Enchanted Beauty

by Marly Mathews

  “Saints preserve me.” Annabelle looked to the heavens, making a fervent silent prayer.

  “Our saints might not be able to help you once you step into the Beast’s lair. He is a monstrosity of nature.”

  “Thank you so much for making me feel at ease.”

  “That’s what I am here for,” Glynnis sighed. “I can’t go any further. If I do, I’ll be breaching the warning that was in that bloody letter. May you be blessed with good fortune this night, Annabelle. I’ll wait here until you return with Delbert.”

  “You mean Uncle Delbert.”

  Glynnis tried to smother the sigh that welled inside of her, but Annabelle heard it nonetheless.

  “I’m beginning to think Lord Markham wasn’t off his mark when he said you and father had something of the romantic nature going on. He referred to Da as being your husband. You wouldn’t have been acting amorously toward each other, would you?”

  Glynnis grunted. “Of course not. What do you take me for?”

  “I take you for a woman with eyes…Da isn’t past his prime yet, and he does have a thing for the ladies that he thinks need a champion. Mother never could quite fulfill that part of him…but you…” she laughed. “You know what, I don’t want to know right now. I’ll iron out all of the details, once I save my father’s sorry ass from the fire that is gradually closing in on him.”

  “Capitol idea. I knew you’d see sense.”

  “But Glynnis, when I return, I’d like you to give it to me straight about Da. I want to know everything.”

  “Well, you won’t want to know everything, but I’ll tell you what you need to know.” Glynnis smiled. She tapped her hand, and then pointed in the direction of the castle. “Off you go, go and do what no one else ever seems to be able to do. Go and rescue that rascal of a father that you have.”

  “Rascal, indeed. Why couldn’t I have gotten a predictable boring father like so many of my friends had when we were growing up?” Annabelle lamented.

  “Your father at least makes life interesting,” Glynnis mused.

  “Interesting? He makes it into a frigging game of chance. I never know what type of condition he’s going to come home in, or if he’s going to come home at all.”

  “I’m sorry, Annabelle. I never dreamt you were so heartsick about him.”

  “Heartsick? I don’t know if I’d say I get heartsick about him. His reckless ways caused my mother to fall ill and die. So, I don’t know…I think she died with a broken heart. Knowing that no matter how hard she tried to build a stable life for us, he’d always wreck it with his wild ways. In some ways, I despise him for what he’s put us through…and in other ways, I understand why he does it.”

  “You do?”

  “Aye. Sometimes, I fear the same sort of reckless abandon runs through my own blood. And it frightens me beyond belief. I constantly crave something more…anything. But I am trapped in a prison of my own making. Had I not been so gung ho to use spells I knew nothing about, I would not be standing here with only half my sight. I have brought my own doom to my door. I can only hope that one day, I will be granted a second chance. And that day while it excites me, it also makes me cry out with trepidation. For what will I become if I’m finally able to follow the restlessness that boils in the very fiber of my being? Will I self-destruct, or will I find the freedom I’ve always secretly wanted?”

  “I can’t answer that question for you, Annabelle. Only you know the answer. But if your feelings of reckless abandon makes you bold. It makes you strong. You are a fighter, Annabelle. That’s why I know you won’t leave that castle unless your father is walking alongside you.”

  Sighing, Annabelle leaned on her staff, squinted her eyes in the waning twilight, held the torch she carried in her left hand aloft, and walked the lonely trail to the lair of the beast.

  *****

  Malachi Hawthorne, Earl of Markham sped through his castle, toward the room that housed his mystical possessions. He made his way into the room, and called out, “Lights!” Instantly, the room was basked in a soft glow of light.

  “We have a visitor, you know.” He looked to the mirror that housed the trapped spirit of one of his ancestors. His family had been cursed time and time again. Some of the curses had been broken over time, and some of his family was still walking the path of the lost ones.

  “I know. Who is it this time? It better bloody well not be that little pudding of a woman,” Malachi growled.

  “No…it isn’t. This woman is fair of face, true of heart, and…”

  “And, what?”

  “She is losing her sight. A magical enchantment has stolen most of it from her, and within the year, all she will ever see is darkness.”

  A lump formed in his throat. He felt pity for her. She faced an invisible adversary, much like he faced.

  “She will need to be drugged and sent back down to the village,” Malachi grunted, turning toward the potions he used to knock out the strangers that dared to go past the point of no return. Why couldn’t the people of the outlying villages just realize that he wanted to live his life in peace?

  Was that truly too much to wish for?

  “My Lord, I suggest you do something far different with the fair maiden.”

  “What then, would you suggest?”

  “I merely suggest that perhaps you should keep the woman. You are lonely…and there is nothing better for a lonely heart then a woman to bring life and passion back into it.”

  “I am not lonely,” Malachi grumbled.

  “Oh, but you are. You shun other society because you do not want people to see what the battle with Blackburn did to you. You distance yourself from thinking about your defeat at the hands of that asshole because of the duplicity your sister showed to you during the battle… she was the one that put you in this living hell you exist in…and you also know that only a woman can bring you out of the hell you live in. A woman cursed you. So a woman must set you free.”

  “Enough! Since you seem to be so wise in the ways of evil curses, why are you still stuck in that damn mirror?” Malachi demanded.

  “I do not know. Sometimes life is a mystery.” He looked at the man’s image that reflected back at him in the mirror. He looked a lot like Malachi, only slightly older, with a few more wrinkles, and his hair was black, whereas Malachi’s was reddish blond. “What I do know is that you are like any other man in the Hawthorne line. You crave the company of a female, you want someone to share your bed, and share your life. If you do not want to leave the castle to find this match, then you must take what the Fates gives you. Look, they are delivering this fair maiden right to you on your doorstep, for heaven’s sake.

  Take her, and be happy for it. You will also be happy to know that she too hails from the mystical Hawthorne line. The two of are far too distantly related to worry about producing addled offspring, but she will bring new hope back into the Hawthorne Legacy, she and you will make sure the Hawthorne Legacy grows another branch on the family tree. You must do this. It is your responsibility. It is your duty as the last direct descendant of Gabriel Hawthorne.”

  “I can’t take her.”

  “Oh, but I beg to differ.”

  Malachi stared at the ancient tapestries that lined the wall behind the mirror, and then his eyes rested on the swords, bows, crossbows, shields and spears that lined his far wall. Armor and ancient crystal balls along with other magical weapons adorned the same wall.

  “I should scare her witless, and then tell her that I have plans for her father.”

  “Enslaving her father so that he can pay atonement will not really benefit you. You can use the magic that enchants this castle to answer your every need and whim. But you can’t conjure yourself up a real woman. Maybe you could conjure up one to answer your most carnal desires for a few hours, but you certainly can’t create one that will stay with you for your lifetime.”

  Malachi sighed. “I do not wish to listen to you any longer. I will go down and deal with this woman in my
own way.”

  He walked toward the door. “Wait,” the magic mirror called. “You must know the rest of the women’s history. She is not only just the daughter of the man you have thrown into the dungeons, but she is also his only child. They are very close. The trouble is, she is much more cunning than her father.”

  Malachi stopped, turned around and retraced his steps back to the mirror.

  “Come again?” He rested his finger to his temple. A major headache loomed on the horizon.

  “You heard me the first time. I said, she is the only child of the man you intend to make into a servant.”

  “That bloody beggar deserves it. He tried to steal family heirlooms from me. Not only that, but he trespassed onto my lands! Thinking of his misdeeds just riles me up into a most foul temper.”

  “Do you know what you need?”

  “So, clever one. What pray tell do you think I need?”

  “You need the gentle company of a lovely lady. I think it will do wonders for your character.”

  “You still want to think in fairytale terms. Well, unless you haven’t noticed I still have to figure out how to counteract the spell that has been cast upon me. I must be able to venture back into Blackburn’s country. I must have my vengeance. I will not let what was done to me and mine go without having my vengeance. I want to obliterate Blackburn and the rest of his legions of followers. I want to wipe his kind from our world. I will have my revenge, mark my words.” His seething anger reeked through his words causing the man in the mirror to frown.

  “Though, vengeance will come to you, you are not ready yet to face Blackburn. If you do, you will lose what is left of your life. Besides, I feel that you will never again face Blackburn, but I have been mistaken before. In the meantime, why don’t you enjoy a little bit of pleasure? You’ve definitely earned it. And, if and when the time comes for you to meet Blackburn again in battle, you will find that she has given you the strength and durability of character to face him and win.”

  “Sometimes, you can be quite the pest. I have the most burning urge to cover your mirror with a sheet so that I will not have to listen to you prattle on endlessly about my future! It is a dark one, that is all we both need to know,” Malachi said, sighing mournfully.

  “Not if you take the opportunity that is right in front in of you. Trust me, she will be blind to your faults, physical, or personality wise.”

  He bowed to the mirror. “As always your witty humour has me in a fit of amusement.”

  “Mark my words, Malachi. If you do turn this woman away it will be the worst mistake of your life.”

  “The worst mistake of my life came when I let my sister back into my confidence. Believing that she had separated herself from those that had tried to corrupt her. And what sort of payment did I get in return? Look at me! I’m an abomination. I can’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror. No woman in her right mind would want to get within two feet of me. I do not wish to frighten her senseless.

  Even if her sight is flawed, she will see the monstrosity that is I. I will never be fit for a woman. Not now. Only a saint would be able to open her heart to me. And I don’t see any saints waiting in the wings. I will turn her away, and if she shows true love and concern for her father, I will her grant her one boon. I will give her father back to her. As you say, she no doubt needs him more than I need him. I can take care of myself. She, on the other hand, no doubt requires a protector. I will not begrudge her of her champion. Leave it be, and let me deal with this matter on my own.”

  “Well, when you work alone, things don’t exactly go smoothly.”

  Grumbling, he barreled out of the room, and made his way toward the woman that had invaded his inner sanctum. He would show her what sort of welcome trespassers received from the lord of the castle.

  Chapter Three

  Annabelle’s walking was laboured. Her sight had become even worse in the few minutes since she had left Glynnis. Fear crept into her heart. She didn’t like the dark, and though she secretly knew her vision was getting worse day by day, she had railed against it, hoping against all hope that she would be able to keep what sight she had. But it was not to be.

  Soon, she would be draped in darkness. The shadowy veil would encompass her life, and she would be left alone, in her own world, cut off from all that she knew. All that she felt comforted by. She hated the unknown. It gave her the chills of nightmares.

  “Who goes there?”

  She nearly screamed aloud at the strong voice. It enveloped her, surrounded her in its warm velvety caress. A shiver went up and down her spine. Her walking staff hit a rut in the road and she stumbled, expecting to hit the ground, but something caught her in mid-fall.

  The strangest sensations rippled through her. She felt exhilarated and frightened at the same time. Sheer longing groped at her. She wanted to melt into this man’s arms. She wanted to stay close to him forever. Shaking her head, she tried to jolt some good sense into her. She had become fanciful. She was here on a mission…and the sooner she accomplished that mission, the sooner she’d be able to return to her cottage.

  “My name is Annabelle Hawthorne.” She didn’t know why she hadn’t given him her father’s surname of Morton, she only knew that she couldn’t get her mother’s family name out of her head. She’d been discovered by Lord Markham—known to some as the Beast.

  “Hawthorne, is it? I daresay, I could make it Hawthorne for the rest of your life, if you stay with me,” the Beast promised.

  She shuddered in his arms. He stiffened. Why had he said such a ludicrous thing? She had used her mother’s family name without even realizing that he too, shared the Hawthorne name. They couldn’t be descended from the same line, or could they?

  “I don’t know what you’re implying, sire.”

  “Sire?” he laughed. “My lord, will do quite nicely, or better yet, Malachi. I haven’t heard anyone speak my name for many moons.”

  “You are distracting me from my mission. I must insist that you release my father into my custody. And, I must also insist that you release me, your lordship.”

  “I shall not.” He tightened his hold on her. “You are in no shape to traipse around my lands. You shall hurt yourself, and then, where will you be?”

  Annabelle squinted, trying to make out his features in the dark night. With her poor sight and the dark night they were having with only a sliver of a moon, glowing in the sky, made it quite impossible to see anything more but a hazy outline of a man’s face. But she didn’t need to see him. He had the most handsome voice that she had ever heard. The sound of it, affected her very soul.

  “However,” he continued. “I am ever ready to appease such a beautiful woman, as you. I shall be more than happy to release your father on one condition.”

  A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She unconsciously started to clench and unclench her hands.

  Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. She knew his condition, wouldn’t be one she’d like. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t leave her father here to rot in his dungeons, could she? He seemed to like her—yet, she had the distinct feeling that he cared more for the flowers in his gardens then he cared for her father’s well-being. She’d already lost one parent to a terrible illness brought on by poor living conditions—she couldn’t sentence her father to the same fate—no matter how much she was tempted. She was better than that.

  “Name your condition,” Annabelle said.

  “You shall stay in his place.”

  She pushed away from him, and then fell back into his arms when her ankle twisted, sending the most excruciating pain arcing up her leg. She gasped against the intensity of it.

  “I am at your mercy.” Her heart fell. She’d sealed her fate—there was no turning back. She could only go forward, and pray that somehow, she would be able to survive.

  *****

  Malachi didn’t know why he’d suddenly had a swift change of heart. All he knew as soon as he saw her in flesh and blood was
that he had to have her. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other woman.

  Annabelle could be the one.

  She could be the one to save him from himself. She would be the beauty to his beast.

  “Mercy? I am no monster for you to live in fear of, Annabelle.” He looked to her walking staff. “You won’t need to use that, I will guide you back to the castle.”

  He could feel her shivering in his arms. Without giving it a second thought, he whisked off his cloak and draped it around her shoulders. She stiffened beneath it, but she didn’t try to pull away from him.

  Annabelle knew that there was no escape for her. She’d gone too far, and she’d given him her verbal consent. Her word was binding, no matter what she had to say to the contrary. He had full power over her. She wouldn’t flee from him. Even if she could see the way off his lands, she had to stay in order to secure her father’s release.

  “Take me to my father, then. I’d like to see him. I want to make sure that you haven’t hurt him—or turned him into something hideous.”

  “Hideous? There’s far worse out in this brutal world of ours than anything I could have the heart to subject anyone to. Trust me, my beauty, I’ve endured it and survived it. I would never ever wish what I’ve gone through on my worst enemy. Well, strike that—perhaps, I would wish it on my worst enemy.” He gave a cynical laugh.

  She shivered again. He could smell her fear. Annabelle was torn between trusting him, and cringing in terror in front of him. Could he blame her? He was a formidable man. He could have done far worse to her father, and yet, he hadn’t. No matter what his sister and Oliver had done to him, they hadn’t been able to rob him of his heart.

  And, if he wasn’t careful, his heart could end up betraying him again. He was already falling headlong for Annabelle. Her beauty was the sort bards would sing ballads about. She should have been the envy of most of the nobly born women in Thaliana, and yet here she was trying to barter the freedom of a man that wasn’t fit to be in her presence, yet alone, fit enough to be her father.