by E J Kitchens
Chapter 13
“Beast,” Belinda began the next morning as they met leaving their rooms, “it’s a lovely day and—”
“No.”
“You need to expand your vocabulary.”
“And you your desires.”
“I was only going to comment on how lovely a walk in the garden would be. Before I suddenly fall unconscious at an inconvenient time.” She could only hope the change in schedule threw Lucrezia off, but Belinda wasn’t going to count on it for long. There was more than one way to skin a beast down to his human hide—and she’d figure that out—so there had to be more than one way to protect that hide from huntresses. Belinda wouldn’t be around dreaming for long, only three more weeks. Who would look after him then?
“You’re not going to fall asleep while I am here.”
“I know, which is why I want you walking with me. I wouldn’t want to risk hitting the pavement.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m going Beyond the Gates from now on, how’s that?”
“That’s acceptable. Garden?” It was a lovely place for thinking. And she’d left something for him there.
He offered her his arm. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”
“You know a person so inclined could take advantage of a comment like that, right?”
“Which is why I would only say it to one too wise to be so inclined,” he replied with a slight threat in his tone that didn’t match the teasing glint in his eyes.
“I thought as much,” she said, pretending to shrink back in fear.
He tugged her back to his side, and they walked on, Belinda covertly guiding until they neared the fountain at the center of the garden. A pillowcase-sized stack of books, their gilded titles mostly unreadable to Belinda with or without her reading spell, formed a colorful addition to the fountain’s base.
Belinda cleared her throat as Beast spun to stare at her. “I was afraid of acquiring a fine,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze, “so I thought I’d better return them. I find myself too lazy to diligently study all of these languages. I must admit I miss the lovely foreign accents you managed when you asked your rhetorical questions when I first came.”
“Thank you, Belinda,” he said with feeling. His gaze darted away from her, and he began speaking in a tired, sad voice, “You’ve deduced so much that I’m sure you—”
“Just don’t insult me in any language but our own,” she cut in hastily. “Rhetorical questions only, mind.”
“I’m not going to insult you in any language, Belinda,” he said firmly, a hint of scolding in his tone as he locked gazes with her.
Not for the first time in his and Lyndon’s presence, even Robert’s, Belinda felt as if she’d stepped into another realm, one of kindness too great for her.
“Lyndon and I go hunting today,” he said after a long moment, looking away to the fountain. He led her slowly around it and started back toward the castle.
“I’ll stay inside then,” she said quickly.
“You don’t wish to join us? Lyndon mentioned that you hunt. I would protect you.”
Yes, Gaspard and his uncle had taught her.
Gaspard who thought Beast was wearing a costume.
“Another time perhaps,” she answered absently. She’d had an epiphany, and her lips showed it.
Beast crouched to study her face. “Miss Lambton, that smile worries me.”
The smile brightened, as did her eyes. “Does it? Beasts have a much wider range of emotions than I thought possible. I assumed worry was a human phenomenon. But do go on. I know how to entertain myself now.”
Beast’s expression, when he left her in the library, was more than a trifle concerned.
There was no lady in the dreams that morning. That evening, after Beast told Belinda of the hunt and asked about her afternoon, she merely grinned with gleeful mischief.
“Wyjdziesz za mnie?” Beast asked as they parted for the night. Belinda smiled and wished him a goodnight.
The next day was much the same. In the morning, Beast asked his question, and Belinda smiled. After the dream, in which no lady appeared, Belinda cloistered herself away at her little desk in the library. Late that evening, however, she put away her quill with a confident finality.
“I’m back, Belinda,” Beast called through her door the next morning. “Are you awake yet? I wondered if you’d like to go for a run? I mean, I run and you ride Marigold.”
Belinda yanked the door open with such suddenness Beast started, and scowled at her. Easing his scowl into merely a raised eyebrow, he said drily, “I see you’re up.” He held out his arm as she joined him in the hallway. “In that case, good morning, Belinda. Willst du mich heiraten?”
Eyes bright and smiling merrily, Belinda shut the door behind her and slipped her arm though his. “Willst du mich heiraten, Beast?” Their arms linked, she bounced back against Beast when he didn’t move with her forward step. She glanced up at him. He was staring ahead in a wide-eyed daze. Laughing quietly, she tugged him forward, and he came, shaking his head and limping.
“You should be careful what you say in a foreign language, Belinda.”
She winked at him. “I know. Come. I have something for you, but it will wait until after our outing.” She eyed his leg, her brow furrowed. “If you’re up to it?”
He followed her gaze to his right leg as it gave slightly with each step. Seemingly rallying his wits, he straightened and set his jaw. “I’m up for it.” His walk regained its prowess and power.
Which he needed for the race. Belinda hadn’t always been a poor peasant. She’d lived long enough as a wealthy merchant’s daughter to learn to ride quality horses, and Marigold was quality.
“You know, if you’d practiced more, you might have won that lap.” Belinda cooled down Marigold by walking her in a circle around Beast, who’d chosen to collapse on the leaves.
“I am not … huff … walking on … huff … all fours as my … huff … normal form of … huff … perambulation.”
Belinda shrugged. “Don’t expect to win then. Not when I’m riding anyway.”
Beast snorted. “Next time, I’ll tackle you and … huff … then continue the race one on one with Marigold.”
“So you’re not above frightening the horse to help you win? That’s despicable.”
“That’s not—” Beast shook his head and gave up to laughter. When the laughter had eased, he pulled himself to his knees. “I’m glad you came, Belinda. Even if you’re a bit crazy.”
“Hey! I thought you said you wouldn’t insult me!”
“Who said that was an insult?”
“It certainly sounded like—”
A bright light flared above them, and Belinda gasped as Marigold shied. Beast leapt up and grabbed Marigold’s reins. Additional flares lit the air and were accompanied by hisses.
Belinda slid off Marigold and scooted closer to Beast as he watched the sky. “That’s not a meteor shower, is it?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Someone’s testing the magical boundary. With arrows, I think. I felt someone trying to get in earlier.” There was a smugness to his expression that eased the snarls in her stomach.
“Are you sure it’s not someone from your family trying to get your attention?”
“No, they know how to signal for entry, and I’d sense them.”
The tangles won out again. “You think it’s her?”
“Possibly. I’m going to the tower. You find Lyndon and tell him.” His eyes as he focused on her held more than his usual air of authority. “Don’t leave the grounds.”
He dropped to all fours and raced away before Belinda could protest the absurdity of her leaving the shield of Beast’s territory when someone was using arrows against it. Deciding to take Beast’s command as a sign of his care rather than a lack of confidence in her sense, she mounted Marigold. They followed after Beast at a slower gait.
Belinda paced with Lyndon in the library for an hour before they settled in
with books they tried in vain to read. Beast joined them just before dinner.
“Well?” she and Lyndon asked together.
Beast shrugged and settled into his chair with a longing look at the tray of tea and biscuits. Belinda poured him a cup of tea.
“I’d forgotten how close today’s village is to Marblue,” he said. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
Belinda narrowed her eyes at him to warn him against dissembling, but he gave her a toothy smile as he accepted the cup of tea and a biscuit. “You said you had something for me earlier, Belinda. Did I forfeit it by beating you back to the castle?”
“No, nor did you by losing the race.” She gathered a stack of handwritten papers from her desk and held it out to Beast as Lyndon looked on inquiringly.
“I didn’t realize you wrote,” Beast said around his biscuit as he put down his tea and accepted the stack with interest. His eyes took on that blue bird in a sky of clouds look as his brows rose. He stole a glance at her before continuing to scan the pages. “I can see,” he said as he straightened the stack, “that it’s dangerous to leave you unattended, Miss Lambton. Lyndon, from now on, you’re going to play chess with Miss Lambton, all day, every day.”
“I only do half shifts on chess, Master. You’ll have to take the afternoon one.” Lyndon smiled mildly, craning to catch a glimpse of the papers from his chair on the other side of Belinda. Beast handed them off to him.
“Or she could go Beyond the Gate with me. I suppose that was the intention,” Beast said with a significant look at her.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your quiet meditations in the forest.”
Beast huffed. “You may accompany me, if you wish, but if she shows up, you are to return to the castle without interacting with her. Understood?”
“I don’t want anything to do with her.” Belinda added in a mutter, “Unless it’s to bloody her nose.”
“Belinda …”
“I wouldn’t, don’t worry. I don’t agree with revenge. Besides, this is about avoiding her.”
“How so?”
“The Proposals of Pauline by Miss Belinda Lambton.” Lyndon cut off Belinda’s answer, reading aloud with amusement in his tone. “Miss Pauline Diggle was by no means an attractive young woman. She was, in point of fact, plain. Her nose was too large, her teeth crooked, and her eyes, while passing fair in their color, were lost to notice due to the mocking tendency of the half-circle under her eyes to take on a purple hue. It was this purple-ness under the eyes, her parents were certain, that kept their daughter a maiden at the ancient age of twenty. Consequently, when by strange good fortune they saved a fairy from a potentially devastating (to the fairy’s mind) entanglement with an ironwood tree, the grateful fairy granted them a wish, and they asked for her to help Pauline get married. And so it came to pass that Plain Pauline was blessed in such a way that every single man who met her felt inclined to propose to her, to the fright of the unsuspecting Pauline. Thus began the perilous adventures of Pauline Diggle.”
Lyndon chuckled as he slid the first page to the back. Beast, on the other hand, leaned his head on his hand and rubbed his forehead. Belinda’s face heated, but once again her answer was cut off by Lyndon.
“Let’s see,” he continued. “We have chases through the shrubbery, balcony climbs, desperate disguises, episodes of hiding behind drapes, and general chaos in the court when the unsuspecting Pauline goes to work as a maid at the palace. Even an international incident.” He gave a significant look at Beast. “And a pet bear at the palace who befriends the heroine. This is very clever, Miss Lambton, and possibly a solution to some of the, shall we say, undesirable acquaintances of ours?”
Beast glanced up, skepticism sharpening his expression. “How?”
“By hiding you and your predicament in plain sight,” Belinda said before Lyndon could cut her off. “I propose a series of plays based on Pauline’s adventures escaping proposals to be performed in each village. Now”—she held up her hand to forestall Beast’s objections—“you don’t have to perform. We can work together to make some of my ideas fit for public consumption—otherwise, food that should be consumed will end up on the players’ faces. You’ll hire troupes of players for each region the castle travels to, and you and I will go each day into town with a part of the troupe to advertise the traveling show. You’ll wear a sign—one that drapes over your chest and back—that says ‘Coming tonight The Proposals of Pauline’ and that has various relevant phrases, like ‘Daring Escapes,’ ‘Marry me!’ and ‘Will she ever say yes?’ on it. You won’t have to say anything. No one will bother to talk to you. There will be another actor or two with costumes made to match you for the actual shows. Gaspard thought you in costume. So will everyone else.”
“You’ll be guarded by a crowd, Master,” Lyndon said, “and with the sign no one will—that is no one will be afraid of you and take you for a mindless creature.”
“They don’t take me for one now,” Beast muttered, staring at the fire. He added quietly, “Just a fool human in a costume.”
“It’s just an idea in case your schedule gets figured out,” Belinda said. “I leave in little more than two weeks and want to know that you’ll be looked after when I’m not dreaming of you.” She paused, her heart thumping so loudly she feared Beast would hear. “Unless …”
“Unless you can think of another way to end that problem,” Lyndon said with meaning.
Beast’s head snapped up. “There is no other way. Not now.” He and Lyndon scowled at one another until Lyndon sighed and looked away. Beast gave Belinda a quick glance, refusing to meet her eye before turning to the fire, his paw clenching the chair arm.
Belinda rubbed her chest, where, if she were the kind of woman prone to suffer such afflictions, would be an ache. But Belinda was too tough and too sensible for such a thing. “Why don’t we go to the music room tonight? You can teach me that song you promised. I have little time left here. We should make the most of it.”
“And does the prince ever propose to Pauline?” Lyndon asked the next day with a sly smile as he, Beast, and Belinda completed their second play, the one where Pauline narrowly escapes the passionate proposals of the smitten Count de Dimwitty by taking a shortcut down the stairs and across the great hall by swinging from a chandelier lowered for cleaning. “She is working at the palace, after all.”
Fortunately, Belinda had prepared an answer to that inevitable question. “Naturally, you’d think that, but the fairy knew better than to include the prince among the susceptible,” she said quickly, focusing intently on the script.
Beast cleared his throat with a scathing look at Lyndon. “That’s right, Lyndon. Royalty are naturally immune to spells.”
“Curses in particular,” Lyndon said drily.
“Yes.” Beast took the pile of papers from Belinda, tapped them into a neat stack, and laid them on the table beside his chair. Firelight gleamed against a bit of tooth exposed by a half-smile. “This has proven entertaining,” he said after a moment, “even if I plan to never need the plays.”
“I’m glad it’s worth something,” Belinda said lightly as she rose stiffly from her desk and stretched.
“Personally, I was hoping for fame as a playwright.” Lyndon covered a yawn with his hand as he rose. “Good night. I’ll see you both in the morning.” He kissed Belinda on the cheek, patted Beast on the shoulder, then left.
Entreating Belinda to leave the mess on her desk for the morning, Beast took her arm and escorted her as usual to her room. Belinda steeled herself as they stopped before her door. He hadn’t asked her his usual question yet, and that unnerved her, though she couldn’t fathom why.
He took her hand as she released his arm. “I had a pleasant evening, Belinda. Good night and … shte se omŭzhish li za men?”
“Good night, Beast.” Smiling tightly, Belinda turned for the door, and found herself unable to reach it, her hand still held in Beast’s. She turned slowly back around. Beast watched her expect
antly, his eyes twinkling like blue fireflies. He twitched her hand gently, waiting.
Belinda swallowed. Curse the butterflies in her stomach and the ache in her chest.
“Shte se omŭzhish li za men?” she said quietly, and spun toward her door. “Good night, Beast.” But once again her hand didn’t follow. She turned reluctantly back to the light of Beast’s eyes. His toothy, teasing smile only frightened the butterflies into a gossamer knot.
“No, Belinda,” he said, stepping a little closer. “If you’re going to ask, you must say, ‘Shte se ozhenish li za men?’” He lifted her hand as if to kiss it, but gently squeezing it instead, he bowed and backed away. His eyes danced merrily as he released her. “Good night, Miss Lambton. Dream of me tomorrow.”
Her heart thumping foolishly, Belinda fled into her room and fell back against the closed door, her hand clenching the twisted, hideous knob. If that man weren’t already cursed, she’d …
Her throat tightened. She’d never have met him and would never have been permitted to speak with him.
She touched a hand to her burning cheek. Blast gray and pink. She’d not give in to either.
Chapter 14
The next few weeks passed quickly, and pleasantly Belinda told herself as she packed the yellow shawl into the small valise Beast insisted she take with her.
But they were a failure.
Beast was as stubborn as she, but while he had the right to keep his curse, she had no right to force its end. She smiled wanly as she drew a cloak over her shoulders. Her parting shot was in her pocket: Beast’s letter to his parents and a note from herself begging him to send the former to his parents. She’d give it to him in place of a goodbye. A knock sounded on the door, and she forced her thoughts to her father, which quickly yielded the happy smile she wanted as she reached for the door, where Beast waited.
