Hilary was very glad they sent a servant to fetch them. She didn’t think they ever would have found their way to the kitchen on their own! That Gothic monstrosity was a maze, with halls upon halls. She’d never seen so many rooms, not even in the massive penthouse in New York she and Jeffrey used to own. They’d talked about getting a place of their own for years, something larger, with a better garden. Something very much like this, though maybe a little less likely to have gargoyles leering at every corner.
They arrived at the kitchen to find a tall, lanky female fox bent over what looked to be a surprisingly modern stove. What did surprise Hilary was how cheerful the kitchen itself was, especially compared to the rest of the house. The walls were a sunny yellow, matching the sunshine flooding into the room through sparkling windows and snowy white lace curtains.
The table was set for five, round and small and barely able to fit all of them. The requested meals were on the pink flowered tablecloth, along with a pot of coffee and a delicate pink teacup filled with steaming tea for Betty. Roses, probably from the hot house, gave off a sweet scent in a large glass jar.
“Hi girls!” The Bear beamed under his twitching whiskers. He’d traded the white shirt and gray slacks for a hastily-buttoned plaid flannel shirt and blue woolen pants that barely fit his hulking frame. “Mrs. Fox and I…we set up breakfast…for you.”
His paws fumbled and nearly knocked the chair over, but he did manage to pull Betty’s out for her. “Thank you, Bear. That was very kind of you.”
“Here you go, Miss Hilary.” Mr. Cat had an easier time pulling out the chair for her. “Here’s your chair, right where we left it.”
“Thank you, sir.” Hilary sighed as she attended to her eggs. “Do be careful, Bear. If that is your name. I suspect some of these are antiques.”
“I’m sorry miss.” Bear stumbled back, nearly knocking into a rack of pots. “I am trying. Can’t always control these big paws…”
Betty glared at her sister as she reached for the butter. “Hilary, leave him alone. He can’t help the size of his paws!”
“Don’t you guys worry about me!” Maple grabbed her chair before Bear could. “I can seat myself there, hon.” She gave him her most flirtatious grin. “Aw, Hilary, don’t be a grouch. He’s kinda cute. Like a big ol’ teddy bear. He looks like Walter’s big brother.”
The Bear blushed, but his big grin looked more like a strangely familiar manager’s smirk. “I do?”
“Oh yeah.” Maple downed her coffee. “I think Walter would like ya.”
“Here’s your waffles, Maple.” The woman serving Maple’s waffles was a tall, skinny fox with wavy, slightly faded orange-red fur and no-nonsense brown eyes. Her sharp nose and long dark whiskers twitched under flame orange fox ears. “There’s more on the counter, if anyone else wants some.”
“Thanks, miss!” Maple immediately drowned her waffle in most of the syrup bottle. “Sure smells good!”
“Oh, you can call me Mrs. Fox.” The older woman set a plate of fish and apples in front of Bear. “Here you go. And be careful deboning the fish in front of the ladies. You know that can get messy.”
Bear rolled his eyes. “I a big bear. Not cub. I will be good.”
“I suppose you’re the cook here.” Hilary cut carefully into her eggs. “A little runny. I prefer mine on the firmer side. And the bacon should be crispier.”
Mrs. Fox rolled her eyes and curtsied, but her brown eyes were mocking. “Yes, your Majesty.”
“Good. At least you’re recognizing your superiors.” Hilary took the milk glass salt shaker and shook it gently over her eggs. “Which reminds me, where are the rest of the…things…who live in this house?”
Bear gulped as he looked up from cutting into his silvery fish, his eyes suddenly frightened. “Master...Mr. Rabbit is with him. Rabbit always stays with him in the morning.”
“What about the Eagle?” Maple grinned through mouthfuls of waffle. “Ain’t he gonna join us?”
“Eagle catches his own fish. He’s a bird of prey.” Mrs. Fox wiped up the puddles of syrup around Maple’s plate. “He eats in his office. He’ll likely be working there all day.”
“Maple, please chew with your mouth closed.” Hilary sipped her perfectly roasted coffee. “Mrs. Fox, we need to ask you a few questions.”
The tall housekeeper turned quickly to the stove. “About what?”
“About everything that’s going on in this house.” Betty looked up from her oatmeal. “Mrs. Fox, we had these strange dreams last night. All of us did.”
“Oh yeah.” Maple leaned on the table, ignoring her elbow ending up in another syrup puddle. “I saw the nicest guy in mine. He had this really cute little-boy smile, and gorgeous eyes, an’ he gave me roses. It was like I could smell ‘em!”
Betty closed her eyes, the dream still lingering in her subconscious. “The bigger one…the one who gave me roses…I know I’ve seen him before. He was so charming! That grin was like Clark Gable’s. And those amber eyes…” She sighed and opened her own amber orbs. “But she hurt him first, let those animals of hers attack him, just because he tried to protect me.”
Bear gently put his paw on Betty’s hand. “I would pr...protect you.”
She smiled. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“Betty,” Hilary coughed as she moved her hand from Bear’s, “you need to finish your oatmeal. Bear,” she added, “maybe you can give us some answers. I saw my husband…ex-husband in my dream last night. He said something about ‘appearances can be deceiving.” She narrowed her eyes. “Before that traitorous trollop wife of his showed up and said everything of mine belonged to her. You wouldn’t have seen a Jeff Singer in this household? Tall, handsome, dimples, likely to jump into anything without thinking?”
Bear stopped mid-chew on his gutted fish. “I…” He closed his eyes. “I know the name. Iheard it…she…he was…no…” Betty squeezed his paw, making sure to be careful of his claws. When he opened his eyes, they were black and empty again. “I…no. She…” He gulped. “The Master…she hurt him…me…”
“Speaking of,” Hilary added, “where is the so-called ‘Master? I want to have a word with him, or several. Someone needs to start talking and telling me what this is all about!”
Everyone looked up as the Troll’s roar blasted down the hall, nearly knocking the salt and pepper shaker off the table and shattering the vase. “I wish he’d learn to announce himself more quietly!” Mrs. Fox grumbled as she gathered another plate of eggs and bacon. “He breaks half the glass in the household when he roars like that, and guess who has to clean it up?”
“Mrs. Fox!” Troll stormed into the room, his mass of coarse dark curls flowing behind him like a cape, even under his unflattering dun yellow shirt and brown trousers that just made his wart-crusted skin look greener. “That had better be my breakfast. And ladies, you are late. I said 8 AM!”
“May I remind you,” Hilary snapped, “that you’re late as well? You need to start following your own rules. Sit down, before you give yourself apoplexy.”
“We haven’t decided what to do about the other women.” Troll leaned his claws on the table, his roar making the entire table shake. “I want them to go. I asked for you.”
Hilary ignored him and concentrated on her eggs. “And I say they stay. You still haven’t told me why you wanted me here, besides a rose that my father took quite innocently.”
The Troll’s non-existent nostrils flared. “He stole my property!”
“Sit down to breakfast and act whatever your age is. The eggs aren’t great, but they aren’t bad either. He didn’t know he was stealing.”
“Master,” Mrs. Fox delivered him his plate as he yanked the chair next to Hilary so hard, it almost toppled over, “here’s your breakfast. And would you please announce yourself more quietly next time? You keep breaking half the glasses in this household! I’m tired of cleaning up after your mess, because you’re in a bad mood!”
“Your housekeeper is more intelligent than she looks.” Hilary smirked as she tore her bacon into bite-sized bits. “She’s right. You really need to dial down that temper, and this is coming from me.”
“Sir,” Betty went on quickly, before Troll let out another roar, “we really need to ask all of you some questions. There’s something strange going on here.”
“Yeah,” Maple added through the last of her waffles, “can I have more? And where did you get the syrup? This stuff is really good!”
He rolled his eyes at Maple. “The syrup is from a fishing trip in Vermont. And no. No one is eating anything else. You ladies are going home.”
“Aww! I wanna stay!” Maple reached for her coffee. “We haven’t seen the whole house yet! And how come your buddy with the feathers ain’t here?”
The Troll glared. “He takes all his meals in his office. He’s doing important work there.” He awkwardly handled the fork, barely managing to bite into his eggs. “I asked for the eldest daughter. We’ll be having dinner together tonight. Just the two of us. I have something I need to ask her.”
“Whatever you need to say,” Hilary snapped as she finished the last bit of bacon, “can be said in front of my sisters.”
The Troll glared so hard, the Bear gulped and pulled back. “Miss Booth, it’s private.”
Mr. Rabbit immediately fussed around the Troll, bringing him napkins, a mug of coffee, then going back for cream and sugar. “I’ll give you this,” Hilary smirked. “You certainly have your household well-trained. I’ll have sugar and cream as well, Mr. Rabbit.”
Troll glared at her. “Don’t order my servant around.”
“Well, if I’m going to stay here, that makes him my servant, too.” Hilary patted her lips with the napkin. “Not bad, for an enchanted household. Look, you…whatever you are.”
“I,” the creature growled, “am a troll.”
“Look,” Hilary continued, “we’ll make a deal. If I eat dinner with you, my sisters stay here. If they go, I go. We’re all in on this together. There’s obviously something going on, and I want to find out what it is.”
“There is NOTHING going on!” Troll’s roar nearly shattered the glass vase. He shoved the table so hard, the vase toppled over, and the plates almost ended up in everyone’s laps. He turned his glare to the trembling Bear, who was attempting to hide under the table. “Bear, get up and stop acting like a fool. Help Mrs. Fox clean up breakfast, then find rooms for the women, if they must stay.”
“Oh, knock it off.” Hilary stood, brushing off her dress. “Stop scaring the help. Bear isn’t the brightest creature in this household, but he’s been helpful, which is more than I can say for you.” She ignored Troll’s angry sputters and turned to Mr. Cat, who swept up the breakfast mess. “Mr. Cat, is there somewhere I can do some research in this mausoleum?”
“Oh, we have a very good library.” Mr. Cat leaned into his broom thoughtfully. “It’s upstairs, last room at the end of the hall. There’s lots of books there, but I prefer the couches near the window. Wonderful place,” he yawned, “for a cat nap.”
Betty’s eyes lit up like Fourth of July fireworks. “There’s a library?”
Hilary frowned at her sister. “Don’t you have scripts to work on?”
“Yes, but I’m almost finished.” Betty handed her plate to Mrs. Fox. “I could go there later, after lunch. Where do the rest of us eat meals?”
“You,” Troll snarled, “will eat in the kitchen with Bear and the rest of the help. Lunch is at noon and dinner is at six.”
“What about Eagle?” Maple handed Mrs. Fox her plates and grabbed a napkin to wipe at her sticky elbow. “How come he’s hidin’? What’s he doin’ in those offices?”
Bear tried to pick up the remains of his fish. “He’s doing…” His dark eyes closed again. When they opened, they were once again blank. “Something big, I think…Europe…”
“Oh, what do you know?” He shoved the Bear at the sink. “Help Mrs. Fox with the dishes, then chop firewood. We’re going to need it, with more bodies in this house.”
“Bear!” Betty hurried to him as he nearly stumbled over his chair. She gave Troll such a glare, he almost stepped back. “Why did you do that? What did he ever do to you?”
“Boy, are you in a mood, pal.” Maple made a face. “I’m gonna go explore this place. It’s got more rooms’ the Waldorf Astoria. Anyone want to come with me?”
“You can go anywhere in the house,” Troll grumbled, “but stay away from my rooms.” The twitchy rabbit nodded and wiped up the coffee that spilled around the Troll’s plate.
“Ok, ok!” Maple made a face. “Sheesh. I can take a hint. How about you, Betty? Up for some explorin’?”
“No,” Betty shook her head. “I need to finish those scripts.” She turned her sweet smile on the trembling Bear. “Maybe you could take Hilary and me to the library after you finish your chores?”
Bear’s round-cheeked smile nearly made her knees weak. “I’d like that. Later? After lunch?”
Betty rubbed his paw. “It’s a date.”
His big grin made her feel warm all over. “A date. That good.”
“Betty!” Hilary did not like an ursine charmer flirting with her brilliant sister. “You have work to do, as does he. Mr. Cat, please lead me to the nearest phone.”
“Oh, I can do that.” Mr. Cat put his broom aside. “It’s right around the corner here. Unless it’s moved. Phones do that, I think.”
As she, Maple, and a reluctant Betty followed him out the door, she swore she heard Mrs. Fox. “You know, Troll, if you want to break the curse, you should treat your wife a little better.”
“Ex-wife, Mrs. Fox. She walked out on me.”
“No.” Bear’s halting tongue broke through the running water and clattering dishes. “Wife, Troll. She…” there was that blank pause. “Loved you.”
“Oh, damn it!” His roar was tinged with frustration now. “I’ll be in my rooms. I gave you the menu for tonight, Mrs. Fox. I want it followed to the letter. To the letter!”
Maple made a face as he stormed in the opposite direction towards the stairs, nearly running into her. “What got into that jerk?”
“Don’t know.” Hilary rolled her eyes. “Don’t care.” She stopped by the phone in the hall. “I’m going to call records at Pittsburgh City Hall. Someone has to have some idea of who owns this leftover from a bad fantasy film.”
“Ok, Hilary.” Maple waved. “See ya later.” She turned to Mr. Cat, who swept the floor near Hilary. “Hey, you wouldn’t know where the office is, would ya?”
“If you mean Eagle’s office, it’s upstairs.” He pointed to the staircase. “First door on your right, miss.”
“Hey, thanks.” She gave Mr. Cat another scratch on his neck to make him purr before she and Betty took off upstairs.
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