Deceit: A Beauty and the Beast Novel (2 page)

“Fish and certain animal waste,” I murmured,
thumbing through several pages. “Perhaps vegetation, too.
Interesting.” I wished I had a way to ask Mr. Kinlyn how he
prevented soil depletion.

I turned my gaze to the writing desk. The
thought of writing Mr. Kinlyn led to the thought of writing
Father.

“May I write letters and have them
delivered?” I asked the beast.

“You may write, but I will read your
correspondence before sending it,” he said.

I stood and moved to the writing desk.
Outside the window, I caught the movement of the female nymph,
kneeling before her no longer solid partner. Before I could fully
stop to wonder what they did, the beast rumbled a quick promise to
return shortly and left the room.

Worried for the nymph, I rushed to the
window and tossed it open. Both nymphs froze at the noise.

“He comes,” I quickly whispered in warning.
Both solidified at the sound of my voice.

As the dark mists roiled into view from the
left, I noticed where the pair remained joined and blushed deeply.
Apparently, the baker wasn’t the only one who liked to taste.

Leaning further out the window, I called to
the beast, concerned about his temper should he find his nymph
solidified.

“Sir, do all the trees on the estate grow so
peculiarly?”

He slowed at the sound of my voice and
growled menacingly but did not approach the trees. Instead, he came
to the window, bringing me close to his height as he stood on two
legs. Through the mist, I saw one of his ears flick in
agitation.

“Why did you open the window?”

“To get a better view of the beauty
outside,” I said calmly. “I didn’t mean to disturb your time away
from me. I will look at the trees later. They bear studying.” I
kept the insincerity from my voice.

With a last look at the trees, I closed the
window and moved back to the sofa.

Another tray waited for me. Anxiously, I
nibbled at the food, only tasting it when the beast returned. On
the pretext of writing a letter, I passed the window and saw, to my
joy, the pair unmarred.

The beast rejected my first few attempts at
a letter to my father. The version he finally accepted included
very little detail, only that I had enjoyed a day reading about
farming and my findings on the subject. In closing, I wished Father
well and promised to see him soon. Similarly, I penned a letter to
Mr. Kinlyn to ask what treatments he gave his fields at the end of
each season.

The crow I’d noticed in Konrall came to the
window when the beast called and took the letters in his beak
before flying off again.

The afternoon faded to evening, and bored
with the atmosphere of the library, I ambled through the house, the
beast not far behind me. When I came to my room by chance, I
decided to go to bed early and bade him good night. He growled and
grumped but left me alone.

That night, the sound of my door opening
roused me from my sleep enough that I lifted my head.

“Sleep, Benella,” the beast whispered.

The bed dipped as he lay next to me and
threaded his fingers in my hair. I slept.

* * * *

A hot bath waited in my room when I woke.
Naturally hesitant after my last experience bathing in the beast’s
lair, I stared at it before stripping. I couldn’t avoid bathing
forever and bathing once a week when I left this place didn’t
appeal to me, either.

Sinking into the warm water, I sighed but
didn’t waste time relaxing. After washing with an overly sweet
smelling soap, I stepped from the water and wrapped a large towel
around myself before opening the wardrobe. A lone garment waited
within, a single panel of fabric which would leave nothing to the
imagination. Turning to look for my nightgown, I noted that too had
disappeared. I wrinkled my nose in frustration, until the garish
pink curtains on the windows caught my eye.

When I stepped out into the hall, I wasn’t
surprised to see the beast waited. Ripped patches of pink
discreetly hid my important parts, one long rectangle over my
breasts and another uniquely shaped piece I’d tied at my sides to
cover my backside and front.

The beast growled at the sight of me. I
walked up to him, pressing through his mist until I saw his eyes
inches from mine. He stood on all fours.

“Do you want me to fear you?” I asked, my
breath moving his fur as I spoke.

He blinked at me.

“No.”

“Then why do you keep growling at me? A
growl in the animal world is meant as a warning and to inspire
caution if not fear.”

“I’m not an animal,” he said with a growl
still in his throat.

“Then stop acting like one,” I said with a
soft calm.

He blinked at me again then narrowed his
eyes.

“I don’t like your dress,” he said.

“Much better,” I said with a smile and
reached out to pat his head. I knew I took a risk to treat him so;
but if he insisted on playing games with me, I would play them
back.

His eyes rounded at my touch, and I wondered
if he’d growl again. Instead, he just watched me closely as I gave
his head a final pat and turned away, not responding to his
comment.

“May I have eggs for breakfast?” I asked
pleasantly. “Oh, and bacon?” My mouth watered at the idea.

He answered with subdued approval and
followed me through the hallways until I found the library. A tray
already waited with the food I’d requested. Instead of searching
for a book, I sat on the sofa and took a large bite.

“Do you eat?” I asked.

He’d pulled the mist around himself again,
but not so fully that I couldn’t see the outline of him.

“Of course,” he answered.

“No need to sound so offended. Nothing else
here seems normal, and you never eat with me, so I wasn’t sure.” I
took several more bites. “What shall I do today?” I asked.

“Whatever you wish,” he answered.

Finishing my meal, I found my way to the
kitchen and wandered out the door. Every time I’d left the kitchen,
I’d gone straight toward the estate’s gates. This time, I turned
left, hopefully toward the side of the manor with the library.

The dainty slippers did little to protect my
feet as I tromped along, and my soles grew tender as I walked.
Still, I pressed on until I walked the length of the front of the
manor. Stopping, I looked up at one spot and counted four stories.
Somehow, I’d missed seeing a staircase on the second story.

Rounding the corner, a patch of thick briars
forced me away from the manor and into the woods. I felt a snag on
my dress a moment before I heard the material rip. A good portion
of my thigh was now exposed.

“I don’t care for my dress either,” I said
over my shoulder in response to the beast’s earlier comment.

He said nothing as he followed me.

By the time I circled around the briars, I
sported several snags and tears in the dress and truly appreciated
the pieces of curtain I’d tucked inside of it. I bled from a few
small scrapes, but it was nothing that slowed me down.

Finally, I came to the place where I’d
spotted the nymphs, but neither remained. Disappointed, I looked
toward the window. It would have been a much shorter journey to
have climbed out from there. Shaking my head, I continued in the
same direction and eventually found the door the beast had used to
reach the nymphs the day I’d read to him.

With relief, I limped back to the library
and sat on the sofa to tug off my slippers. This wouldn’t have
happened if he had let me keep my boots. The cuts were starting to
sting.

“I need better clothes,” I said. “Sturdy
ones that will stand up to briars and stones.”

“No. If I cannot touch you, I will at least
look at you.”

“That’s why I have to wear this? Fine.” I
flopped back onto the sofa and put my feet up. “Touch my hair then
give me boots, sturdy trousers, and a man’s shirt.”

A slight choked noise came from behind me,
and I closed my eyes, not believing I’d let my temper escape.

“My apologies,” he said. “Allow me to heal
your injuries.” It came as a demand rather than a request.

“I’d rather have trousers.”

“Allow me to heal your injuries, and you
will have your trousers when you journey outside.”

“Fine,” I said, knowing he’d neither offered
boots nor a shirt. Trousers were a start, though.

His tongue lapped at my ankle, startling me
from my thoughts. He moved higher, not needing to move the dress to
soothe the cut on my knee. Warmth flooded me after his tongue found
the light scrape on my thigh.

When he moved to the slight tear in the
material on my stomach, I trembled, no longer certain of our deal.
He ran his tongue over the tiny wound several times before moving
upward. Then, he paused. His massive head hovered just above my
breasts, the heat of his breath warming them.

Before I could think to panic, he continued
upward toward my chin, and I recalled a branch that had snapped
back at my face. The touch of his tongue so close to my mouth sent
a shiver chasing through me. He licked me from just below my chin
to my bottom lip.

“Touch me,” he said.

My eyelids popped open, and I found myself
staring into his eyes. Large, wide set in his shaggy head and deep
blue, they held me in place with no mist separating us. I raised a
hand and gently placed it against his neck, the soft fur warming my
fingers. Underneath, I felt him shudder, and I wondered how often
he felt anyone’s touch. Probably never. The creatures here seemed
to fear him as much as the townspeople.

“Tell me true, did I miss any?” he
whispered.

Reluctantly, I nodded and rolled to my
stomach, breaking our contact.

He laved the scrapes on the backs of my legs
and arms and then the bottoms of my feet, which made me twitch and
giggle involuntarily. When he finished, he moved away from me,
retreating into the mist.

For the rest of the day, I contented myself
with books and tried to forget his presence.

* * * *

No trousers waited in the wardrobe the next
day, just a selection of translucent gowns. Smiling at the
selection, I picked the most modest dress from them and tucked
another ripped panel from the curtains, which hadn’t
disappeared.

The beast waited in the hallway with less
mist than the day before.

“I don’t like the dress,” he said again.

“Me neither,” I said agreeably. “I thought I
would be able to wear trousers today.”

“If you would like to go out again today,
you can change in the servant’s quarters in the kitchen. Your
trousers are there and are only meant for outside. Inside, I want
you wearing the dresses you find within your wardrobe.”

Nodding, I walked hurriedly toward the
kitchen. True to his word, trousers waited on one of the beds as
did boots and a cream shirt. I quickly closed the door and changed.
The trousers were a bit snugger than I was used to, as was the
shirt, but the boots fit well.

Eagerly, I stepped from the room and held
out my arms to do a slow turn for the beast.

“Well?” I prompted with a smile on my
face.

“Lovely,” he said.

Happy with the clothes, I led the way out
the door. As I slowly explored the area in front of the manor, the
beast paced behind me. Near lunch, I sensed his growing impatience
and knew my time outside would soon come to an end. It didn’t upset
me. It had been an enjoyable outing.

“Go change,” he said. “Do not wear these
clothes inside unless you want to lose them.”

I went back into the servant’s quarters and
closed myself in to change. Immediately, I saw what he’d done. The
dress remained where I’d set it, but my scraps of curtain were
missing. I sat heavily on the mattress, its material too thick to
tear without the help of a knife. There was nothing else to shield
myself from his gaze. If I stayed in the trousers or tried to use
the shirt in some way, I had no doubt they would be gone in the
morning, and I would not see them again.

Defeated for the moment, I put on the dress
and marched out the door. The table in the kitchen was laden with
food.

“I’m not hungry,” I said and turned to
leave.

“Stop. Turn and show me your dress as you
did when you changed this morning.”

Teeth clenched to keep from telling him what
I thought of him, I slowly turned a circle, keeping my arms at my
side.

“If you’re finished demeaning me, I’d like
to go to my room.”

He growled low and long.

“Sit. Eat. Or I will feed you.”

Glaring at the swirling mist near the door
of the kitchen, I marched to the table, spotted a bowl filled with
meat and gravy, and stuck my hand in it. Pulling a fist full of
dripping meat from it, I proceeded to shove it in my mouth in the
most grotesque, unladylike fashion I could imagine.

His roar shook the windows, but I ignored
him, swallowed the lump of meat, and reached for the roasted baby
potatoes. With my hand. I crammed one in my mouth and chewed
noisily.

“I said sit.”

I sat heavily on the chair, not bothering to
face the table. Never taking my eyes from him, I reached to the
side and grabbed the next item. Stewed plums. Though a disgusting
dish I usually avoided, I didn’t blink as I shoved some in my mouth
and dribbled juice down the front of my dress. The plums gagged me
when I swallowed, and I lost the remaining threads of my
temper.

Without standing, I grabbed the dish and
threw it with all my might at the beast, whose form briefly
appeared in the mist. The bowl hit him squarely, broke apart, and
drenched him in the sugared plum sauce.

The mist disappeared, and I saw the rage in
his eyes.

“Run,” he whispered.

A shiver ran through me, and I bolted from
my chair, my skirt floating around my legs as I ran for my room. I
wouldn’t make it unless he chose to let me.