, which had made it impossible for him to refuse her request to name it, and race to the redhead’s assistance.
That inclination had disappeared in a trice, though, when something furry materialized from the collar of the lady’s cloak, something he’d first assumed was a fur wrap that had come loose due to all the dashing—until that bit of fur scrambled to the lady’s shoulder, leapt to the ground, and then scurried off toward a grove of trees, leaving the young lady changing directions to charge after it.
Even with all his feminine experience, he’d never once witnessed a lady wearing what had appeared to be a ferret, but before he could contemplate the matter further or help her recapture a most unusual fashion accessory, a cloaked figure came rushing down the steps—gripping a lance, no less—one she evidently wasn’t comfortable using against any of the numerous goats that were chasing her.
To his astonishment, that figure, clearly a woman, bolted for a stone wall that bordered the castle, tossed the lance over it, then made an impressive leap and disappeared over the wall,leaving the goats scrambling about as they tried to figure out how to continue chasing her.
Deciding the cloaked woman was probably safe for now, Rhenick nudged Sweet Pea in the direction the ferret-chasing lady had gone, reining his horse to a stop again when Norbert Tweed, Ottilie’s longtime groundskeeper, came barreling into view, brandishing a rifle. A blink of an eye later, Norbert disappeared into the castle, and a second after that, additional goats came charging through the front door.
What a herd of goats was doing in the castle was a little puzzling, but considering they were heading directly for Sweet Pea and his horse was now tossing its head in an agitated state, which normally proceeded an attempt to unseat his rider, Rhenick abandoned the urge to puzzle out the goat situation or the ferret one, and swung from the saddle instead. His feet barely hit the gravel before Sweet Pea bolted away, leaving Rhenick behind as the goats immediately took to scrambling after his horse.
To say it was a most unusual state of affairs was an understatement, as was the fact that, instead of taking any type of decisive action, something he was known for always doing, he found himself in a bit of a quandary, unsure of which situation he should address first.
His indecision came to a rapid end when a shot rang out from inside the castle.
Breaking into a run, Rhenick took the steps two at a time, his progress impeded when he was forced to dodge a goat that was galloping through the door, one that gave him an uncalled-for ramming of its head before it charged past him, the ramming leaving him limping his way into the castle. He was then forced to edge his way along the wall in order to avoid another goat that was trundling down the hallway.
