Cursed

by Felicity Harper

  Really?” she teased Prudence. “I have never known you to anticipate the Winter Festival so keenly before!”

  “You know quite well it is your big moment I look forward to!”

  Henrietta bit her lip to stop herself from blurting out all her doubts and worries to her sister. Hopefully, seeing Sir Hardwick again would help her to make up her mind. He would call on her again in three days’ time and she was counting on that visit to ease the dreadful sense of confusion she felt whenever she considered him as anything more than a passing fancy. It had crossed her mind more than once to discuss her feelings with the ogre - but that didn’t seem quite right either.

  Instead, she said to Prudence, “Give my love to the girls and Aunt Penelope and tell them I am looking forward to seeing them.”

  “Of course,” Prudence said gently. “Don’t look so crestfallen, Hetty. I shall be back with the troops before you know it!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You are a stubborn woman, Henrietta,” the ogre growled.

  “I know!” she replied cheerily. “It’s one of my many charms.”

  He reached up and swung her down from her horse. “What would your father say if he knew you were visiting a strange ogre deep in the woods?”

  “I’m a grown woman, I do not have to tell my father everything.” She pointed to the basket which was still attached to Marnie’s saddle. The ogre untied it. “Even if he knew,” Henrietta continued, “I am sure he would say, ‘Don’t you know any cheerier ogres than this old curmudgeon?’”

  “More likely, he would turn me out - and quite rightly so,” the ogre muttered as he followed her into the lodge.

  “Just once, it would be nice if you greeted me with a ‘Good day, Henrietta! What a pleasure it is to see you!’” she said as she made a beeline for the stove and started to warm her hands.

  “It’s always a pleasure to see you but that doesn’t mean I think you should come here.” He dumped the basket down on the table and glared at her back.

  “Why?” she asked, secretly basking in his confession. It cheered her to know he enjoyed her company - as she did his. She turned and bestowed a beatific smile on him. He scowled at her in return.

  “Because you are a young Lady! And, despite my appearance, it would cause gossip if it were known you come here alone. I do not want that for you.”

  “I care naught for what people say. You are my friend and, as for your appearance, you are certainly handsome enough to cause plenty of gossip.” She stared at him challengingly. The ogre gave a long, theatrical growl and made himself busy emptying the basket - but Henrietta was almost positive she had seen colour steal over his cheeks. She wasn’t teasing him. The more she got to know of him, the more handsome he seemed to her. He was big and gruff, certainly, but, when she looked at him, she saw a powerful body that contained a gentle soul. And those haunting grey eyes ….

  He looked up and caught her gaze. “I appreciate all that you have done for me,” he repeated, “but I do not want to cause you any grief.”

  “That isn’t going to happen.” She smiled and pointed to one of the pies he had unpacked. “Look, I used the winter apples we collected. Shall I make some tea and we can have a piece?”

  The ogre nodded, allowing her to change the subject. Henrietta knew the ogre worried about her visits but she could see no harm in their being friends. Besides, she liked being around him even more than she cared to admit. “You know, visiting you is all I have at the moment,” she said briskly as she put a pan of water on to boil. “With Prudence and the girls away and Father busy with … well, with Caroline, I find myself suddenly redundant.”

  “What about Hardwick?”

  She smiled conspiratorially. “As a matter of fact, I saw him yesterday. He came on one of his ‘courting expeditions’, as I have begun to think of them. He picked me up in a show-offy curricle with two prim and proper grey mares. We made quite the show in the village.”

  “That’s where you went for a drive?”

  “Yes. I think Sir Hardwick had plans for something grander,” she chuckled, “but I wanted to deliver some baskets to Father’s tenants.” Henrietta had felt quite grand turning up in the beautiful carriage. The villagers had also been delighted and had found Sir Hardwick very charming. He had even given several of the children a ride in the carriage while Henrietta was visiting with their mothers. “He was very good about it in fact,” she added, not wanting to sound as though she were mocking her suitor.

  The ogre harrumphed. He could just imagine Hardwick laying on the charm for Henrietta. Much about the knight irked him; but to say as much would just sound like sour grapes - so he said nothing.

  While the ogre went back outside to see to her horse, Henrietta poured the tea and cut some pie. She sensed there was something he wasn’t saying and thought it might have something to do with her courtship. The ogre seemed to close down whenever she spoke of Sir Hardwick and yet - often - it was he who brought him up in conversation. Might he be wondering what would happen to their friendship if she chose to marry the handsome young knight? Or was it just her who was worried about that?

  Of course, if she married, she would have to leave home. She knew her sisters and Papa didn’t rely on her as they had but that didn’t mean she didn’t need them; or Riverly - or him.

  The ogre returned to find her staring down at the table. “Penny for them.”

  Startled out of her thoughts, Henrietta asked him, “Will you miss me when I leave?”

  He frowned. “You’re leaving?”

  “Maybe,” she said and sniffed. Only then did she realise she was crying.

  “If Sir Hardwick asks me to marry him … and it seems he is going to … and if I’m not needed here any more … so … so why not marry him?” She shrugged, confused and upset. “He seems like a good man.” And she looked up at the ogre and could keep her tears at bay no longer.

  He opened his arms and she launched herself at him unhesitatingly. Henrietta tucked her head into his warm chest and sobbed as though her world had ended. So much seemed to have happened in such a short spell of time. Nothing felt certain any longer and she was afraid. How could she know whether marrying Hardwick was the right thing to do? Yes, he was a good man and she liked him well enough - but was that enough? Why was it that she felt happier and more comfortable in the company of Ogre than she did with the man she was supposed to marry? She tucked in closer, seeking the ogre’s warmth and comfort. In the short time she had known him, he had come to mean so much to her in ways which she could not even name.

  For a long while, they stood there with the ogre’s arms wrapped around her as she cried.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away at last. “I’m being silly.” She searched in her pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her face, trying not to cry again. Placing a finger under her chin, the ogre tipped her face up to his.

  “What has made you sad?”

  “I don’t know. Everything.” She laughed through her tears. “You must think me such a fool.”

  “No, I do not,” he said sternly. “Now, tell me!”

  Henrietta shrugged and turned away. She took deep breaths to try and stem the tide of tears that threatened to engulf her once again. “I shouldn’t have agreed to the stupid tournament! Everything has changed now and … and I’m not ready!”

  “You don’t have to marry Hardwick.”

  She hiccupped. “I know. But it’s too late now to put things back to how they were. Papa will marry Caroline; the girls are away and what is there here for me?” She turned around and looked up at him and her eyes were shining. “There is only you,” she said quietly.

  There was a long moment of silence before the ogre spoke. “Don’t shed your tears for me, Henrietta,” he said coldly. “Remember, I am a monster.”

  “Never! Ever! Call yourself that! In my hearing again!” she shouted fiercely, “You are not a monster!”

  “
You do not know me,” he growled. “You have no idea what I am capable of doing.”

  “Then tell me!” she demanded. “Tell me what it is that makes you think so poorly of yourself!”

  “I hurt people!” the ogre roared. “I have killed! Is that enough for you?” And, with that, he tore open the door and stormed out of the lodge.

  “No!” Henrietta whispered. “I don’t believe you!”

  He ran through the forest but he could not outrun his pain. He had to leave this place. Go far away so he would not destroy her too. He was no longer a Prince but a monster - a cursed creature. He must never forget that. Bitterness and anger had shaped him just as much as the curse had transformed him. He would hurt her if he stayed just as surely as he had hurt those others.

  He stopped and gasped, his breath leaving his chest as the pain hit him. The screams of the old couple crushed beneath the feet of the fleeing throng, rang in his ears. The vision of the gypsy girl running in circles trying to escape her burning dress played before his eyes. No enemy had caused the harm done to the people of Warwick that day. The devastation had been his own.

  It mattered not that his Father’s death had plunged him into deep despair. Nor was it the fault of those poor souls that their King’s death had come to pass on the same day they had come for their alms. He heard their voices: his mother weeping; his brother screaming ‘No!’ He saw himself, young and proud and his blood pounding with fury and his father dead and these people begging. He saw the brazier fall and the hot coals spilling out and catching hold of the dry hay scattered about.

  People had died because of him; a young girl disfigured because of him. No matter that he wished it otherwise; the past could not be changed. Had the Gypsy Queen not laid the curse upon his head, the grief at what he had done would have driven him mad.

  For the lives you stole and the beauty you marred, I curse you, Albern, as your just reward.

  From this moment hence, all shall fear you and from your countenance all shall recoil.

  A monster you have become and one you shall stay: an ogre you will be forever from this day.

  The ogre would change nothing that had been done to him. The ancient punishment was just and fair, the curse merely a reminder of what he was.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Henrietta tied her last ribbon to the tree. “Please, Ogre, come to me,” she begged the forest.

  She had walked the route to the gamekeeper’s lodge twice in the last few days and there had been no sign of him. Her thoughts constantly returned to the last time she had seen him, when he had taken her into his arms. She would relive those moments in his embrace: the feel of his arms around her; the beat of his heart against her cheek. She had felt such comfort with him but then he had suddenly grown so angry. Why did he keep pushing her away?

  Where could he be? She shivered in the cold and pulled her shawl tightly around her. She couldn’t stay out here or she would freeze. Reluctantly, Henrietta left the forest in search of the one person she knew who might have the answer she sought.

  She found Briggs in his office, with his shirt-sleeves rolled up, poring over the Riverly ledgers.

  “Come in, Lady Henrietta,” he said, rolling down his sleeves. “You look cold. Warm yourself at the fire.” He added another log as she took a seat at the fireside then sat behind his desk again.

  “Thank you, Mr Briggs. I’m sorry to trouble you when you are busy but I am worried.”

  “What troubles you, my Lady?”

  “It’s the ogre,” she said, pulling fretfully at her shawl. “He has gone.”

  Briggs smiled. “I’m sure there is no need for you to worry. He has gone off before and returned.”

  “He has?” she asked hopefully.

  “Yes. Not for a while, I grant you, but he did disappear for a spell shortly after he came here. He seemed to suggest it was a family matter.”

  “He has a family?” That surprised her. The ogre had never spoken to her of a family. In fact, he always deflected any questions she had asked about family or home.

  “Apparently,” Briggs shrugged. “He wasn’t very forthcoming about it though so I didn’t ask. Perhaps that’s where he is now.”

  Henrietta wanted to believe that was the case but she knew in her heart that, this time, the ogre had left because of her. “He was very upset when I last saw him,” she said, choking back her tears. “He ran from me and I haven’t seen him since.”

  Briggs looked into the fire thoughtfully and then back at her. “There is something I have been wondering about,” he said. He paused, as though considering his words. “It might be nothing but, a little while back, Hardwick came to me asking to speak to the ogre.”

  “How does Sir Hardwick even know about him?” Henrietta gasped. “I never said a word to another soul!”

  Briggs looked as though he was weighing up how much he should say. Henrietta recognised the look immediately. He was trying to protect her. “What is it, Mr Briggs? Tell me!”

  “Lady Henrietta, you remember the day at the tournament when the ogre was injured?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I’m sorry, my Lady, but it was your arrow that injured the ogre.” At her cry of alarm, Briggs hurried over, knelt down and took Henrietta’s cold hands in his. “That’s not all of it, I’m afraid.” He spoke reluctantly. Having known Henrietta her whole life, he looked upon her as he might a daughter and the last thing he wished to do was bring her more distress.

  “Please tell me, Briggsy. I’m no longer a child,” she said with a small attempt at a smile.

  “Very well. At your instruction, I went to the forest that day and discovered Hardwick had claimed the arrow. I believe it was he who took it from the ogre’s back and then he and his friends hog-tied him and dragged him along behind their horses.”

  “Dear God, Mr Briggs! Why haven’t you told me this before?”

  “I thought about it but I couldn’t see what purpose it would serve. Sir Hardwick had claimed you and you seemed so pleased … and he did let the ogre go once I explained that he belonged here at Riverly.”

  “Then what has prompted you to tell me now? There must be something bothering you.”

  “Since that day, I have seen Hardwick talking with the ogre,” Briggs said. He perched on the edge of his desk. “At the time, I thought little of it but then - a fortnight or so later - he came to me and demanded I fetch the ogre. I asked why and he said it was a private matter between them.”

  “Did Ogre tell you what it was about?”

  “No. He said only that he was helping you.”

  “Helping me? Whatever could he have meant by that?”

  Could that be why the ogre asked her about Hardwick? Had he thought he was helping her to get what she wanted? But - if that were the case - why would he then become so withdrawn when she spoke of Hardwick to him?

  “It’s not for me to speculate, my Lady, but I did wonder whether it might have something to do with the challenges.”

  Suddenly, things began to make a little more sense to Henrietta. “I must speak with Sir Hardwick immediately!” she announced. She stood up and placed an imploring hand on Briggs’ arm, “Would you find him for me, Mr Briggs?”

  “I will go now, Lady Henrietta,” Briggs replied, pulling on his jacket. “I believe he is staying at the Rosen’s estate.”

  “Thank you. Tell him only that I wish to see him!”

  To Henrietta’s relief, neither her Father nor Caroline showed up for afternoon tea. She needed some time alone with her thoughts. That the ogre and Hardwick had been seen talking together confounded her. She could not imagine what they would have found to speak about - other than her. Henrietta was beginning to suspect Hardwick was playing her for a fool. But why was the ogre helping him?

  Mrs Huggett entered with the tea. “There’s a letter here for you, my Lady,” she said as she set down the tray.

  Henrietta turned it over and read the r
eturn address. “It’s from Prudence, Mrs Huggett!” she said smiling.

  “Hopefully it’ll be news of their return. It’s been a mite quiet round her with them all gone,” Mrs Huggett declared and bustled out of the room.

  Carefully, Henrietta broke the seal and opened the letter.

  Dearest Hetty,

  I am happy to tell you that we have only five more days until we return home.

  Henrietta looked at the date Prudence had written and saw that they were due home the day after next. “Thank goodness!” she said aloud and continued reading.

  We have been warned of freezing fog making the journey slow so fingers crossed that it lifts before we leave. We should hate to miss the Winter Festival!

  The girls are looking forward to showing both you and Papa what genteel ladies they have become in the - weeks! - since they left. Don’t expect too much though. Millicent still tries to filch my favourite hats and Cecilia thinks it her right to hog just as much of the attention as she always has. Some things, I imagine, shall never change!

  I am eager to hear all your news. You said little in your last letter of how things are between you and the sublime Sir Hardwick. I trust he has managed to convince you he is more than just a handsome face, bulging muscles and a good head of hair! Mind you, there is much to be said for such assets - though don’t tell Miles I said so as he can be rather touchy about his hair.

  Has Papa made any announcements yet concerning a certain Caroline Hyde-Thornton? If not, he had better do so soon. We are already beginning to hear gossip about their ‘closeness’ up here and that’s before the season has officially begun! Gossip spreads quicker than the plague. You might remind Papa of that fact!

  I have some news for you. We are to dine with the Aylesburys - of the Hardwick relations kind - tomorrow evening. I shall pump them for information, discreetly of course, and fill you in on my return.