Beauty's Cursed Beast

by Mary E. Twomey

  Adam’s brows pulled together in dismay. “Yes, well, I came down to tell you that I won’t be joining you for dinner. Though it looks as though you’ve found enough company. I won’t be missed.” When he realized that his arms were still around her, he stepped back. “Excuse me.”

  “You came down to tell me you won’t be coming down?”

  Adam cleared his throat, his palms stinging to be placed back on the curve of her hips. “I would have sent you a note, but someone refused to deliver it,” he growled at Audra, who turned up her spout unapologetically. “So don’t go to all this trouble. I prefer to dine alone.” He motioned around the kitchen, his nose crinkling. “Did you clean?” He said the word “clean” with the same disdain one might reserve for the word “fart”.

  Belle refused to be deterred by his mood, which always seemed to be some shade of irritable. “Well, I already did go to the trouble. I can’t exactly eat two steaks. Tomorrow, I’ll remember that you eat alone. Tonight, let’s test out the dining room. If you think the kitchen is clean, wait until you see the table out there. You can actually eat off it. You’ll be amazed.”

  Adam frowned. “I don’t want you messing up my home.”

  “I unmessed it, actually.” Belle’s lightness slowly began to descend, her heels weighting to the floor. “Henry hired me to be your nurse and your housekeeper. Since you don’t have major depressive disorder with psychosis, you clearly don’t need a nurse as badly as he thought. So I threw myself into being your housekeeper. I’m not going to take a paycheck for doing nothing. That’s not me.”

  He motioned to her dress. “And you look different. I assume I have Simone to thank for that? She always tends to go a bit overboard.”

  It was the first dress Belle had worn since her kindergarten graduation. When she’d gotten dressed, she had hoped she looked beautiful in the green gown, but Adam’s comment came out flat, revealing her insecure underbelly. “Simone made it for me. I thought it looked nice, but maybe it’s too much.” When Adam didn’t correct her, she shrank, feeling foolish that she’d just accepted that she belonged in a nice frock, in a huge castle, eating steak like a rich person. Belle turned and switched off the stove so the potatoes didn’t boil over. “You’re right. I look ridiculous. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll go change.”

  Belle flitted out of the kitchen, her chin lowered.

  Lucien and Audra glowered at Adam, who shrugged as if he didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. “What? You’ve all never thought that Simone gets a little carried away every now and then?”

  They didn’t answer, but continued their irate glares. Chef Bouche responded by tossing Adam’s steak onto the floor, while Lucien stepped on it, never breaking eye contact.

  Adam rolled his eyes at their dramatics. “She’s the one who said she looked ridiculous. I didn’t say it.”

  Audra shook her head at him, disappointed. “It’s like you want her to hate you. She’s done nothing but her job, and you can’t say one nice thing. Saying nothing at all would’ve been better than that.”

  Adam clenched his fists at his sides. “I don’t think you all understand who the master of this house is. I don’t need your lectures. Where’s my normal food? I’m not eating that,” he said of the steak on the floor.

  The staff turned up their noses at him and exited without a word. When Adam moved further into the kitchen, Chef Bouche lit his stovetop flames up high so that they almost scorched the ceiling. “You didn’t clean the kitchen. You didn’t cook the food. You don’t even eat anything I make. This isn’t your space anymore. You’ve made that clear. We’ll do what we like with it, and you’ll say nothing about it. Belle has free reign of the kitchen. If she cooks for you, you’ll eat it, so help me. You’ve turned up your nose at my hard work, but I won’t see that sweet girl insulted like that.”

  Adam backed away from the flames that made the chef’s face in the backsplash seem to glow with an underworldly vehemence. “Fine! I didn’t do anything wrong, by the way. I didn’t ask her to clean or cook.”

  “You’ll eat what she cooks, or you’ll starve to death!” Chef Bouche threatened at a shout. When the flames finally died down, his tone returned to normal. “I forget. Did you prefer white wine or red?”

  Adam held up his hands. “Whatever you choose is fine.” He inched out of the kitchen, unsure when it was that he’d lost hold of his staff. They were talking back now, and telling him what to do. They’d given up on his behavior long ago, but now suddenly it seemed his redemption was worth fighting for.

  For the first time in too long, Adam thought about his deportment. Mirrors had long since been forbidden in the castle, but looking down, he finally started to notice how unkempt he’d let himself become. He turned around, finding Lucien in his path. “I’m wearing my pajamas.”

  Lucien folded his brass arms and cocked his hip to the side. “You are. Belle was wearing a dress, but now you’ve ruined that.”

  Adam’s hand moved over his chest and stomach in confusion. “It’s the middle of the day, and I’m wearing pajamas.”

  Lucien softened his frustration, seeing the new light dawning on Adam in slow motion. “You are. Dinner doesn’t start for another half an hour. Perhaps you would like to freshen up?”

  Adam looked down at his fingernails, and for the first time was repulsed at how overgrown they were. They had mutated into claws upon his transformation, but they were gnarled now, and curved slightly at the pointed tips. “That might be a good idea. Lucien, would you mind…”

  Lucien was never one to hold a grudge. Compassion lit his features as the flame atop his head danced with a bit more spirit. “I would be glad to assist you, Master.”

  8

  Waltzing Partner

  When Belle came back down to the kitchen to bring out the food to the dining room, the staff shooed her out. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’ve been working hard all day.” Audra took in Belle’s change of wardrobe back into her simple blue nursing scrubs with a compassionate tilt of her head.

  When Belle sat at the dining room table, she’d had no delusions that Adam would join her. She sighed, knowing it would be an uphill battle to get him off of dog food. She’d had many difficult patients before, but none she’d had to convince that dog food wasn’t a proper dietary option. Belle had brought a book down from her bedroom, anticipating the possibility of dining alone.

  Opening up the familiar worn cover brought about a measured beat to her breath that was almost trance-like. Though she’d read the tale of Michel Fourniret too many times to count, there was something about the elegance of the Poe-like language that soothed her. Even though the tale was dark and dreary, she knew the story so well that she felt like she could hide in the maple cupboards of the backdrop when the silver-tongued killer skulked by.

  When Audra brought out her dinner on the teacart, Belle forked the delicate greens, moved at how elegant the setup was. The fine china was eggshell colored with gold on the rims that broke off into swirls every few inches. There were dainty bluebirds painted on the lip of the plate that looked so cheerful, she half expected them to start chirping merry tunes at her. Audra poured Belle a cup of tea while the coatrack unfolded her napkin for her and laid it across her lap. Despite her shapeless scrubs, she felt like a refined lady at their pampering.

  “Thank you, Thomas.”

  “Anything for my favorite waltzing partner.”

  “I thought I was your favorite waltzing partner, Thomas,” Adam said from the doorway.

  Belle straightened at the sound of Adam’s voice, and met his eyes with confusion. His pajamas were gone. He looked freshly showered, dressed in khaki pants and a pressed lavender business attire shirt that had vertical blue pinstripes. The more animal aspects of him were still there, but he appeared less unkempt, and more like an upright man than a beast.

  Adam cleared his throat, suddenly aware that everyone was gawking at him. “6:30, right?” His gaze sharpened into a glare at Audra. “
I hate to think I came down here just to be stared at.”

  “I’ll get you some dinner, Master.” Audra hopped onto the teacart and zoomed into the kitchen to fetch him a salad.

  Belle felt vastly underdressed now, but refused to apologize for her scrubs. She was at work, after all, and this was her work uniform. Besides, it was because of his scrutiny that she’d changed out of the green gown in the first place.

  “I threw out your dog food,” she admitted, testing his temper to see if that would make him fly off the handle.

  “Chef Bouche mentioned something to that effect.” Adam sat down when Thomas moved over to him and tentatively pulled out his chair. “You should really ask me before you go throwing out my belongings.”

  Belle put her book down and leaned back in her seat, her eyes narrowed. “Are you a dog?”

  Adam didn’t answer, his mouth pulling in a tight line. He’d chased away the softness in her when he’d criticized her gown, and now he was left to deal with the strength he could see burning in her eyes.

  “If you’re not a dog, then I didn’t throw out your things. I threw out your dog’s things. And wouldn’t you know? Sultan didn’t seem to mind.”

  “You’ve got quite a mouth on you.”

  Belle flipped open her book and started reading again, refusing to be baited into a fight.

  After a few beats of silence, Adam spoke up. “What are you reading?”

  “A book,” she replied succinctly. “It’s about a big man with a bigger mouth and an even bigger ego who gets stabbed to death in the end by the help because he’s insufferable.” She covered her mouth in faux apology. “Oops! I just ruined the ending.” Then she waved her hand to excuse the slip-up. “Don’t worry. She makes him suffer for being a condescending butthead.”

  Adam scoffed. “Did you truly just call me a butthead?”

  Belle smirked at his affront as Audra came back out with his salad. “I think I did. I mean, if your head is acting like a butt, spewing crap out at random people who were otherwise having a nice day, that’s something worth noting to your doctor. Not your nurse, obviously, since you won’t let me examine you. Perhaps you’ll have better luck with your proctologist.”

  Adam gaped at Belle, and then barked out a laugh that startled even him. Audra jumped back, confused at the sound coming from the man. Lucien stood in the doorway, utterly perplexed and amused. Adam’s smile showed off his teeth, two of which had grown into fangs as he neared his permanent transition to a member of the Lupine. He rarely smiled, and couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed so loudly. “That was brilliant. Truly. I’ll try to remember to bring my A-game to dinner tomorrow.”

  Belle quirked her eyebrow at his compliance. “I was planning on serving breakfast at eight o’clock tomorrow. Do you think the stick up your butt might be dislodged by then, and you’d like to join me? Perhaps your proctologist makes house calls.”

  Adam chuckled further at her sass. “Eight o’clock is fine.” He swallowed hard, the levity dying on his lips as he eyed the salad and the fork. He hadn’t used a fork in a couple of years, and had never been all that enthralled by salads. He kept his eyes on his food and chose his words carefully. “Do you think you’ll have food for Sultan for breakfast? I don’t think he prefers salads. And he doesn’t usually eat at the table.”

  Belle reined in her tongue, looking across the long, polished table thoughtfully, considering his roundabout admission. “I think Sultan’s punished himself enough.”

  Adam kept his eyes on his food, and for all of his etiquette lessons as a boy, realized he’d completely forgotten how to properly hold a fork. His eyes climbed to Belle, so he could study her movements and mimic them as best he could. His grip on the utensil was more akin to a serial killer fisting his machete, but he managed to guide a few leaves into his mouth. His wrist faced the ceiling as the tomatoes dribbled off the fork and plopped on his lap.

  Adam growled in frustration, shooting a glare at Belle, who turned her focus back to her book. Her refusal to acknowledge his frustration gave him the space to work through the mechanics of eating upright. Every now and then, Belle would make a show of holding her fork properly, and bring a small bite to her unpainted, pink lips. After he mimicked her, she would take another bite, not making eye contact the entire time.

  Adam grew frustrated when the third dried cranberry fell onto the floor. “This is pointless! There’s no need for me to eat at a table. You and I both know I’m destined to become one of the Lupine. This is all frivolous!”

  Belle didn’t take the bait, knowing that if she looked at him, that would only give audience to his frustration. “If you’re okay with giving up, then give up. And here I thought you got to be the largest mortgage broker in Avondale because you’re a hard worker. Maybe it’s just because of who your parents were. There’s no shame in nepotism.”

  “You act like this is easy for me!”

  “I just said it was hard work. You’re the one who isn’t up for hard work. That’s fine. Should I send Audra to tuck you in? Read you a bedtime story? Bring you a blankie?”

  Adam growled at her and stabbed at his salad again, angling his head under the utensil when the food started to drop off. He caught a few leaves in his mouth, but could hardly count that as a victory. “There! Are you happy?”

  “I’m always happiest when I’m being yelled at,” Belle droned, and then her eyes cut to him in a glare. “You told me I looked ridiculous earlier. If you could also call me fat, I’d be ecstatic.”

  Adam’s upper lip curled, but he didn’t back down. Now it was a challenge he couldn’t back away from. He’d made his peace with being a monster long ago, but being lazy? That had never crossed his mind. Leaf by leaf, Adam worked his way through the entire salad, stomaching every boring bite that cost far more effort and pride than it was worth. “There! I had dinner with you. Are you satisfied now?”

  Belle quirked an eyebrow at him. “You call that dinner? That’s what we simple folk refer to as a salad.” When Audra came back out with their plates filled with steak, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, and baby carrots, Belle picked up her knife with a note of a challenge in her eyes. “I don’t care if you make a bigger mess than a toddler slurping down spaghetti. I care if you wuss out.”

  “Wuss out? Do you think living like this is easy for me?”

  Belle made a show of picking up her fork and knife, and daintily sawing off a chunk of meat before popping it in her mouth. Her eyes rolled skyward as she groaned. “I think this steak is worth being uncomfortable for.”

  Adam gave a few attempts and nearly stabbed his hand with the knife, finally cutting off a chunk that was far too large. “This isn’t worth it!”

  “Would you like some help?”

  “What I’d like is my regular food back!”

  “I’ll put that on the grocery list, right underneath the shiny new unicorn I was going to buy for myself.” She softened at his frustration. “If I cut your meat for you, will you show me how to get Sultan to calm down? He’s adorable, but the constant yipping is grating after the fifth straight hour.”

  “It’s because you’re too easy on him. He wants to play with you.” He sighed and threw his fork on the table. “But sure, I can show you where you can lock him if he becomes bothersome.”

  “Thank you.” Belle moved slowly as she stood, taking in Audra’s looks of caution and Lucien’s raised hands as a sign that this might not go over all that well. Instead of picking up his knife and fork, she stood behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his sides. She rested her hands atop his, maneuvering them to pick up the utensils, as if he was her puppet.

  “This is humiliating,” Adam complained as Belle directed his hands.

  “Audra? Lucien? Would you give us a moment?” She waited until they exited with wary expressions before she leaned in so she could whisper in his ear. “We’re alone now. I’m no one, so there’s no humiliation, because no one’s watching you.”

  Ad
am swallowed hard and allowed her gentleness to wash over him, covering his vulnerable spots with her softness. When she pressed her cheek to his temple, his heart quickened at the intimate touch. “What’s your Pulse, Belle?”

  “Getting grown men to let me feed them. What can I say? It’s a talent.” Her attempt at levity worked as they kept on cutting, his movements less resistant to her guidance. “It’s Discernment. If I put my Pulse into people, they have a clearer head when it comes to decision-making.”

  “And you’re a nurse? That seems like a wasted avenue for your gift. You could be working alongside King Hubert himself.”

  Belle chuckled. “I’m not sure the king is looking in the West Village for people to put on his staff. I was working at a hospital for a while. My Pulse helped the doctors and surgeons better care for their patients.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  Belle paused, and Adam could tell she was debating between the hard truth and the G-rated answer she doled out for acquaintances. Finally she gave in, letting the quiet of the dining room cover her confession. “They were…”

  But Adam never heard her true reason. Thomas came in to check on them, but was promptly pulled back out by Lucien.

  “It was just time to move on,” Belle amended. “How about you? Tell me about your Pulse.” Even though they were alone again, Belle’s moment of confession had come to an end, and she was eager to shift the focus. She already knew the answer to her question, but redirected the conversation anyway.

  “I can persuade people. Take away their inhibitions so they can act on their whims.”

  “Sounds like you missed your calling. You should’ve been a salesman. Or a pimp.”

  Adam laughed through his nose. “Most women pull away when they hear what I can do.”

  Belle finished sawing through the last piece of meat and then shifted the utensil in his grip, setting down the knife. “I know myself well enough. If you took away my inhibitions, it would only go badly for you. I called you a butthead with my filter firmly intact. Can you imagine the names you’d have to endure if you took away my manners?”