“Where did you learn to make croissants?”
“My mother. It was the first thing she taught me how to cook, because she said if I could make a good croissant then I could make anything.” She brushed a hair out of her face and he sniffed at it. “When I was little if I was ever sad, she would pull out the crock of butter and say, ‘Let’s make croissants.’”
“You were sad?”
She gave a quick laugh. “Oh no.” Resting her hand on his head she remembered. “Once a group of girls wouldn’t play with me because I could tell when they were lying.” She shook her head. “No, I was never really sad, though. My childhood was full of happiness everywhere I looked.”
“You were luckier than most.”
Helen turned to look at his hazel eyes, which stared unblinking at her. “Yes, I was.”
He sniffed, looking back toward the baking oven. “I think the oven is ready.”
Helen smiled. “Yes.” Hopping up, she went in to bake them.
Sometime later, Helen put a bite in her mouth as she heard Cook exclaim, “Well, and here I find you two ruining your dinner, nevermind that I slave all day to make enough food for the pair of you. And Your Grace, I don’t care who you are, I have warned you about coming in here with all that hair shedding about and – ”
Luke nudged Helen’s arm with his nose, and she choked back a giggle. “I beg your pardon, Cook, I’ll clean all this up, I promise, and I assure you I will eat anything you –”
Cook lowered her eyebrows. “You will do nothing of the sort, dear. Nate is more than capable of sweeping up His Grace’s leftovers. You might say we’ve become a bit expert at hmm, animal management. Now shoo, before I change my mind and make you scrub my floor. Shoo, now.”
Together they made their way out, Luke leading the way. Cook grabbed Helen’s arm, pulling her back to whisper in her ear. “Thank you.”
Helen met her eyes, confused.
“If you can make him that happy, you can bring him in here any time you like.” With a sniff, Cook turned to start dinner.
“What was that?” Luke had turned back.
“I,” Helen stuttered, “nothing.”
He stood close, blocking her path. “It was not ‘nothing’, dear heart. You have given me a memory I will cherish.” He carefully touched the tip of his nose to hers, then turned to lumber back down the hallway.
***
Dinner was quiet as Helen turned over his comment in her head, wondering about Luke, why his curse remained unbroken, and what his endearment meant.
“What did the latest letter from your family say?”
Setting aside her thoughts, she looked up from her meal to the beast at her right. “They are all well and happy.” She stopped, afraid to tell him how they begged her to come home.
“You should invite them to visit.”
Her heart leapt as it fell. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“No. They must want to see you.”
She looked back at her plate, ignoring the fleeting way he licked his plate when he thought she wasn’t looking. “They do, desperately and I had not thought of a way to tell them how…that I….”
“I had wondered when you would leave, but since you did not, I think it best to bring them to you.”
“I cannot leave. This place…I cannot…”
He forced her gaze, his expression serious, even for a cat. “Helen, I do not expect you to stay forever.”
She sat forward. “But I cannot leave. I don’t know how to explain this, Luke, but it has become my home and I must stay.”
“You feel obligated because I did not treat you as the evil man did. But there is no obligation between friends, Helen.”
“I know that, but I will not leave you, Luke.” Her smile was distant. “It is more than just feeling safe. I feel as though I’m bound here, as if there is a magic working in me that has threaded itself between you and I. And if I leave, it will break and, oh don’t you see it?” She was panicked now, her hands shaking, and his tail stilled.
“Of course I see it, dear heart. But I will not accept such an end for you. Someday you will have to leave. Wait.” He put a paw on the table, making their utensils jump as he halted her protest. “For now, we will leave things as they are.”
Helen said nothing, turning to pick up her fork once more as she tried to remember how to use it.
“When would you like them to come?”
She took a breath and moved to the safer topic. “I will invite them in my next letter if that is alright with you.”
“Of course. Tell me more about your family.”
Memories came bursting out as anticipation lit up her face. Soon she was telling Luke of how Paul would come to like him first, how Jack would beg her to sing and how her father would need all of his buttons replaced on his jacket.
My dear family,
I have wonderful news. I am instructed to invite you for a visit, and to tell you that you may stay as long as you’d like. I hope it is for a good while so we can remind each other of ourselves while learning what we have missed. Jack, I promise to cook whatever you like, although you will have to bring some of mother’s recipes, for I’ve forgotten many of them.
I will look for your reply and your company soon.
With love and much anticipation,
Helen
Dear Helen,
Pa immediately asked me to arrange for an extended stay from work so that we can come to visit you.
Jack has an abundance of ridiculous inventions to show you, and I have packed all of Mama’s recipes.
We have so much to tell you, but I wanted to hurry and send this so you know we will see you in just two short weeks.
Sending love right back to you,
Paul
PS. I am not to tell you that Papa cries every time he talks about seeing you.
The reunion
“You look stunning.”
“Thank you – it is all due to Susan and Stella’s abilities, I’m sure.”
“No, you are truly beautiful.” He tilted his head in that cat like way of his. “I think Cook’s excellent food is starting to make you look human again rather than the wraith you came to us as.”
Truth. Her face reddened and she looked down saying nothing.
“What is the matter?”
“Do ‘knacks’ work on you?”
He leaned back at the unexpected question. “You mean from your stories.”
“They are real. They are abilities that people are born with.” When he said nothing, she continued. “My brother Jack can tell what the weather is going to be. My father’s inventions will always work. I can tell when someone is lying. But either no one is lying in your castle or my knack doesn’t work here.”
“We have been here so long; I do not think anyone would bother with lying.”
“And you?”
“I do not know anything of these abilities. Do you believe you are not beautiful?”
“I know I’m not. Several times when I was at Manwaring’s house, it was made clear that I am quite plain, and I felt the truth each time quite clearly. I cannot understand why my knack didn’t tell me you were lying, but mostly I cannot understand why you would say something like that to me.”
“It is the truth.”
She frowned.
“Come with me.”
She followed him to a room at the end of the left wing on the ground floor. She sniffed at the dust that was prolific, wondering why this room wasn’t as fastidiously cleaned as her own, then stared wide-eyed at the rows of portraits. On the left were obviously ancestral portraits aging with both fashion and appearance. On the right were rows of women, all done by the same artist and in the same position, with hands clasped in front of them and no expression. Their looks varied so much that it was clear they were unrelated.
“I don’t understand, who are these women?”
“They are my past guests, and in some cases my past attempts to break the curse.”
“All of these women have been here?”
“Yes. And nearly all of them have seen me as I am.”
“They slept in my room and had breakfast with you and walked the gardens and…” She found herself disturbed by this, as if her privacy had been violated.
“Some of them, yes. Seraphina and Anastasia and others we have talked of.”
“And none of them broke your curse. Out of…”
“Sixty-seven.”
“Sixty-seven women!”
“I want to show you a specific portrait.” She followed him to the end of the hall stopping at the last picture. The woman was young, perhaps eighteen or twenty. Her hair was a glorious honey color with streaks of red and her dark eyes conveyed an intelligence and emotion beyond her supposed years.
“She is lovely. Is this Genevieve?”
He growled. “No.” His silence was cold. “Why did you think that?”
“The servants mentioned her in passing once or twice…I’m afraid I have been very rude, for I assumed all sorts of things about her. Including that you were in love with her.”
His nostrils flared. “This is your portrait.”
“What?” Shocked, she looked back at it. “Honey and jam.” She whispered, “Your artist is biased.” She looked again at the eyes – she had thought them brown, but on closer inspection they did look more of a deep blue. And her chin was familiar now that she saw it closer; just like her mother’s.
“There is no artist. You are being rendered exactly as you are. I brought you here to see how beautiful you are, even in the hands of an unbiased curse.”
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head.
“I find a portrait of each woman who comes to the castle hung in this gallery. Once she leaves, I may stand in front of the portrait and all of my memories with her will come back to me, each in gloriously depressing detail.”
She looked at him, her eyes round. “Do you stare at them often?”
“No. I almost never come here now.” He turned to leave and she willingly followed him, closing the door on this mausoleum.
“I…”
He turned to look at her. “Do you now believe I will never lie to you?”
“Yes.” He turned to pad away and she caught up to him. “But do you trust me as well?”
“I do not believe a person’s word. Not anymore.”
“But…”
He stopped to face her once more, his massive face a little too close. “I already assume the best of you, Helen, but you are human, and it seems the very definition of humanity to apply deceit, especially to yourself.”
She stood there watching his gigantic body take massive strides as he walked away. “And do you count yourself as human?” She waited, her face hot, now regretting she had said it out loud.
He never broke his stride as he replied, “I am my own harshest example of this folly.”
***
Luke found Helen pacing in the front hallway, her face strained. “You have never been this discomposed before.”
She stopped, hot from her pace, her nerves jangled. “My emotions are wrung dry, Luke. I realized I may not even recognize Jack, and…” She took a breath, overcome with emotion. Luke came behind her, resting his nose on her shoulder, and she turned to hug him, surprised at her own reaction. “Luke, I’m scared. I don’t know why, and I know I have no reason to be, but…”
“It will be alright.” His low voice purred as he calmed her. “I must go. I cannot be here to greet them. I think it is for the best.”
Surprised, she let go and stepped back. “But…I had thought…no, you’re right.” She shook her head. “But…maybe after a little time. After all, my knack still works, and surely they would still trust that?”
The beast shook his mighty head. “I will not show myself, Helen.”
She had started to protest when Stella burst into the room. “They’re coming! They’re coming!”
Susan had come too, her face white as Helen realized what an odd experience this must be for them. They waited in a tense line of expectation until there was a knock at the door. Nate immediately opened it and bowed, providing entrance.
Paul entered first, his brown hair carefully combed, his suit well made without being expensive. Jack followed afterwards with a “Well, where is she?” as he loped through the doorway searching for his sister. Finally her father entered, his face crossed with wrinkles, his hair nearly white, his shoulders burdened with age.
“Helen!” Jack saw her first and came dashing over to pick her up and twirl her around with the strength of his sixteen years. Paul stood by with a grin, then hugged her tight, pulling back to look at her. Her father held her for a long time while tears wet both their shoulders.
When Helen finally looked up, the questions came thick and fast. Laughing, she held up a hand.
“There is plenty of time for questions. Come in for dinner and we will spend the evening playing catch up. And when we’re too tired to talk any more, we’ll go to bed and start again tomorrow.” They looped arms and walked into dinner together, talking about little things to hold back the flood of emotion.
A tender roast brought a fresh batch of smiles, and conversation shifted and jumped as they accustomed themselves to the happy situation they now found themselves in. Helen found herself looking over for Luke’s reaction, but as promised, he had absented himself.
“Now Helen, where is your host you’ve written so much about? I am eager to thank him for his help.” Her father sat back, his hands folded across his now full stomach.
Helen cleared her throat. “He has made himself absent this evening to allow us some time to become reacquainted.”
Paul looked at her hard. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”
Helen shook her head. “I forgot how well you do that.” Setting down her fork, she took a breath. “I have not told you some things about him because I did not want you to judge him on that alone.”
Her father reached a hand out to hers. “How could we judge a man when he has saved my beloved daughter? You look so well, Helen, it is hard to believe,” he choked up, tears coming once more. “You were gone. It is hard to believe you are back.”
Helen laid a hand on her father’s arm. “But I am, and all is well. And you must all promise me that no matter what I tell you of my time in Manwaring’s home, that you will not let it haunt you. I am well and better and happy and all is as it should be.”
“Of course, Helen, what fun would that be, moaning about?”
Everyone laughed at Jack while chocolate mousse was served for dessert.
It was only when she had brought them to see the library and they had settled in front of the fire to talk, that Paul brought up Luke once more.
“Come Helen, tell us his secret and we will love him the more for being as human as the rest of us.”
Helen blushed at the awkward comment. “He has become my dearest friend, and I…before I tell you, I must remind you that I can tell he is speaking the truth. In fact, he has told me nothing but the truth since I arrived.”
“But why did you even come here? How did you get away from Manwaring?” Jack’s question seemed a better place to start, and so she did, explaining how she had no choice and how he had promised a monster who would eat her. She looked about waiting for reactions.
Jack laughed. “Oh come on, HoneyJam, how could there really be a monster? And in a place such as this?” Her father smiled with him, but Paul’s face remained serious as he watched her.
Helen finally spoke. “The best way to tell you of Luke is to tell you a story.”
Jack smiled. “You always did tell the best stories.”
Helen’s smile was faint. “You may not like this one.” With a deep breath she began. “Once upon a time there was a man who offended a witch. She was so angry that she cursed him into a great beast. Doomed to immortality as a monster, this beast spent a great many years searching for someone to break his curse, but more
than that, someone who would see him for his humanity and not the animal he seemed to be.”
Her father’s face had gone white. “By the Grey Mountains, Helen, you don’t mean…”
She nodded. “I do. He looks mostly like a very great cat or perhaps a lion, and is very...imposing. But as I’ve said, he has become my dearest friend, and I am certain he would never hurt me or anyone else.”
“Helen, you cannot be serious.” Paul looked at her father then back at her, reading more than she wanted him to in her expression. “We thought we would be bringing you home with us when we left.”
Helen sighed. “I cannot.”
Protests came so fast and grew to such a pitch, that Helen stood, angry tears threatening to spill. “Stop it. Stop it all of you.”
There was an immediate silence, even from Jack as they all stared at her, the emotion thick and heavy.
Helen took a breath, letting it out as she looked at her father. She reached for his hand, which he freely gave and began to explain. “My life with Manwaring was more horrible than I can bear to tell you. It was a torture that will haunt me to my dying day. When I came here I was broken and left for dead. Luke saved my life and each day has helped to put me back together. Slowly I began to walk again, to –”
“You couldn’t walk?” Her father’s look of horror reminded her to be careful with the details.
“I was very weak.” She held her breath, but Paul reached out, pushing aside her hair to see her neck.
“Holy dragon dung, Helen.” Jack’s comment drew no laughs this time, their eyes all streaked with horror at the scars that would always bear a story.
She met her father’s eyes once more, and this time it was his that were filled with tears as she continued. “Slowly I began to walk, to heal and to become myself again. He saved my life, but he has done more than that; he has become my friend and my protector.”
Their awkward circle closed in as they leaned forward to share these hard memories. “I feel my life is now woven with his. In fact, it has been for some time.” This time with a smile, she told her family of the broken Clearwater machine, of Sir Paxton and his lady love, of Luke and how Manwaring had so fortunately deceived him. It was late when she finished and sent them to bed with promises for the morrow.
The Unbreakable Curse: A Beauty & the Beast Retelling Page 9
