Deceit: A Beauty and the Beast Novel (8 page)

“Is there something wrong with me?” He looked
at me with worry. “Not that everyone watches me,” I clarified
quickly, “but that I don’t watch back.”

He smiled again, a small, soft smile.

“I don’t think so. I think you’re waiting for
the right moment.”

I frowned, and he laughed.

“You think before you feel,” he said.

As I considered his words, I knew he was
right.

We rode the rest of the distance in silence,
and I asked him to drop me off by the mill so I could walk the rest
of the way. When he slowed the team, I turned to kiss his cheek
again. However, he turned at the same time and our lips met. A
tingle of shock ran through me, and I pulled back in surprise.

Henick chuckled at my expression.

“Have you ever been kissed?” he asked.

“I have now,” I mumbled.

“I’m honored to be the first,” he said. He
made no move to claim another one. I felt sure if it were the beast
beside me instead of Henick, I would be fighting for my
freedom.

Beside us, a crow cawed from a post bordering
the mill. I stared at it as I licked my lips.

“Thank you, Henick,” I said quietly, jumping
to the ground before he could move to help me.

“Perhaps I’ll see you on the road again,” he
said in farewell and encouraged the team forward.

I watched him disappear down the lane and,
lost in thought, started toward the market district. A familiar
laugh drew me from my reverie as I passed a baker’s stall.

Bryn stood with the baker’s son in quiet
discussion, leaning toward him and touching his arm lightly. He
looked similar to Tennen. The young man’s eyes repeatedly dipped to
Bryn’s cleavage, and his blush deepened each time.

Bryn spied me and said a quick, shy farewell
to the man before walking my way. I waited for her, glad she wore a
smile for a change. She looked much prettier for it.

“He’s the one,” she whispered, hooking her
arm through mine. We walked toward home.

“What one?” I asked.

“The one who will offer for me. Edmund
Rouflyn. His father runs the most successful bakery in the Water.
It’s just the two of them.”

“I’m so happy for you, Bryn.” I hugged her
side. “Is he excited for the baby?”

She dug her fingers into my arm.

“Quiet,” she hissed.

I frowned at her, not understanding her
change in mood at first. Then, it dawned on me.

“You haven’t told him?”

“He looks a lot like Tennen. He will never
know it’s not his because we’ve already been together,” she
whispered to me as she smiled and nodded to someone else in the
market. “And he’s much better than Tennen, too.” She glanced at me
from the corner of her eye. “You wouldn’t know anything about that
yet, would you,” she said with a sigh.

Not knowing how to respond to that, I asked
about Blye.

“She’s doing well enough. Her dresses are
selling, but slowly. Father’s still trying to marry her off. She’s
getting offers but isn’t in a position where she needs to settle
like me.”

Bryn was in a chatty mood and didn’t give me
any opportunity to excuse myself until it was well past ten. I knew
the sisters were already taking clients, so I spent a long, boring
day with my sister, who repeatedly begged me to bring something of
value to trade the next time I visited.

When she began to prepare dinner, she
politely told me there wasn’t enough for four. I excused myself to
meet Father on his way home.

I told him of Bryn’s hope of the baker’s son,
and he nodded, sharing my concerns. He was disappointed he’d missed
the opportunity to visit with me but was glad I’d spent time with
Bryn. I left him with a kiss on his cheek and began the walk back
to the estate.

* * * *

When I returned, the kitchen was quiet and
still destroyed. I skirted the wreckage and cautiously wandered the
halls, speculating on the mood in which I would find the beast.
Near the study, I heard an odd clicking noise. I stilled in the
hallway, listening intently. It sounded like a tap of something
against the glass.

Peering around the door, I watched in
amazement as the beast threw open a window to let the crow in. The
crow sat on the sill and cawed several times, clacking his beak in
between caws. The beast watched him in silence, his fur slowly
standing on end.

Beyond the crow, the sight of the wood nymph
distracted me from the pair. Solid, she remained bent at the waist,
her hair-like branches trailing the ground. As I watched, the
spring green leaves from her hair fluttered to the earth in slow
solidarity. The bark of her torso looked thin and curled in some
places as if peeling away. The trunk of one leg glistened wetly.
She looked broken.

The crow took flight, startling a noise from
me as the beast rounded on me.

“You kissed him?” he roared.

The wood nymph trembled outside.

“You are mine,” he growled, stalking toward
me.

I stepped forward, meeting him without
fear.

“Kiss me as you did him.”

“No,” I shouted, angry. He needed to be told
no regardless of our agreement. “I’ll end up broken or worse. Look
at her!” I gestured at the wood nymph through the window. “If she
were human, she would be ripped and bleeding. You are a beast. You
don’t stop and think how your actions might affect others. You have
no regard for anyone but yourself and your own satisfaction.”

He was no longer listening to me but stood
before the window, staring at the nymph.

“Human,” he said, before spinning from the
window and racing from the room on all fours.

I glanced out the window in confusion. More
leaves fell from the nymph’s hair, and I wondered how many times
he’d taken her.

The beast turned the corner at a run. When he
reached her solidified form, he began speaking in earnest whispers.
I couldn’t hear the words, but the nymph came to life and collapsed
to the ground. The beast scooped her into his arms and ran out of
sight.

I shook my head. He needed to think with
something other than his root.

I didn’t see him again for three days. All
the while, a storm lashed at the manor.

* * * *

When the storm finally cleared, I grabbed the
bag from the servant’s quarters, dressed in my trousers and shirt,
and strode out into the tranquil, dripping wet world. The sun made
a valiant effort to break through the thick clouds above, but I
knew it wouldn’t succeed. It was magic that had made the storm, and
only magic would clear it.

I left through the front gate with no
intention of going very far. It wasn’t my day to visit my family. I
wanted to walk the wall as I used to and see if there was anything
I could gather for Bryn. Since the beast wasn’t there to ask, I
decided to try it without his permission.

Turning west, so I would visit the enchanted
patch of ground last, I started my long walk. A caw from above
didn’t surprise me, and I looked up to see the crow hop from branch
to branch to keep up with me.

“I thought we were friends. How could you
tell him I kissed Henick when you saw exactly what happened? It was
an accident, and nothing came of it.” I scowled at the bird as it
cawed again. “I suppose you’re going to fly off now and tell him I
left. This, too, is innocent. Just a walk around the wall out of
boredom. But go ahead, tattle.” I waved it away, but it stuck to me
doggedly. So, I ignored it.

The wall offered me a bunch of primrose on
the north side and cabbage at the patch of raw earth. Happy with my
findings, I rounded the wall toward the gate. The crow cawed loudly
in warning, and I saw the beast standing just within the gates.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“Ask Mr. Crow,” I said, slipping through the
gates to walk past him.

The crow cawed once and flew away. The beast
followed me back to the manor and continued to follow me for the
rest of the day. I didn’t speak again.

* * * *

When I woke in the morning, the gossamer
dresses were back. I glared at them then went to yank open my door.
The beast waited without his mist. I stood before him, dressed in
his shirt.

“No.” I said the single word with
finality.

“Yes,” he returned calmly. “Go put on one of
the dresses. I will try again.”

“I refuse,” I said, crossing my arms. “The
problem with your plan is that you’re too used to getting your way.
You need to learn how to contain yourself when someone refuses you.
Until you can, I will dress as I please, not as you please.”

He growled at me, an angry light filling his
eyes. Then he huffed out a breath and rubbed a paw over his
face.

“You are correct. I need to learn control,”
he said as a haunted look came to his eyes. “Dress as you
please.”

He turned to stalk away, but I stopped
him.

“Were you so horrible as a man?” I asked.

“You know?” he asked, sounding strained.

“I guessed, but now I know.”

He turned and walked away.

When I opened the wardrobe, it offered
something of every style. The sheer gowns were there as were the
plain ones that would cover me. But I also spotted trousers and
shirts. I smiled and dressed as I pleased, knowing the beast’s
control of the magic had returned.

* * * *

I found him much later, pacing outdoors near
the place the wood nymphs had favored. He didn’t seem to hear my
approach, and I paused to study him.

Weeks ago, I would have considered his back
and forth movement a prowl. Now, I saw his frustration in the bend
of his ears, his guilt in the droop of his tail, and his
hopelessness in the weary set of his great shoulders. How could I
not feel pity for such a creature?

“How is she?” I asked.

He stopped his pacing and turned toward
me.

“Healing.” Regret laced that single word.

“If I continue to help you, I need your word
that Rose alone will be the recipient of your attentions.”

His gaze dropped to the ground beside him.
Tiny leaves dotted the area. Her hair.

“You have my word.”

The words barely reached my ears, but it was
enough. I cleared my throat and set my resolve. I would help
him.

“Can I still do as I please?” I asked.

He snorted in response.

“Given your refusal to listen to any command
I make, I would say yes.”

“Perfect. I’ll return before dinner,” I spun
away with the hope that he’d wonder what I intended.

I didn’t walk very far, my bag gently tapping
against my hip, when I heard him follow. There were a few things
we’d misunderstood when trying abstinence to help his chances with
the enchantress. His willpower and his boredom. He had too much of
one and not enough of the other.

Now, I planned to coax him from his shadows
of observance into the light of participation. It most likely
wouldn’t work, and he would roar and growl and leave in a storm,
but the more we tried, the more I learned about him. I felt certain
I’d eventually learn enough to truly help him.

Marching north, I ambled through fallow
fields and quiet forests until I came to the wall. Unlacing my
boots, I tossed them to the ground and began to climb one of the
trees that stretched over the stacked stones.

“You’re going to fall. Get down,” he called
to me as I climbed out of his reach.

Laughing, I kept climbing up and up until I
reached the thinner branches of the canopy. I looked to the south,
and far in the distance, I saw a bit of roofline. To the northwest,
the moving waters of the river twinkled in the sunlight. I looked
down at the beast.

“Are you able to leave these walls?”

“Yes,” he said suspiciously, “Why?”

I crossed my legs around the branch and
started scooting forward toward the empty space that separated me
from my destination. I loosened my legs and dangled from the branch
to squat on top of the wall.

“Then come on.”

He looked up at me with concern.

I slipped over the wall and out of his sight.
Slowly, I worked my way down the wall, one foot and handhold at a
time. The beast sailed over the wall, his back feet clipping it
with a thunk, before I reached the ground.

“Impressive,” I said, looking up at the top
of the wall that towered above my head. “You can clear it in one
jump?”

“Yes, when necessary,” he said, sniffing the
air. “Why are we outside the estate? It isn’t safe.”

I scoffed at his concern. He was an enchanted
beast. What had he to fear? I briefly thought of the stories of
hunters and pillagers who’d tried to come for him in the past then
quickly started walking away from the wall.

“You’ll see why. It’s a bit further. Come
on.”

We walked for another hour before the sound
of the river reached my ears. My bare feet were starting to hurt,
and I regretted not bringing the boots in the bag. But, I’d worried
they would cause me to lose my balance on the tree.

Finding a quiet inlet, I stripped two
branches for poles, attached the string and hooks I’d discovered in
the bag, and handed one to the beast. I sat on a rock at the
river’s edge and dangled my feet into the cool water. The beast
stood beside me, holding the pole uncertainly for a moment, then he
joined me.

We sat in companionable silence for several
hours while the fish ate our worms and laughed at our efforts. With
the sun overhead, I pulled my hook from the water and opened my
bag, hungry for the bread and cheese I’d taken from the
kitchen.

Reaching to offer the beast half of the food,
I watched him study the water. His eyes darted over the surface,
following the shadows of the fish underneath.

“This is pointless,” he growled.

I smiled at his frustration. “It’s how most
people eat every day,” I said, handing him the food. “Haven’t you
ever had to work for your food?”

He scowled at me, but he accepted what I
offered.