Beauty Meets Her Beast

The morning dawned crisp and clear, and I watched the sun rise from the comfort of my bed, a luxury I couldn't afford anymore at home. I didn't know what to expect from today. Would his lordship attack me again, or was he thoroughly shamed from his behavior, sufficiently enough that he might even avoid me? And when was I to begin my actual work? My stomach growled, and I decided to brave venturing from my room. I'd been too nervous to eat yesterday morning, and then I'd barely touched my dinner last night. Despite my nerves, I was ravenous. I put on the simplest garment I could find in the wardrobe, a brown, stiff fabric that draped softly over me without hugging too closely. Best not to put any thoughts in Lord August's mind, should he happen to be about.

Not knowing where else to go, I made my way to the dining room again. It appeared I was expected, for there was a steaming kettle of tea and a hearty breakfast laid out on my end of the table. I tucked in with gusto, lingering over my last cup of tea as I put off whatever might be next. Mrs. Delvers came in as I was nursing the dregs.

"Ah, you're up. We didn't know what sort of thing you might prefer for breakfast. Her ladyship never ate heartily in the morning, she was so conscious of her figure." Her eyes roved over the meager remains of the food and I felt like a pig at trough.

"It was perfect, very delicious, thank you. Please don't trouble yourselves, whatever his lordship eats for breakfast will be fine for me." Mrs. Delvers nodded, her lips pursed.

"Very well then. Mr. Browne will be waiting for you in the greenhouse to begin your lessons in rose care. If you've quite finished," she said haughtily and I instantly set my teacup down and stood up.

"Yes of course," I gestured. "Please lead the way." She set off at her speedy pace, through the corridors and halls and I tried to memorize the route. In a minute she stopped at a set of doors.

"Through there." She turned and left without another word. I grabbed the door handle and pushed my way in, then stopped and stared in awe.

I'd never seen such roses. Great, fat buds of scarlet, petite blooms of the palest pink, blossoms of white as pure as snow all vied for the position of most beautiful rose. The scent was heady and thick and I inhaled deeply. The green of the leaves and stems varied in color nearly as much as the flowers themselves, setting the background perfectly for the pops of color the roses provided. A tall bush of fat peach roses waved its fragrant blooms in my face, and I plunged my nose in.

"I like to see appreciation for my work!" a cheerful voice called out from behind a clump of bushes. A head popped up, grinning. "Name's Browne, but I expect you'll have been told that." I smiled back at him.

"I'm Belle. I expect you know all about me though."

"Oh a fair bit. Master says you're to work with the roses, and I could use a hand now and then so I'm in no position to object." He stood and came over to me, and began explaining the different varietals of roses, starting with the peach beauties I'd admired first. The pride in his voice was obvious, and as I asked questions, he grew more excited, going into greater and greater detail. By the time we'd reached the last bush, a white blossom tipped with red, I'd learned more about roses than I'd ever thought possible. Producing a pair of shears, Mr. Browne went over the finer points of pruning with me, and after I'd demonstrated skill and knowledge to his satisfaction he left me to one half of the greenhouse while he worked on the other. He whistled while he clipped and snipped, and I found the rhythm very soothing. We stopped for a small lunch at midday, which was brought to us by the same servant who'd served dinner last night. After lunch I started to go back to work, but Browne stopped me.

"No, miss. You're only to be here in the mornings. Master's orders." I tried to persuade him to let me stay, but he was firm. With a sigh of resignation, I headed back to my room, unsure of where else to go, or what Lord August had in mind for my afternoons. I wished I had a book, or a horse to ride. Anything to do, really. I flopped onto my bed, staring out the window. To my surprise, there was movement on the grounds. Lord August was striding across the lawn, cutting quite an impressive picture, and in spite of myself I couldn't help admiring the way he filled out his breeches, and his broad, powerful shoulders. He was a man by every definition, and even the marring of his face didn't detract from his physical appeal. My thoughts wandered back to the previous night, when he'd held my breast in his hand, the way his thumb had splayed over it, caressing...

Shaking my head to clear it, I decided the best thing to do was to go explore my new home. Surely there was a library, or parlor where I might find embroidery materials to occupy my time. Clearly my thoughts needed the distraction. I set out of my room, turning left down the hallway instead of right this time. Most of the doors opened onto spare bedrooms or storage areas. A few were entirely empty but for dust and cobwebs. At last I found the library. It was warm and bright with all the large windows. Sighing with pleasure, I ran my hands over the spines of the books, greeting them like old friends. There was a settee in the corner, just right for reading on, and I'd soon selected a book and settled in. Hours passed and as the sun began its descent below the horizon I knew it was time to make my way to the dining room.

The brown dress was covered in streaks of dirt, and I fretted about ruining the cloth. Obviously I'd have to change before dinner. I couldn't bear to think of Mrs. Delvers' face if I wore a dirt smeared dress to dinner. Fortunately I remembered the way back to my room, and I made a selection from the wardrobe, this time a deep green shift of silk. The sleeves slid over my arms, almost sensuously. I admired my reflection in the mirror for a moment. Surely even Mrs. Delvers would approve. I steeled my nerves, preparing myself to face Lord August, and set off for the dining hall.

He wasn't there. There was no place set for him, only me. Had last night been an exception, then? Perhaps he'd only dined with me as a courtesy on my first night. I wondered where Lord August was taking his meal this evening. There was no shortage of options in so large a castle. The servant poured a glass of wine for me as I took my seat, and tonight I sipped it slowly. I enjoyed a quiet dinner and then retired to my room.

Over the next week, a routine developed. I had breakfast, worked in the garden with Browne, then after lunch I would read in the library until dinner. I never saw Lord August even outside, though I did occasionally glance out the window to see if he was on the grounds. Mrs. Delvers made a few remarks on my wardrobe choices, usually to inform me how much better her ladyship had looked in the same garment. I learned to smile and take her comments with grace. I began to think perhaps I would work off the debt without ever having to see Lord August again, but it was not to be.

*

About two weeks after I came to the castle, I began to grow restless with my routine. Instead of spending my afternoon in the library I decided to resume my exploring of the castle. Again I mostly found spare rooms. At one point I came across the kitchen, startling the chef and I hastened out, making my apologies. Near the Great Hall where I'd first come through I found a hunting trophy room. The walls were adorned with the stuffed heads of stags and wild cats, but it was the bear in the middle that was obviously the centerpiece. Standing tall on its hind legs, it was posed in a menacing fighting stance, teeth bared in a soundless growl. I stepped closer, looking at its long, sharp claws.

"My prize trophy, but I almost became his." I whirled around to find Lord August behind me. He raised his hand and indicated his scarred face. "It nearly killed me. The scars go further than you can see." His hand trailed down his neck and chest, and I had a sudden fleeting image of what his powerful chest might look like without his shirt, the scars angry and red atop his sinewy muscles. "It was just a glancing blow to my face," he continued, pulling me back to reality. "The real, deep wounds were here." His hand stopped over his chest.

"How did you survive?" I asked.

"Pure stubbornness, or so the doctor told me." He grinned. "That, and I killed him before he could inflict any more damage." When he smiled like that, you could almost forget about the scars on his face. I wondered at what a handsome man he must have been, before. As if he could feel my thoughts, his smile faded and he asked, "I am very ugly now, am I not?"

"No, my lord," I responded automatically, but I realized it was true. On a lesser man, the scars might have that effect, but on him they just added to his rugged quality. His masculinity could not be marred by a few claw marks. "Is this-" I gestured at the animals "-all you?"

"Mostly, though my father hunted too. It used to repulse my wife. All the blood and mess." He looked pained again, as he had the last time he spoke of her, and I thought how very much in love with her he must have been. Without realizing it, I stepped forward and took his hand in mine.

"I'm so sorry for you loss," I said. He said nothing, but gazed down at his large hand dwarfing my small one. "It must be very difficult for you. What was she like?"

"Like? She was nothing like you." He laughed bitterly, then dropped my hand as though it burned him. "I will be joining you for dinner tonight." He turned and left abruptly, leaving me confused and slightly hurt. I never knew where I stood with this mysterious man. I wondered what he was like before he lost his wife. Was he always so touchy and quick to overheat, or had the pain of emotional loss made him this way? I would probably never know.

Despite our rough start, I was looking forward to having company at dinner again. The days of quiet monotony made me welcome even an unknown quantity. He was volatile, but at least he was another person, who was not Mrs. Delvers. Browne was friendly, but never talked of anything but roses. I took extra care in dressing for dinner, lest I attract his physical attention again. He pulled a slight face when I walked into the dining hall wearing the button-up-neck dress, but whether it was a smirk or a grimace I could not say. Our dinner conversation was stilted at best, small talk about the weather and the niceties of linen napkins versus others, but I was grateful for the banal topics. When dinner had ended, he stood and offered me his arm again. I reluctantly accepted, hoping he didn't intend to walk me to my room, as he had last time. He steered me down the hallways, and as we neared the spot where the debacle had happened last time, he slowed.

"I feel I must apologize again for my actions the night you first arrived. You are very beautiful, and I must admit my desires got the better of me." I objected that I was not beautiful, but he stopped me, and turned me to him. "You are," he said again. "Quite lovely and I have not been around... lovely women in some time." He stared into my eyes and the intensity made me squirm a little. He reached out and held my face tenderly with one hand, turning it up towards his, and my heart began to pound with - fear? Excitement? Both, perhaps. Was he going to kiss me? Did I want him to kiss me? But the moment passed and he removed his hand, turning us to face forward again as we set off down the hall. We reached my door with no other incident and wished each other a good night. After he left I leaned against my closed door. What was wrong with me? Did I really want to be kissed by the man who had groped and assaulted me only two weeks earlier? I wasn't sure.

*

Another week passed much the same. Lord August became a regular fixture at the dinner table, and once he learned of my passion for books, our conversations improved. He joined me in the library one day to gather an armful of recommendations he said I must read. I spent a happy few minutes teasing him over his choice of a novel about fairies, which hardly seemed the sort of thing a rugged hunter would read, and to my surprise he had the grace to laugh at himself, explaining it had been one of his mother's favorites, and as a young lad he'd developed a fondness for it. The book did indeed look slightly worse for the wear, as though it had been read many, many times. The laughter never lasted very long with him though, he always grew serious again quickly. There was no further mention of the incident of the first night or the near kiss of the other night. Every time he walked me to my room he was the perfect gentleman, and I came to look forward to seeing him.

One night over dinner he suggested we go riding. When we'd lived in the city, I'd been quite fond of the exercise and I readily agreed. After my usual morning in the rose garden, I thumbed through the wardrobe till I found a suitable riding habit. It was a touch long, as were all the dresses, but once I was mounted it would hardly matter. I met his lordship in the Great Hall.

"You look well in riding clothes," he commented, and I felt myself blush like a schoolgirl.

"Thank you, my lord." He extended his arm to me and we began our walk to the stables.

"I don't keep many horses. I'm sure you've noticed I don't keep many servants either, and horses require a lot of care. I prefer a quieter existence in general, and my page is capable of caring for a few horses on his own." I nodded. The lack of servants did seem strange for such a large and obviously wealthy castle. I'd assumed as much, that he liked the solitude. Aside from the servant who brought me dinner and lunch, Mrs. Delvers, Browne, and the cook I'd startled, I'd not seen any. I knew of the page boy's existence, but had yet to see him. I tried to subtly avoid tripping over my overlong skirts while trying to match pace with his lordship. Large men take large strides. At the stable door he paused, frowning down at the skirt hanging over my boots. "We must get your skirts hemmed," he said, almost to himself. Hem the skirts? Was I going to be here that long? I'd thought surely another month or two at the most, and that was not so long to put up with holding up my skirts when I walked. I said nothing, though, out of fear of angering Lord August. We'd been getting on so well lately.

The stable smelled as all stables do, of horse and hay and manure. It was a comforting scent. The page boy rushed forward upon our entrance and Lord August told him to saddle Blitz and Jasper. A large black stallion was soon brought forward, and I hoped that his lordship did not expect me to ride such a beast. My experience had been mostly ladies' riding horses. Fortunately a grey gelding was also brought out, and he seemed quite a docile beast, blowing his horsey breath onto my forehead as he was saddled.

"I think you'll do well on old Jasper. He's yet to throw anyone." Lord August passed me the reins. "Her ladyship always preferred her show mare," he indicated a proud white head peering over a stable door, "But I think you will do well on Jasper." I insisted that yes, of course the horse would suit me well.

I would never expect to be given an expensive horse, particularly one that had belonged to his wife. How it must pain him to see that horse, to think of her! I mounted Jasper with some assistance from the page, and Lord August sprang onto Blitz in one fluid movement. He grinned at me and I thought again how handsome he was when he smiled. Then he spurred his horse forward and Jasper was eager to follow suit. We set out at a lively gait, and Lord August began to point out fixtures of the grounds.

"That fountain there," he pointed, "Was installed by my great, great uncle Hampton August. Some passing stone masons convinced him that anyone who bathed in the water from a fountain with an angel would be cured of their skin afflictions. Of course, they were gone before he set foot in it. As the story goes, he climbed in buck naked, then went tearing off after them on his horse, still naked, when he realized he'd been deceived." He laughed, and I did too, picturing the spectacle. He told me other stories as we roamed the castle grounds, laughing and smiling. He could be incredibly charming when he tried. Upon reaching the edge of the grounds and the beginning of the forest, Lord August slyly suggested a bit of a race.

"I don't think poor Jasper and I have much of a chance," I laughed. His impressive mount pawed the ground, as if he too expected a race.

"We'll give you a head start." His lordship had a glint in his eye, and I found it hard to resist his boyish enthusiasm.

"To the stables?" Lord August nodded. Without another word, I turned and spurred Jasper forward, laughing as I looked back at Lord August's startled expression. He had promised me a head start after all. About halfway back I heard the thunderous footfalls of Blitz behind us, and squeezed Jasper tighter with my legs, urging him to go faster. The stables were in sight. My hair was whipping back and round my face, and the my cloak streamed out behind me. We were nearly there! Just as we were closing in, there was a blur of black motion to my right, and Blitz and Lord August, his face set in determination, were now neck and neck with myself and Jasper. I leaned forward, flattening myself across Jasper's neck to reduce wind resistance, and gave him once last squeeze. He sprang forward as if the hounds of hell were chasing him. Perhaps he relished the chance to beat Blitz as much as I wanted to defeat Lord August. We pulled ahead and reached the stable, Jasper turning in a tight circle as he slowed. I smiled as Lord August slowed and came in behind us.

"Now tell the truth, did you let us win? I can't believe a gelding like this could defeat your stallion." Lord August didn't say a word, but pulled his horse immediately next to mine, and before I could react he was leaning down and then his mouth was on mine, hot and wet and demanding. My lips parted in surprise, and he slipped the tip of his tongue between them, softly caressing my own while his hands wound themselves through my hair. I was lost in the kiss, my lips moved of their own accord, my hands reached up to his chest. I found myself grabbing his shirt and pulling him in closer. What was I doing?!

I pushed against his chest with my hands, jerking my head back from him, and stared in shock. What had just happened? Hastily I swung my leg over Jasper and dropped gracelessly to the ground, stumbling as I attempted to run away. Damn these overlong skirts! I didn't know what I was doing, only that I had to get away. I heard Lord August calling my name, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I'd been a fool to believe that someone in his position wouldn't take advantage. I reached the castle door and began the ascent to my room. I heard heavy footfalls behind me and Lord August called after me again. I ran faster, I was nearly there. I reached my room and was closing the door just as he came into view. His face was set in a scowl again, but there was something else there... something hungry. I pushed the door closed and fumbled with the simple lock. My hands were shaking so badly I missed the catch twice before it took. I retreated from the door in terror. Lord August laughed through the door.

"Do you really think a lock could keep me out?" he bellowed. There was a heavy thud and the sound of splintering wood, and then he was in my room. I backed up until I felt the bed behind me and could go no further. Lord August advanced. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head, as if I could block him out entirely if I could no longer see him. He was standing in front of me, and he grabbed my shoulders and turned my head to face him. "Look at me," he hissed, and I obediently opened my eyes, afraid not to. "You can't run from me. You are mine now, you've promised to stay, and there's nowhere on these grounds that you can hide from me. Why did you run?"