Beast Lord: (Beauty and the Beast) (Tangled Tales Book 3) (13 page)

“Like what?” she asked, taking a sip of wine from the wineskin.

He hesitated for the moment and looked down to the food, playing with some crumbs. “I won’t let you marry Lord Wickhambreaux.”

That surprised her, as she hadn’t expected him to care, but yet he sounded as if he did.

“Thank you for your concern, but why should you even care who I marry or what happens to me for that matter?”

She saw his hard blue eyes soften, and her heart softened toward him as well. “I care about you, Bonnie, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You don’t?” She put down the wine and her eyes interlocked with his. Looking just at his eyes was like looking into a window to his soul. He told the truth. She was sure of it now. Somewhere, down deep inside him was a caring, kind person.

“I know you don’t care for me, and I can’t say I blame you. I can barely stand looking at my own reflection. No one as pretty and as kind as you should have to see this, but I assure you I didn’t always look this way.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She looked down and bit her lip.

“You don’t need to say anything. I won’t be around long enough to rule Breckenridge anyway, so if you want my help, I’ll take an army with me and I’ll help you find your father.”

“You would do that for me?” Her eyes snapped up and she felt concern. “And what do you mean you won’t be around long enough? Are you leaving?”

“Dying.” His word caught her off guard and she didn’t know how to answer. This changed everything.

“No. You’re not going to die, Stefan.”

His eyes trailed downward. “What does it matter? I’d rather be dead than to live with this curse.”

“I do care for you,” she blurted out, and he cautiously lifted his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me, Bonnie. You don’t need to say that.”

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it.”

“Nay, you couldn’t possibly. No one could care for a man like me. Now let’s go.” He started collecting up the remnants of their lunch to put it in the travel bag, but her hand reached out and stopped him.

“Let me prove to you that I tell the truth.” Then before he could object, she leaned over and took his face in her hands. “I see beyond these scars. I see something special in your eyes and I know down deep you are far from being a beast, Sir Stefan de Bar.”

“Bonnie . . . please.” He closed his eyes and almost seemed to be in pain. Then she reached forward and gently placed her lips upon one of his scars, kissing it tenderly. He moaned, and squeezed his eyes closed tighter.

“I believe you are a wonderful person and would someday make someone a fine husband – not to mention be a good father as well.” She reached over and kissed the scar on the other side of his face next.

He held his breath, and then released it and opened his eyes slowly. “If I wasn’t a beast, I would tell you that that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You’re not a beast.”

“I am!”

She kissed him on the lips next, and while his mouth was hard at first, his lips softened and melded with hers. Then she reached out and touched his chest, slipping her hands under his tunic to feel his bare skin. She expected his torso to feel very hairy, but to her surprise she felt only skin instead.

“Please . . . stop,” he said and closed his eyes again. She ran her hands over his chest, and grazed her fingers past his nipples. He jerked and inhaled sharply.

“Don’t you like this?”

“Only too well,” he admitted. “Bonnie,” he said, shaking his head in sorrow and warning. “Don’t do this. It will excite me and I won’t be able to control myself – and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you would hurt me. Not even in your beast form.” She moved closer and sat on his lap, feeling the hardness under his braies.

He moaned again, and his arms wrapped around her. She felt safe and protected in his embrace, and leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder. Then the sky became cloudy and a cool breeze picked up.

“You’re cold,” he said.

“I am,” she admitted.

He reached out for her cloak and yanked it upward, spilling everything in the process. He wrapped it around her body, never once letting go of her. With her head on his shoulder, he seemed to sniff her hair and she laughed, wondering what he was doing. “Are you – smelling me?” she asked.

“I’m remembering your scent. I will remember it always, no matter if we are far apart.”

Thunder rumbled in the sky and she scooted closer to him. He kissed her cheek and then her lips, and her eyes closed as she lost herself in the intimacy of what they were doing. Her body longed for him, and although she didn’t understand it, she felt she wanted to be with him – in a very intimate way. She moved and rested her hand on his hardened form, rubbing her fingers up and down his shaft right through his clothes, surprising herself by her bold, dark action. He was bringing out a side of her that she felt was getting harder to control.

“Oooooh, you really shouldn’t do that,” he warned.

“I want to,” she said playfully, and reached up and kissed him on the mouth again. It was odd, but his whiskers seemed shorter and softer, and even his scars didn’t protrude as much as before. “I want you,” she admitted aloud before she could stop herself from saying it.

Stefan’s eyes popped open, and his heart sang. Bonnibel said she wanted him, and that was music to his ears. But although it meant a lot to him, it still wasn’t enough. He remembered the witch telling him that lust and love weren’t the same thing, and he was sure right now what they were both experiencing was only lust.

“What else?” he asked, wanting her to say she loved him and break the curse.

“What do you mean?” It started to rain, and she jumped up off his lap. “Oh, my, mayhap we’d better head back to the castle.”

A raven cackled from a branch above their heads, and Stefan had all he could do to control himself and not throw Bonnibel down on the ground and have his way with her. He wanted her badly, but he knew he couldn’t couple with her before she professed her love for him. If he did, he might ruin the only chance he had of ever breaking the curse. So instead, he got up and collected up their things and helped the girl mount her horse.

“Bonnie,” he said, and she looked down from atop her horse. She wore her cloak and her head was covered to keep the rain off of her.

“Yes?”

“Did you – did you mean what you said?” He was speaking about her saying she cared for him, but she must have thought he meant the part about coupling.

“I got carried away. I never should have said that, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why?”

“Because I am a lady, not a strumpet, and I don’t want you to think any less of me because of a weak moment.”

“I think more of you for saying that. Thank you,” he said and turned back to mount his horse. When he did, he looked up to the tree. The raven was gone. Instead, there sat Hecuba in her black cloak, cackling and looking into her hand mirror.

Chapter 14

It rained the next day, and Bonnibel put off the trip to find her father. She’d spent the morning in her chamber and had just dressed when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she called, sitting at a small dressing table running a boar’s bristle brush through her hair and looking in the mirror. The door opened and in the mirror she saw Stefan step inside and then hesitate.

“I came to escort you to the great hall for the meal.”

“Thank you, Stefan. I’ll be right with you.”

He closed the door and she saw him shifting weight from one foot to the other, as if he were trying to decide what to do.

“Why don’t you come here and talk with me while I finish fixing my hair?”

“Where is the handmaiden to do that?”

“I told her I didn’t need her help. I rather like doing things for myself.”

“I see.” He walked slowly over to the dressing table and stopped just behind her. “Allow me,” he said reaching out for the brush.

“I don’t think this is proper for a knight.” She hesitated, but when he continued to hold out his hand, she gave him the brush.

“You have hair like fine spun silk,” he said, using his big, rough hands to ever so gently run the brush through her hair.

“Thank you,” she said under her breath, watching him in the mirror. He was at ease and doing a good job until he glanced up and realized she was staring at him. His eyes shot to his own reflection of his scarred face and all of the sudden the brush snagged at a tangle in her hair.

“Ow!” she said, and Stefan dropped the brush and took a step backwards.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“It was an accident,” she replied, and he put his hands on her shoulders and reached down and kissed her atop the head. She liked the feeling of the intimacy between them, and closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side as he started kissing her neck. A shiver ran through her and she felt herself warming under his touch. Then he stopped suddenly.

“Why do you always close your eyes when I kiss you?”

Her eyes shot open and her gaze interlocked with his in the mirror. His blue eyes held sorrow and depression and she realized she’d made him unhappy.

“I – I don’t know,” she answered. “It just happens.”

“I don’t blame you. If I were you I wouldn’t want to look at my face either.”

“Stop it.” She tied her hair back with a ribbon. “You don’t need to belittle yourself. It’s not becoming of a knight.”

“Most knights are handsome and pleasurable for a lady to look upon.”

“You’re not most knights, nor should you compare yourself to anyone else. Now let’s go to the great hall before they start the meal without us.”

She walked to the great hall holding on to Stefan’s arm, and didn’t miss all the surprised and disgusted looks from anyone who passed them in the corridor. Aye, Stefan wasn’t as handsome as most knights since he’d been so scarred in battle, but she saw something inside him that was better than most knights. She saw not only a kindness but also a true caring soul. That was something not easily found amongst men – be they knights, nobles, or laymen.

She sat at his side for the meal, and he was sure to give her the first cut of meat, and first drink from the goblet they shared between them. He was courteous to the servants, always nodding or thanking them, and they kept their eyes focused downward and away from his face. He also talked to his brothers in a caring and polite manner.

Then after the meal, the musicians in the gallery started playing a tune, but no one danced.

“They’re waiting for the lord of the castle to dance first,” she told him.

He was drinking from the goblet and stopped and looked out at the people in the great hall. “Go ahead, dance,” he told them with a wave of his hand. Still, they did not do as he instructed.

She pushed her chair back and stood. “I’d like to dance with you, Sir Stefan.”

“You would?” He put down the goblet and looked over to his brothers who were nodding their heads. “Why?”

“Because you are the lord of the castle and the people expect you dance.”

“I don’t dance,” he said and looked the other way.

“Are you afraid?”

His head turned toward her. “I’m not afraid of anything, and no one will ever accuse me of it.”

“Then dance with me and stop making excuses. Unless you don’t find the idea of dancing with me . . . pleasurable.”

“I do,” he said, getting out of his chair and holding out his arm. “Lady Bonnibel, I would be honored if you danced with me.”

“I would be honored as well.”

They made their way down the dais to the open area where the servants had cleared away the trestle tables to make room. Then, with all eyes on them, Bonnibel glided across the floor in Stefan’s arms. He danced as if he had been doing it his entire life. He was a gentleman, and even with his big, bulky body, he never missed a step.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” she said with a smile.

“It’s only because I have a worthy partner.”

His hand on her arm and then at the small of her back felt warm and she delighted in being Sir Stefan’s partner. She even managed to make him smile, and that was not an easy feat with a man like him. All was going well until a small child ran out and Stefan almost stepped on the little girl and ended up moving out of the way but lost his footing and ended up on the ground.

“Mama, there’s a monster,” screamed the girl and she started crying.

“I’m not a monster!” he shouted, and when he did, the red was back in the white of his eyes and his scars protruded. He pushed up from the ground, and when the girl’s mother came to collect her, grabbing her and hurrying away from him, he got even angrier.

“I would never hurt a child,” he said, and Bonnibel saw his chest expand. The hair on the back of his neck and on his knuckles grew longer and his blue eyes turned brown.

The little girl screamed again and that only made some of the other children frightened and they started screaming and crying as well.

“Mayhap we should go back to the solar,” suggested Bonnibel, but Stefan was shaking his head.

“I will go back to the solar by myself, but it is no place for a lady. You will stay here and dance with one of my brothers.” He hurried off without her and Bonnibel’s heart ached for Stefan de Bar and the curse bestowed upon him.

* * *

Another two days went by and since it rained continually, Bonnibel put off her search for her father for now. Instead, she’d been spending time with Stefan, and getting to know him more. His beast side was not showing as much as normal, and she swore he was starting to be more and more like just a normal man every day. She’d also been spending time in the secret book room, reading all the books she could get her hands on. It was an obsession with her and when she started to read, time just slipped away.

She sat in the secret room, looking out at the rose Stefan had given her that she’d put atop a table in the outer room. It hadn’t lost a petal in days now and for that she was glad. She didn’t want Stefan to die – or turn into a beast forever. He’d never really told her how to stop or break the curse but she had a feeling that mayhap there wasn’t a cure. He deserved a better life than this and it broke her heart to see him suffer.

Then she cursed herself for feeling this way since it was he who stole her father’s castle, and by right should be punished for it. Still, in her heart she couldn’t think of doing anything to hurt the man. She’d seen something in his eyes that told her he was a good man. That down deep, he wasn’t the horrid creature everyone thought him to be. But she knew nothing could ever happen between them. He was her enemy and she had to remember that.

Once her father returned, things would be different. Stefan couldn’t stay here. He would have to leave, or fight – and possibly be killed.

She turned a page in the Book of Hours, but stopped when a mouse ran over a shelf overhead, knocking over a vase. She looked up to see something odd behind the vase. It looked like part of the wall had a hole in it. She got up to get a better look and saw another book hidden away in the hole. It was a ledger of some sort but she couldn’t tell more since it was on the highest shelf. She climbed atop a chair to get the ledger, taking it down carefully. It was full of dust and she blew the dust off into the air. Sitting back down on the chair she carefully opened the book, surprised to see it was a false covering for another book that was hidden inside.

“What is this?” she asked aloud, taking the smaller book out of the shell it was in, being disguised as the ledger. She looked at the cover made of some sort of gold leather and ran her hand over it slowly. Then she stopped when she heard the door to the tower room open.

Taking the book with her, she exited the secret room to see Stefan standing there looking better than ever. He wore a bright blue tunic and was clean shaven. His wounds had healed nicely, and although his scars would always be visible, she didn’t focus on them and they didn’t bother her that much any more.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he told her, in a low, smooth voice.

“You knew I sneaked up here and that there was a secret room?” she asked in surprise.

“I know about the passageways, Bonnie. I have been using them myself. And I know about the room because Brother Andrew told me about it.”

“Brother Andrew? Do you mean your advisor – Sir Andrew?” she asked.

The secret door at the other side of the room opened, and a monk in a long dark cloak stood there. His hood was down and she could see his hair in a tonsure atop his head.

“Bonnibel,” said the man and for a mere second she was frightened. She recognized his voice. She reached out and held onto Stefan’s arm.

“The ghost,” she whispered, knowing this was the same man that had frightened her in the passageway the other day, as well as when she was a child.

“He’s not a ghost, Bonnie. He worked as a scribe for your father in secret. He is the one who scribed most the books in that secret room.”

“I don’t remember you,” she said, eying him suspiciously.

“You wouldn’t,” he said. “I always kept hidden at the request of your father. He didn’t want anyone to know about his secret room of books. Most of those books are worth a lot of money, and some of them I’m afraid to admit were stolen.”

“My father doesn’t steal. And I don’t believe he would be friends with someone who accused him of such a thing.”

“I was good friends with not only your father, but your mother as well,” the monk told her.

“I don’t believe it,” she said. “If that were true my mother would have told me. I don’t believe your story.”

“It’s true,” the monk protested, but Bonnibel just shook her head.

“Brother Andrew, since your presence here seems to be upsetting Bonnie, I’d like you to leave for now,” said Stefan.

“Of course, my lord.” The monk bowed his head, closing the door to the secret passage as he left.

“I don’t like him,” spat Bonnibel.

“Don’t let him upset you.” Stefan ran a caring hand over her back. Then he held out a velvet pouch to her and she looked at it in question. “This is for you.”

“What is it?” She put the book down on a table and took the pouch gingerly in two fingers, not opening it, afraid to look inside. He was giving her a gift? No man had ever done this before. What if she didn’t like it? Or what if it was inappropriate? How was she supposed to react?

“I don’t need gifts, Stefan.” Her hand trembled, and although she meant to hand it back to him, something made her hold onto it instead. He reached out and stilled her hand, and the immediate connection between them sent a feeling of comfort through her body.

“Need and deserve are two different things. You deserve this. I want to give it to you so you’ll always remember me.”

“There you go again, sounding like you’re leaving.”

“Nothing good lasts forever.” His eyes took on a sadness deeper than she’d seen before. Void of the life she’d witnessed in them the other day, now he just looked tired and drawn. “Open it,” he said with a pleading to his voice that she didn’t expect.

“All right, if you insist.” She reached into the pouch and pulled out a chain with a crystal heart on it. It sparkled in the sunlight streaming in from the open window, and within it she saw a faint rainbow. A rainbow of hope was present inside the heart.

“Oh, Stefan, it is beautiful!”

“I hope you like it.”

“I do. I love -”

“What?” His eyes snapped up and he stared at her intensely. “What did you say?”

“I was going to say I love the heart.”

“Oh.”

Why did he sound disappointed? This man was truly hard to read.

A moment of hope filled Stefan’s life when he heard Bonnibel saying the word love. For some strange reason there was that awkward moment when he thought she was going to say she loved him. He had hoped she was going to say the words that could break his curse. Then again, he wasn’t even sure if the words would work if the proper feelings weren’t attached to them.