by MJ Haag
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not that.” She looked down at her hands. “We are part of the reason the master was cursed.” She sighed and uncomfortably looked around the room. “As a child he was a handsome handful, I was told. His teachers and nurses spoiled him as his parents ran the estate. His father passed away before the master’s fifth birthday. His mother took over the estate responsibilities until he turned sixteen. I came to the estate before his fifteenth year.”
I motioned for her to sit, and she did.
“As maids, we were told by the butler to give the master anything he wanted.” She met my eyes steadily. “The older ones introduced him to women for his birthday. After that, all he needed to do was crook a finger. We all ran to please him, instilling in him an attitude toward women that caused many so much grief later.”
She looked down at the table. “After the last time he was with me, he carried me to Rose. He knelt beside me and begged my forgiveness as she began to clean me. I told him there was nothing to forgive. I didn’t blame him. I could have run. I could have solidified; he couldn’t truly hurt me in that state. But I hadn’t run. I’d stayed because, when he’d come for me, part of me had burst with excitement that someone like him would want me again. How could I expect him to value me when I valued myself so little?
“We all needed to learn what you had to teach us, and now we want to thank you and to beg your forgiveness for everything you suffered.”
I listened to her tale with a heavy heart, seeing the beast in my mind.
“Egrit, his rough use of you, whether with your consent or not, was unspeakably horrible. You cannot forgive him. Your forgiveness is only for you. Your hate and pain are released with it, healing you, not him.” She nodded slowly, a new light of understanding in her eyes. “And you can’t take the blame for the choices he made, absolving him of all responsibility. That’s what caused the curse. Hold him responsible. If you truly do feel no hardship toward him, give him the chance to make amends. Don’t be easy on him.” Only after I finished speaking did I realize the beast I knew, the one I spoke of, no longer existed.
Egrit smiled widely and stood.
“I have other errands to run. Do you know the name of the best dressmaker?”
Though I remained angry with my sister, I still wanted her happy. So, I gave her name. Egrit’s smile changed slightly, but she nodded and took her leave.
* * * *
Less than a week later, another knock sounded at the door. The man who stood outside looked slightly familiar, yet I could not place his name. He noticed my uncertainty and gave me a genuine smile.
“Egrit mentioned speaking to you. I wanted to stop and give my thanks as well.”
He continued to grin at me. Could this be Egrit’s man?
“Do I know you?”
“Swiftly, at your service.” He bowed slightly, keeping his eyes on me.
I grinned and did the unexpected. Pulling him into a quick hug, I brushed his cheek with a kiss.
“I owe you my thanks for all the times you carried me to and fro and kept me out of the baker’s hands.”
His smile faded.
“Except the last time.”
Suddenly, I placed why he seemed familiar. He had been the one to help me into the carriage and drive me to my father’s home.
“Don’t fret, Swiftly. The odious man’s own fat saved me from the worst of his eager attentions.”
“He no longer dwells in Konrall,” Swiftly said of the baker. “His mother and sister have taken him south.”
“That is good for Konrall.”
Over Swiftly’s shoulder, I caught the unexpected sight of a man turning toward our house.
“Henick,” I said with surprised delight.
“Excuse me, madam,” Swiftly mumbled.
With a bow, he quickly left. I thought to call him back, but Henick claimed my attention with a friendly wave. Henick nodded to Swiftly as they passed each other.
“Benella, I heard about the baker and wanted to tell you how sorry I am for it. And I wanted to remind you I am still here, hoping for your consideration...as are my younger brothers.”
His words touched my heart.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said with a kind smile, “but I’m not sure I’m still suitable for marriage.”
“Don’t,” he said. “Your worth has not diminished because of a man’s crime against you. Don’t ever believe otherwise.”
“I swear to you, I do not devalue myself. I only meant, I cannot submit to marriage as I once thought I could. Certain aspects would be infinitely distasteful to me.”
Understanding lit his features, and a blush stole across his face.
“What if a husband promised not to touch you until you thought his touch no longer distasteful?”
“Henick...” I struggled with the words to explain myself. “When I see you, I feel light and happy because you are one of the kindest people I know. When you marry, it will be to someone who carries sunshine in her hair and rainbows in her eyes just for you. Anything less wouldn’t be good enough.” I glanced at the floor for a moment. He waited patiently.
“The clouds of my life have planted seeds of bitterness in me. I find myself looking at people with,” my voice dropped to a whisper, “hate. It’s burning me slowly from the inside, eating at me, and stealing the color from my life.” I met his gaze and took his hands in both of mine.
“Do you see why I must say no? I would not have what I carry poison you, too. I would not poison anyone with what now dwells in my heart.”
“What will you do?” he asked.
“Find a way to live,” I said. I stood on my toes to kiss his cheek once more. “Perhaps I will see you at the stream sometime.”
He nodded and left. I watched him walk away, and my chest swelled with pity. Twice rejected. The second time for his own sake. I hoped he would find someone worthy of him.
Closing the door, I turned back to stir the thin stew I’d made. Not long after, the door opened again, and Father strode in with a frown on his face.
“Benella, the Sisters have let me go,” he said without preamble.
I felt a surge of relief. I’d worried that Aryana might try to manipulate my father in some way.
“We have a few options open to us that I wanted to discuss with you. We could move south, but because of your sister’s wedding feast, I have very little coin. We would only be able to take what we can carry,” his eyes flicked to his remaining books.
I didn’t turn to eye the meager display.
“Is there another option?” I asked.
“Moving south would give us both a fresh start,” he said, still trying to speak for the first option.
“Yes, but I’ve learned the baker has moved south. The North with all its snobbery and deceit no longer seems so bad.”
Father’s lips twitched for a moment before he grew serious and withdrew a letter from his coat. I recognized it immediately as the letter I’d delivered so long ago. He handed it to me and watched me unfold it.
For a moment, I could only stare at the beast’s script. A pang of loss pierced me before I read the words.
Whether I return to my rightful form or not, the North still needs a lord to carry out certain responsibilities. During my youth, I ignored many of my lessons, especially those in mathematics, and need someone I can trust to help account the estate’s expenses and so forth. Please consider my invitation for employment.
Regards,
Alec Ruhall, Lord of the North
“Why didn’t you come?” I asked, meeting my father’s gaze.
“I asked myself why he would invite me for employment when he had you, a person well able to account the estate’s expenses. I thought that he perhaps sought to use me to coerce you as he’d done once before. Do you think this a serious offer for honest employment?”
I read the lines again and slowly nodded. “I do. But I wonder if the offer still holds.”
“As did I. I wen
t to see him,” he said.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” I paced the room, too restless to sit. I’d not spoken to the beast since...memories swamped me. Reading to him in the library, feeling his fingers in my hair. Then, running from Tennen and the baker’s weight pressing the air from my lungs. It had been almost two weeks since I’d last seen the beast.
“I wanted to be sure before we discussed it as an option. He well knows my circumstance and that we come as a pair. He assured me of a place for you and a more than fair wage for my work.”
My mind raced. I could see him again. Excitement surged for only a moment before I killed it. No, I couldn’t see him. I would never see the beast again. He was gone. Lord Ruhall, the man who had watched with dispassionate eyes as the baker tried to force himself on me, had taken the beast’s place.
“Is this why you asked if I wanted to return?”
“Yes. When I visited, people were coming and going through the gates at will. I don’t think there would be any danger.”
I considered the letter once more and didn’t see that Father had much choice but to accept. The idea of returning made my stomach churn with anger. Yet, unlike my sisters, I would not make Father sacrifice any more of his books when there was a viable option to save them. His books meant so much to him. Books...I stopped my pacing and smiled at him excitedly.
“We most certainly should go, then. You will love the library, Father. There are more books than you can imagine.” Of the beast and the Liege Lord, I forced myself to give little thought. One was dead and the other a cold stranger.
Father smiled and patted my hand, and we agreed to travel to the manor the next morning with the hope that we might return with a carriage for our belongings.
Chapter 2
The gates stood open as Father had said. Around the iron, vines curled, green, yet lifeless; the vitality the enchantment had imbued, gone. A man with a scythe hacked at the growth that crowded the drive. Another man worked not far from there, pulling out roots and picking up the cut remains the first man left in his wake.
Father and I walked the drive, each of us carrying a single bag. With the sun shining and the lane mostly cleared, the estate lacked the feeling I’d previously associated with it. A forbidden safety. Now, it seemed only a rundown estate.
When we reached the door, the man who swept the steps looked us over. There was no recognition in his eyes when he glanced at me, and I knew he was new to the Liege Lord’s service. He directed us to the kitchen door. Familiar with the grounds, I nodded and led the way along the newly-made, narrow path. As I walked, I wondered how many of the original staff had remained after the enchantment had broken.
The kitchen door stood open, the hearth overheating the room as the three cooks set about making the morning meal. This room appeared much the same, yet with so many present, very different. Those differences gave me hope that the memories of my time spent here would remain buried and that I might be comfortable here once more.
“Good morning,” my father said to the kitchen staff.
One of the cooks looked up with a slightly disgruntled expression.
“We’ve hired the staff we can. Come back next fall. There might be more work then.”
Father didn’t even blink at her less than welcoming tone.
“I am his Lord’s man of estate. Mr. Benard Hovtel.”
The cook glanced at us once more then dusted her hands on her apron.
“I’m Mrs. Wimbly, Lord Ruhall’s head cook. I’ll have the maid inform him of your arrival.” She moved toward the hall and yelled for Egrit.
The familiar name almost made me smile. So, a few had stayed.
“Have a seat,” the cook said with a nod toward the table. “I’ll feed you while you wait.”
We’d barely seated ourselves when she set a coddled egg before each of us and moved away.
Behind us, someone strode into the room. Thinking it Egrit, I glanced over my shoulder. It wasn’t Egrit, but still a face I recognized. And the sight of it killed my appetite.
The events that had unfolded at the bakery had overshadowed my glimpse of Lord Ruhall. Now, however, I saw him clearly. He was young and handsome with a strong jaw and a regal nose. His dark hair and thick brows made him appear a bit imposing while his blue eyes lent an air of cool detachment. He was dressed in fine clothes, his hair was neatly combed, and he appeared quite well.
Resentment clouded my thinking. How could he look so well when I felt so ill?
The Lord of the estate looked around for someone, presumably the cook, and froze when he saw me. Surprise colored his face as his gaze swept over me then moved to my father.
“I would speak to your daughter, with your permission, sir,” he said to Father, not even looking at me again.
“It is not my permission that matters, but hers,” my father said, looking at me in question.
“It is yours that matters at the moment,” the Liege Lord said.
My eyebrows rose, and my hand instinctively closed over my coddled egg. Suddenly the egg sailed through the air and hit the returned Lord of the North in the chest. I couldn’t remember throwing it. Yet, I didn’t regret it.
“I think my permission matters most, sir,” I said, standing. Despite his apparent disregard for me, I mattered.
His shocked gaze swung to me. Yolk dripped from his neckcloth onto his coat.
Several of the servants looked at me with rounded eyes as well. Of course, I’d shocked them. One of our rank did not disobey the Lord of the North or, at least, didn’t lob an egg at him. The assistant cook moved forward to offer him a cloth to clean up. He accepted the rag.
“Sit,” he said in an authoritative voice that rang in the kitchen.
While he looked down at the mess I’d made of his shirt, I ignored his command and marched from the kitchen toward the hall. I was wrong to think I could reside here. Wrong to think I could avoid my feelings of resentment and mistrust for him or that I might avoid him entirely.
“Benella!”
Anger laced his voice, sending a chill through me. My pulse leapt, and I instinctively lifted my skirts and ran. Egrit barely twisted out of my way near the laundry room.
Behind me, he yelled, asking which way I’d gone. I needed to leave. Quickly.
I slid into the entry where a weathered butler stood beside the door.
“Open the door,” I said as I raced toward the man. His black eyes widened, and I immediately knew him. “Mr. Crow, open the damn door.”
He hurriedly tugged it open. Just a few hand spans, but it was enough for me to squeeze through before the Liege Lord raced into the room.
“Why did you let her out?” I heard him demand as he pulled the door open.
“Because she was trying to escape you, sir.”
I kept running but almost laughed. The servants who’d been enchanted had learned well.
Without warning, an arm encircled my waist, and I found myself tumbling forward. Something pressed against my back, and I turned in midair.
Facing the sky, I landed on something soft. Him.
I scrambled off and backed away a few steps as he slowly climbed to his feet. Poised to run, I glared at him.
“Why are you always throwing food at me?” he asked, his face red.
“You deserved it,” I said, my temper freeing my tongue. He deserved far more than a lobbed egg.
His eyes flashed, and he took a step toward me. I backed up a step. He stopped his advance and threw his hands in the air.
“Why are you acting as if you fear me now?”
I almost snorted. When had I ever let fear rule me?
“How should I act?”
His expression softened.
“The same as you always have.”
This time I did snort. “I thought you didn’t like me throwing food.”
He relaxed his stance. “You are correct. Act the same as you always have with the exception of the food throwing. Stop that.”
“I
cannot act the same. I am not the same person and neither are you. I thought I knew you, but I do not.”
He frowned at me. “What do you mean?”
Bitterly, I eyed him. “The beast I’d grown fond of growled at me, ranted at me, and clawed through doors to get to me. He fed me. Cared for me. The Liege Lord stood in the doorway of the bakery and did nothing when that pig of a man rutted over me.”
He paled and reached for me. I pulled back, and he dropped his hand.
“I am still that beast. Only Rose’s restraining hand kept me from—” He closed his eyes briefly. “Benella, I wanted to kill him for touching you.”
I struggled not to scoff.
He studied my unforgiving expression for a moment then took a slow breath.
“I need you here,” he said. “I’m barely in control. Rose is watching me. She doubts I can be a lord in truth.”
He needed my help, just as the beast had, but the pity I’d felt for the lonely beast didn’t pertain to the man before me. I didn’t want to help the Liege Lord. Yet, I knew I could give only one answer. For my father’s sake and to avoid destitution, I had to agree.
“Of course I will help you, my Lord.”
He stepped close again, and I quickly backed away several steps.
“Why do you keep doing that?” he asked, anger flashing in his eyes.
“It is not proper to stand too close to a servant. Haven’t you learned anything?” I glanced at the lower windows of the manor, glad for the several faces that peeked out at us.
He followed my gaze and growled but kept his distance.
“We have more to discuss. Come to my study when you’ve finished your meal.” Then, he stomped back inside.
I chose to walk around to the kitchen door. My heavy heart dragged my feet and slowed my progress. Seeing him had shocked me. And I realized my affection for the beast hadn’t disappeared with the dear creature. Yet, it didn’t extend to the man, either.
When I returned to the table, Father looked up from his eggs and studied me with a slight smile on his lips.
“How did your talk go?”
