Beauty and the Beast (Faerie Tale Collection) (13 page)

“Your highness,” they chorused and nodding a quick bow left Alexander alone with his cousin.

Lord Bellemount’s eyes were huge as the prince walked over and removed the gag. Then just as Frederick was about to speak, Alexander swung back and slammed his fist into his cousin’s jaw.

Frederick howled and rubbed his reddening jowl on his shoulder.

“If you so much as look at Miss Hammerstein-Smythe again, I will do much worse.” Alexander leaned over the chair and grabbed his collar. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

His cousin nodded, the sting of the punch watering his eyes.

“My father taught me that violence was never the answer; however, if you harm her in any way—or even offend her nose with your smell in her very vicinity—I will resort to extreme violence to deal with you. I. Have. Had. Enough.”

“Wait!” he whined. “You know it was just a lark, something for a laugh. You know I would never—”

“A lark! A laugh?” The prince yanked on his shirt. “You call falsely accusing me of degrading the woman I love, to her
face
, a lark?”

“I had no idea!”

“You had every single idea of sabotaging our relationship!” He shoved his cousin away and took a couple of agitated steps around the room and then turned. “What I want to understand is why. Why would you do this to me and to her? Why, Frederick? Why risk your own possibility to become prince, for this? Are you out of your mind?!”

“Prince?! You were not going to give me the throne if you married her!”

The room went silent.

Water dripped from somewhere very near, but the barrels of fruit and shelves of cheeses warped the sound enough to not be able to locate it.

Alexander sighed. “So this is why you followed me the other night?” He put his hand on his waist, flipping his coat aside. “This is why you sought to destroy the first good thing I have ever had in my life. Because you were
jealous
?”

“Do you blame me?”

“Yes, you fool! Until tonight, I would have had no choice anyhow. The throne would have been yours—relationship with Miss Hammerstein-Smythe or not, I could have never ruled as a wolf!”

“I do not understand your meaning. I have watched you change into a wolf, but what has that got to do with anything? Other than your subjects thinking you were peculiar.”

“About six months ago, I came across an old ugly woman, whose stench was among the most pungent I have ever beheld. And like all of the other times in my horrid existence up until then, I laughed at her and belittled her. There was no one else on the path except her and me, but I felt it was my right as prince to tell her to remove her hideous personage off the castle property.

Frederick laughed. “Sounds like something you would say.”

“Something I
would have
said. Not now, not ever again, hopefully.” He ran one hand through his hair. “Unbeknownst to me, the old woman would change my life completely. She was a witch, and in her grave anger, she transformed me into a beast.

“She told me I had one year, where every night I would turn into a wolf, but the stipulation to remove the curse was I had to find a girl to fall in love with me as the wolf, not as the prince. If I could not achieve that impossible fate, then I would forever become a beast.

“I had given up. I knew what a monster I was personally, and did not believe any woman would fall in love with me as a hideous animal, so was ready to abdicate the throne over to you. Then once my year was up, I could transform fully into a wolf and go into hiding, while you ran the affairs of the country. However, all that changed tonight when, as Cecelia was leaving, she announced she was in love with me—the wolf me. I immediately transformed into the prince she despises—my appreciations to you—but she’d already left by the time I did.”

“Just a moment, so Miss Hammerstein-Smythe has no idea the wolf she loves is gone? And will never return? And she has no idea that wolf was you?”

“No. None at all.”

Frederick rubbed his lips together for a moment before clarifying, “And she does not like the prince, correct?”

Alexander glared. “I would not bring that point up often, if I were you.”

Lord Bellemount smirked. “It would seem you find yourself in quite a pickle, cuz. What will you do about it?”

Alexander did not trust the look upon his face, part sneering, part vengeful. “The only thing I’m going to do currently,” he leaned over placing a hand on either side of Frederick’s shoulders, “is guarantee you do not leave this room until I can decide what country to ship you to.”

“What?” Lord Bellemount whimpered, “You can’t do that. Not now, not—”

The prince placed the gag back over his mouth. “I have no reliance in you, and I never will again.” He whispered in his ear. “You, my nearest relation, will not be recognized by me and mine anymore. You as of this moment are stripped of your title and you are very fortunate I do not have you hanged for treason.” He pulled up and looked him in the eye. “Do you understand, Frederick? It is over; you will not bother myself or the woman I hope to make my wife again.”

With that said he called the guards in and placed them completely in charge of his brainless cousin. “I will deal with you tomorrow, Frederick. Goodnight. May you enjoy your cool slumber.”

Alexander brushed thoughts of his cousin aside and took the stairs two at a time as he began to plot his plan of attack. He had one very lovely young woman’s heart to claim and declare it to be his forever.

The prince smiled. It would be quite the challenge, knowing Cecelia’s temperament and gumption, but it would definitely be worth it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

FREDERICK WORKED ON HIS bands all night long. After he had complained about the bright candles while trying to sleep, the guards were quick to put them out, leaving the cellar black enough to untie himself in silence without anyone being the wiser. It took about three and a half hours of constant tugging and pulling, but he was finally able to get one hand free. Then it was a matter of minutes before the second one, and then the legs. By the time he had tiptoed past the guards and made his way out the servants’ entrance of the castle it was nearing four o’clock.

He rushed out of the grounds before the servants began to wake. Already the faint stirring of smoke could be seen rising from a few of the chimneys. Figuring he had a couple hours to get home and packed before his own family woke up.

Once there, he raided the family reservoirs of money. He loaded one small purse full to brimming of their hidden stash of fortune, as well as packing in a separate bag a few of his favorite odds and ends; books, trinkets and the like. Rushing to the kitchen, he managed to pilfer some cheese and a loaf of bread Cook had just brought out of the oven, while her back was turned. Then as an afterthought he grabbed the kitchen knife as well. Saddling his horse, he placed everything into the larger-sized traveling pouches that sat on its haunches. And then he was gone, racing toward a house that looked very similar to Miss Hammerstein-Smythe’s home.

He had one more visit to make before he left this country forever.

Indeed, it served his cousin right for treating him as he did. If one was to be punished as a criminal, one should at least have the opportunity to act the villain first.

Frederick smiled.

The glorious sun was high enough to begin streaming over the hilltops, washing everything beneath it in a glow of serenity. The birds chirped happily above as he rode and the smells of summer were in full bloom all around him. Truly, there could not be a more enchanted day if he’d planned it, an absolutely perfect day for destroying one lovely gel.

***

Cecelia awoke to a strange splattering sound upon her window. It took a few more moments before she comprehended someone was pelting small stones upon the glass. With an eerie feeling, she slipped on her robe and opened the curtains. Peering down into the small courtyard below she was surprised to see Lord Bellemount awake and dressed, especially at this hour!

“Miss Hammerstein-Smythe, I need to speak to you immediately,” he hissed. “Could you come down and meet me in the rose garden? It’s a matter of most urgent importance.”

Cecelia’s heart tightened and sank. Something was not right. Her arms began to quiver and feel heavy. Undeniably, something was not correct in this invitation at all, as if her soul were pleading with her to stay where she was. She knew this feeling—dread. And could not shake it enough to come down and meet him, no matter how important the message. “I fear I cannot. My maid will wake.”

An unexpected flash of anger flew across his features. “No. You must come down this very moment. It is of great import that I deliver this message now.”

The feeling of trepidation grew stronger. Her heart began to race. He was not in a healthy state of mind. No manner of inducements he urged would allow her to risk the safety of her home to face him below. “Leave a message at the door, Sanford will deliver it to me, and await my reply.”

Frederick was livid. He had hoped to lure her into the rose garden where he had placed the great kitchen knife under a bush, but the dim-witted girl would not come to him.

Just as she was about to close the windows he frantically searched his mind and whispered in great urgency, “It is about Prince Alexander. He has killed the wolf!”

Cecelia’s heart jolted to a halt as she flung the windows open wider. “What did you say?”

“I know about the beast you have fallen in love with. Alexander was wild with jealousy when the wolf told him about you and had him slaughtered this very morning.” When he saw her face he added, “Oh, it was torture to hear his howls of anguish. They were so loud and so tortured, I’ve never experienced such sounds of pain from a beast before.”

“No!” Huge gulps of air did not help her lungs prepare for the onslaught of utter hopelessness and destruction she felt. Her hand flew to her mouth and travelled on its own accord all over her face, her brow, her chin, her neck, trying to make sense of the horror she was hearing.

“He urged me, on his last dying breath, to send a message to you. He loves you! He told me so himself!”

She could not speak, she could not function.

“Please, come down here. I must tell you everything.”

“Yes, yes,” she whispered in numbed shock. “I’ll be there in a trice.”

She closed the window, then the thick curtains, allowing her room to be swallowed up in darkness. As if in a trance she threw a dress at random over her nightgown, slipped her feet into some sturdy boots, fetched her woolen cape and snuggled it tightly around her and then promptly fell upon the bed.

Her life was over. There was nothing left for her now.

Deep aching sadness enveloped her and a dull buzzing began in her ears, cocooning her from the world and all of its horrors below. She laid there for several minutes, never giving another thought to the anxious Lord waiting for her.

It was after some time, once she began to imagine the wolf in agony, his howls filling the sky—his last words of her—that the bitter tears began. She was done. She was broken. There was nothing anyone could do to save her from this grief now.

It was over.

***

The prince had meant to go immediately to Cecelia and proclaim all, but when he was informed of the escaped convict, he spent the day scouring and searching for him. Every servant was on hand to look for Lord Bellemount—and several hired villagers as well.

At Bellemount Manor it was discovered he had been there and taken off with most of the family fortune and treasures. Alexander traced his trail as far as the village, and then to the docking yard. He felt a sigh of relief when many people had spotted him boarding a ship that was just about to set sail.

“Stop that ship!” he shouted loud enough to be heard over the noisy dock. “By order of the prince, I command you to halt that vessel and allow me onboard. You are harboring a prisoner of mine.”

It took several minutes for the crew to lower the anchor and situate the plank again. Once on the ship, Alexander wasted no time issuing orders for every available hand to search for his wayward cousin. His own men shouting and searching along with the crew as he went below, the smell of the sea was strong and seemed to permeate the polished wood as he walked along a narrow hallway and began to search several rooms.

“Yer Majesty! Yer Majesty!” hissed one of the shipmen beckoning to him as he walked out of yet another room bereft of his cousin, “I believe the man yer lookin’ fer is hiding in that there cupboard.” He pointed to a small door at the end of the hallway. “I saw him run in there with me own two eyes after the ship began dockin’ again.”

“Thank you.” He nodded to the man and rushed to the door, pounding sharply before swinging it wide open. Frederick was indeed inside, barely squeezed amongst the rags, brushes, buckets and lye soap stored around him. Without wasting another moment, he yanked on his cousin’s collar and hauled him out of the cupboard into the hallway with one swing of his arm.

“And where do you think you are going?”

“How did you find me?” Frederick’s voice shook as his hand clutched the handle of the knife behind his back. He may be frightened out of his wits but he was definitely not afraid to do something about it.

“I have my ways,” answered the prince as he began to drag him back toward the stairs.

As soon as Alexander had given him a clear opening, Frederick took his opportunity and lunged the hidden knife into the prince’s side.

Alexander went stiff from the shock. Then like an accordion he began to sway and stagger, folding into himself as one shoulder collided with the wall.

Lord Bellemount felt his throat tighten painfully as Alexander’s hand fisted around his collar, cutting off his air supply. The prince slowly slid down the wall taking his cousin with him. Frederick frantically clawed at the fabric and fingers trying to loosen and regain any fraction of air he could. Alexander’s fist was iron and could not be pried apart and the fabric was too tight to catch hold of.

Shouting could be heard off at a distance and Frederick could make out the short, painful gasps of the prince. As they slipped the last couple of feet, his head thunked against the floor and the world around him began to grow blurry. His last thought before disappearing into oblivion was that at least the prince would die with him.