Читать книгу The Heart of The Beast: A romantic adult fairytale revealing how the power of love can overcome the hardest heart - Susan Kohler - Страница 8

Chapter One

Life in the small village had greatly changed since the day of the terrible invasion. Life was much more tenuous, survival more arduous, and death took many of the villagers through starvation and disease. The villagers were even poorer now than they had been before. Much of their livestock had been either killed outright in the fierce battle or stolen by the invading hordes.

The villagers had not been able to replenish their meagre flocks of chickens, geese and ducks. The herds of swine, goats and lambs had grown back a little but still remained greatly diminished. There were precious few cattle left in the herds. Virtually all the horses had been stolen or killed, so many of the villagers had to plow the land by hand.

It wasn’t just the lack of livestock. Nature had conspired with the invaders, it seemed, and followed the invasion with a few years of bad weather, at least for farming. There was precious little rain, and the summers were warmer than normal. The crops had been very poor for the past few years, not yielding nearly enough to replenish the village after the invasion.

Several other things had hurt the small village as well: The new lord had raised the rents to be paid by the farmers but he saw no need to do anything for them. The villagers worked so hard to pay the rents that they had no time to even begin repairs on any of the small huts they lived in.

Even the sanitation in the village suffered after the invasion. The old lord had ordered the village to be kept clean, a rule many of the villagers thought to be foolish in the extreme. Still, the village had been spared many of the diseases that scourged the countryside.

Now, with no one to enforce the order and the villagers working so hard just to survive, filth had built up in the village. All vestiges of the old lord’s sanitary rules were lost. The added waste and refuse had caused several diseases to sweep through the village, greatly decimating the population. Those who remained struggled to merely survive.

The villagers hunted for game in the forest but it was a very dangerous undertaking because poaching the lord’s game carried a death penalty. The Beast imposed the penalty with absolutely no mercy. Bodies of hanged men lined the road to the castle, even though the Beast periodically ordered them cut down.

Worst of all, the new lord believed it was his right to use the peasants as he saw fit. There were rumours of women being dragged to the castle on his order. Few returned, and they were greatly wounded, left with scars on their young bodies and their minds that never really faded.

Beauty, the defeated lord’s daughter, and her family had moved away from the village immediately after the invasion but wherever they travelled, life was extremely rugged. Poverty was rampant throughout the country. The new lord was rebuilding many things, but he had so far kept most of his efforts close to his own home. His reign was still new and tenuous, and he fought to establish control. Outlaying villages were barely noticed.

Although few in the small village knew the former lady and her family very well if at all, to them the small town still felt like home. They had roots there and a sense of connection to the past. In truth, they felt a sense of obligation to the villagers. So, even with living conditions as bad as they were in the village, the old lord’s widow and her family chose to return there to live as simple peasants.

They had some fear of the new lord. There were rumours about him. It was said by some that the surviving families of the conquered lords had been hunted down and slaughtered. Nonetheless Beauty’s family hoped the new lord thought them to be dead and would not look for them to be living in the very shadow of their old home.

It was a beautiful spring morning. The sky was clear and blue with just traces of soft, fluffy clouds. The surrounding hills were plush and green, and the crops in the fields were growing nicely, for the first time in years. There were a few lambs, young and frisky, grazing on a distant hillside. Even a few calves were nursing, but alas there were no playful foals. Wildflowers grew at the entrance to the forest, which abounded with deer, boar and other wild game.

Beauty surveyed her surroundings with a sigh. She loved this countryside and its splendour but there was always a slight tightening in her throat as she studied the huge stone castle that arose from the distant hillside, casting a shadow of dread over the entire countryside. Waves of emotions washed over her: Regret, longing, despair and resentment, even hatred. She shivered, although the day was much too warm for the uncomfortable way she was dressed.

She wore a bulky and ill-fitting dress, made of plain, thick, grey wool, with a high neckline and long sleeves. It was monstrous and unflattering, like all the dresses she was used to wearing. Along with the dress, she wore a long, heavy cloak and hood that covered her face, hair and body completely. Under the hood, her long hair was pulled back and crudely tied at the nape of her neck with a rough leather thong.

She hated the drab and concealing garb but she had no real choice in the matter. Her older brother, Tom, warned her constantly that if she let anyone see her, her unique beauty could be her downfall. She could fall prey to not only the crude attentions of the village men, but she might also be unfortunate enough to draw the barbarous lust of the Beast, the young knight who ruled as lord of the manor. Remembering the few times she’d seen the knight from a distance riding his great, black warhorse, she shivered again and knew her brother had been right.

Beauty sighed again, softly, and thought to herself, if she hid herself so completely, how would she ever find a man to marry? What man would ever notice her? Who could she ever meet? How could she ever fall in love? She had no idea where to even begin looking for a husband. In truth, she thought ruefully, she had no idea what station or rank of man she should consider since her family’s fortunes had sunk so low. Should she try to make friends with one of the peasant boys? Or should she try to find her life’s mate amongst the nobility? What about the displaced nobles?

She knew few men from either class, and the few that did know of her had never seen her without the bulky, concealing outfit which was hardly apparel destined to attract a man’s attention or arouse his passion.

It seemed to Beauty that she was doomed to a life alone, without a mate or children. She could face life without a husband, if need be, but she longed for children to love. Her resentment of the bleak future was yet another fault she placed straight at the feet of the Beast.

The village men she could handle, it was mainly to avoid the Beast’s odious attentions that she was forced to hide herself in such hideous garb, and it was because of him that she now had to work like the lowest field hand. Cursing the Beast under her breath, she smote the hard soil with her hoe.

The Beast ruled his newly acquired lands and peasants with absolute authority, dispensing his own form of law absent regard for justice, and wanting the smallest trace of mercy or compassion. Many men had been tortured or even hung after being accused of the smallest of crimes, and without the least question as to their guilt or innocence.

As lord, the Beast also truly believed he had the absolute right to take any of the women who lived in the village for himself or any of his men. If a woman belonged on his land, he reasoned cruelly, she belonged to him. Both of Beauty’s brothers had told her countless tales of the young and innocent women he had taken to the castle. Wild stories of young girls who were both scared and scarred when they were finally returned, battered and bruised, and they also spoke of bastard children left to starve or to scratch out life as just another peasant.

The most frightening stories Beauty had heard were of the girls who never returned at all. There had been too many of them since the Beast had come to be the lord of the land. Some of the village girls had run away, to be sure, but others certainly had not.

There were reports of mangled bodies found in ditches by the roadside or deep in the woods. They had been slaughtered, bloodied and broken before being left to rot. The corpses showed signs of great violence: Bruises, broken bones, rope burns and a multitude of knife wounds. Beauty knew of at least six young girls who had been found murdered in the last five years, all since the Beast had come to rule the castle. More were missing and never to be found.

Beauty even personally knew of a lass named Molly, no older than herself, who came back from a night in the castle after being beaten so severely that she’d been left crippled. Although she never spoke of what happened to her, it was widely known that she was taken to the castle by the order of the Beast. Molly later found out she was pregnant. In desperation, the lass had killed herself and the babe within her. Beauty’s older brother had been fond of Molly, had even thought of taking the girl as his wife.

Beauty sighed as she leaned on her crude hoe and rubbed the small of her back with one dirty hand. She paused, exhausted from the sheer drudgery of planting even a small vegetable garden in the rock hard clay, and reflected on the turn her family’s fortunes had taken. Once, Beauty and her family had lived a truly happy life and the future stretched out in front of them like a jewel just waiting to be picked up.

Now her father was dead and her older brother worked in the stables at the castle, slaving for the same man he held accountable for so much grief, both for his own family and for the rest of the villagers. He truly believed the Beast to be a monster. The monster who was responsible for poverty and desperation in the village, his own family’s downfall, and so many serf girls’ bloody and violent deaths.

Tom despised the Beast with his entire being and hated working in the monster’s castle but he well knew he had no choice in the matter. His family needed his meagre wages, along with the small amount they made from the crops that Beauty and his younger brother Nate worked so hard to eke from the land on their pitifully sparse farm.

Now, because their father was dead and their lives so filled with despair, their mother, once a beautiful and joyful woman was wasting away, desperately ill in her heart and mind.

For the sake of his family, Tom had swallowed his hatred and his need for revenge and taken the lowly job. Every instinct he possessed, to the deepest corner of his soul called for him to avenge the wrongs done both to his family and to the lass, Molly. Only the knowledge that to do so would not only further endanger his remaining family but also bring about their total ruination, stayed his hand.

At times, Tom hated himself, believing himself to be a weakling and a coward for not seeking his vengeance, but to Beauty he was a true hero for putting his family’s survival above his thirst for vengeance. Beauty well knew Tom still held need for that revenge in his heart, only waiting until the right time to strike out and destroy the Beast. She feared the day when Tom’s threadbare patience was finally worn through, when his iron control was shattered beyond all endurance. She feared that day for she knew its mark would mean the end of her brother’s life.

Beauty returned to her chore, bending her back into the slow, painful job of breaking up the hard clay sod with the hoe, reaching down occasionally to pull up a particularly tough weed. Hearing a faint cry in the distance, she looked up from her toil and saw her younger brother, Nate, running toward her through the fields. She smiled, watching the lad of fourteen years run with all the boundless energy of youth but when he stumbled and almost fell, Beauty knew at once, somewhere deep within herself, that there was grave trouble running along with him.

“Beauty!” Nate was gasping from his desperate run, tears streaking his freckled face. “Tis awful! The Beast is going to hang Tom!”

“What?” Beauty shrieked. “Nate, quickly tell me what’s happened.”

“The Beast has learned that someone’s been stealing from the grain in the barn. Two of the stable lads were accused and the Beast couldn’t decide which was guilty, not that he tried very hard.” Nate took a deep breath, trying to choke down his tears. “Beauty, he’s already had them both beaten and whipped to bloody pulps. Now they say he plans to hang them both from the castle gates at sundown.”

“No!” Beauty’s soul seemed to shatter within her and she screamed the single word as she dropped to the stony ground, sobbing.

“I’ve got to save him!” Nate choked out, his young chin trembling as he struggled to hold back tears. “Beauty, I have got to, but how?”

Instinctively, Beauty knew Nate had no chance at all of saving Tom. Terrified and grief-stricken, she tried to think. Before long, a faint thought came to her and a frightening plan formed in the back of her befuddled brain. She worked almost desperately to think of another plan. She tried to hide from the very idea, tried not to hear her innermost soul whispering the plan to her, but she knew deep in her heart there was only one chance to save Tom.

All her fears seemed to crowd at her, like a pack of wolves circling a spring lamb, and she wondered if she had the necessary nerve to follow through with her plan. She would need all the courage she could muster to do what had to be done but she could see no choice, no other course of action.

“No!” Beauty said firmly, gripping her younger brother’s arms. “There is no chance. You cannot hope to save him, but mayhap I can. Go to our mother. Stay with her and comfort her. However this ends, she will truly need both your strength and your support.”

“But Beauty, what will you do?” Nate sobbed, fearing the worst. “The Beast will never listen to you! He’ll kill you… or worse.”

“I have to try,” Beauty said, her voice sounding strangely calm in spite of the terror beating like a second heart in her breast. “It would kill Mother if Tom were to be hung. Go to her, Nate, and pray. Pray very hard for Tom and for me.”

“Beauty, you cannot go to the Beast. He’ll rape and murder you and still hang Tom,” Nate sobbed, giving voice to his inner fears.

“Mayhap Nate, but he would certainly murder you and still hang Tom. I have the better chance,” Beauty said sternly. “Remember how desperate this is; without Tom, you and our mother would surely starve. I have to go save not only Tom but all of you. Now honour my wishes and give me a kiss before you go to tend to our mother.”

When the boy opened his mouth to speak again, Beauty stopped him. “Promise me that you will not attempt to interfere or to rescue me, else what I am doing will be for naught, and the three of you will surely die along with me.”

The boy flung himself into his sister’s arms and both stood locked together for a long, timeless moment before he kissed her cheek and reluctantly left, headed for their primitive hut.

Beauty took a few seconds, drawing several deep breaths and watched Nate run home. She spent the brief time gathering her wits and courage before she resolutely began the long hike to the castle. She did not even think to take time to wash her face or to change into a clean, more flattering dress. In truth, if she had taken the time to do so, her meagre courage would have deserted her completely.

An all too short time later, she stood at the huge, wooden castle gate fearfully asking the fierce, grizzled soldier who stood guard there for a word with the Beast.

The guard leered as he looked Beauty over, noting her bulky, shapeless form and the dirt covering her hair, face and dress. “His strumpets dinna usually come here unless they’ve been dragged here. As a rule, they’re brought here with their hands tied behind their back and their shoddy clothes ripped almost completely off. Unless they’ve been tightly bound and gagged, the dirty sluts are generally kicking and screaming their heads off,” the guard sneered at Beauty.

“Then mayhap they’re not sluts but were in fact pure maidens seeking desperately to preserve their decency,” Beauty shot back, angered by the man’s callousness.

“Tis highly unlikely, but of no real import.” The guard snarled before he asked crudely, “Tis very strange for one of the local sluts to just walk up to the gate as ye did. Did the Beast summon ye?”

“No, but he will wish to see me,” Beauty replied with all her dignity wrapped around her like a cloak sheltering her soul.

“Just how would ye be so certain of that?” The huge man leaned over to ask her, his foul breath hitting Beauty in the face. “The master likes his sluts to be beautiful.”

For her answer, Beauty silently pulled back her hood, letting him see her face for the first time. Without another word or question the shocked guard admitted her and summoned the nearest serf to take her to the Beast.

Walking behind the skinny, young peasant, a youth Beauty recognized vaguely as the son of one of her neighbours, she was led through the cobbled courtyard. She tried to ignore the catcalls and crude remarks the knight’s men directed her way. She kept her head high but her eyes lowered to avoid stepping into any of the filth, mud and horse manure thickly scattered on the smooth, worn cobblestones around the courtyard. Silently, much too frightened to speak, she held her head erect as she followed the lad into the castle, into the very lair of the Beast.

In spite of the day’s heat, Beauty shivered as she was led into the great hall, a huge, drafty room with high stone walls, huge beams in the ceiling, and straw strewn on the stone slab floor. There were various carved wooden chairs around the sides of the room, some with dirty brocade seats. In the centre of the room there was a long wooden dining table with great long benches along both sides. There was plenty of room around the great table for servants to move around freely when serving the soldiers and guests who dined there. A smaller, more ornate table and two large, wooden chairs, both carved intricately and having padded brocade seats were set on a raised platform near the end of the room. Iron stands with candles and wall-mounted torches provided faint, barely adequate illumination. An empty fireplace took up most of the end of the room, next to a long, winding, stone staircase.

Tapestries sewn with great detail and care by the former lady of the castle were hanging on two walls. They depicted either hunting and forest scenes or Biblical stories. Seeing the tapestries brought tears to Beauty’s eyes until she remembered her quest. The youthful serf quickly left the hall and Beauty stood, quaking and silent, before the great warlord himself.

The Beast stood, still and distant, leaning casually back against the end of the great table. He seemed relaxed as his arms were casually crossed and one knee slightly bent, but instinctively Beauty knew his careless demeanour was deceptive. He was as ready for action as a wolf was ready to spring on its unsuspecting prey. Beauty well knew she was that prey.

He wore a plain, white shirt of soft linen; it was loose with a soft open neckline that showed his lightly furred chest and billowing sleeves gathered at his wrists. The shirt was long, hanging almost to the tops of his thighs, and a wide leather belt circled his waist. He had leather boots that reached his knees. The thick leather gloves he used for fighting and his brown doublet were on the table beside him.

Although Beauty had seen him from a distance, she’d never been close enough to the Beast to make out his features or even his build. Beauty was shocked down to her bones at the sight of him. The man who ruled the land with such brutality, wielding his power with an iron fist and legendary cruelty was not ugly. He bore no resemblance to the ogre or monster he was said to be. To the contrary, he was very handsome! Breathtaking!

Tall and well formed, he was very muscular, without a trace of fat. He had long deep chestnut hair pulled back at his neck. His eyes were a deep, vibrant green, although they were cold and emotionless. He had a surprisingly young face with firm even features, and such a full sensuous mouth that in spite of her terror, Beauty felt a quiver run down her spine, a quiver that was not entirely born of dread.

The Beast never even looked at her; he stood motionless, seemingly at ease, waiting for her to speak before he finally barked, “Who in hell are you and what do you want?”

“M’lord, I am the sister of one of the lads you propose to hang this evening, and I have come to ask for your mercy,” she replied with deceptive calm.

“Haven’t you heard, lass? I have no mercy,” the Beast said coldly. “The two lads are thieves and deserve to die.”

“I don’t believe you. They’re just two lads who were accused. There’s no evidence, there’s been no hearing. You don’t even know which one is guilty, or even if either one is. You are sentencing two innocent young lads to death. It’s not right.” Beauty’s voice quivered. “And my brother Tom is so young, barely more than a boy.”

“I am the sole judge of what is right. The lads are both over twenty, certainly old enough to know the penalty for theft is death and they will indeed both hang as I have ordered.” The Beast was implacable.

“But, M’lord, I know my brother well. I swear before God, he is no thief,” she said meekly as tears formed in her eyes and ran silently down her face.

“Your brother is naught but rabble and all the rabble steal or would if they did not fear me enough and that is why the two lads will make such a good lesson. I care not which of them stole from me, or even if neither of them did the deed. They will serve me well as a warning of my justice and that is reason enough for me to hang them.” The Beast looked at her for the first time noticing her covered face and bulky, dirty clothes. “You’ll have to give me a better reason than your cries and protests that he is innocent to persuade me to show mercy.” His eyes raked insolently over her body, concealed as it was. “A much better reason.”

Beauty dropped to the floor and sobbed aloud for a while before gathering her wits. In an act of desperation, she reached out a hand and grabbed the Beast by his ankle.

“Please M’lord, I beg you. I will do anything, I will give you all that I have to save him. I need him, else my mother and younger brother will starve and also… ” her soft voice faltered, “I love him. What can I do?”

The Beast sneered at her pleading, but he reached down and pulled her roughly to her feet. “Love? What is that but a soft women’s word? I have never known of love and I do not believe in it.”

“You’ve never known love? Not even from your parents?” Beauty was so shocked she forgot herself, looking him straight in the eyes for a quick moment before lowering her gaze and adding, “M’lord.”

The Beast thought of himself as a very private man who had long closed himself inside a wall as thick and solid as those enclosing the castle grounds, and nearly as impenetrable. In truth, deep in the core of his soul, he hungered with an ache he would never acknowledge, even to himself. He hungered for just one person to see past the stern warrior to the man buried deep inside.

To be certain, he was not thinking of the peasant girl before him as that person. He thought of the girl as being worthless, of no more importance or intelligence than one of his dogs, but she was the first person ever to pose such a question to him, and almost against his will he answered her truthfully, surprising even himself.

Mayhap a dam broke deep inside his soul releasing a flood of buried emotions or mayhap he was angered by the nerve of the girl and just wanted to let her see herself as the weak fool she was, speaking of wasted emotions like love and mercy.

“I very seldom saw my parents when I was an infant,” the Beast scoffed. “From what I’ve heard, they hired a nurse to care for me. If care is what you’d call it.”

“What do you mean, M’lord?” she asked quietly, sensing that he was telling her things he had never spoken aloud before.

Beauty felt a pain coming from within this proud man and knew she had to tread lightly, not letting him see any trace of sympathy. Sympathy that he was sure to take as pity or weakness that he could use to his advantage.

“The nurse kept me swaddled. I was bound so tightly I could barely breathe, or so I’ve been told, and left hanging from a nail on the wall in filthy rags until I was thought old enough to begin learning to walk and talk. I remember naught of it, of course, but whilst I was in the King’s guard I learned that most infants are cherished and well cared for.” The Beast paused and shrugged, “It probably did me no harm, and mayhap it even strengthened me.”

“And when your parents felt it was time to begin teaching you?” Beauty prompted, heartsick at this tale of abuse.

“All my memories of my parents are the lessons I learned from their fists or their whips. Is that love? Sometimes, if they were too tired or busy to whip me properly when they thought I needed punishment, they had their executioner do the task. A man known far and wide for his brutality. Is that love?” the Beast sneered, not even fully realizing why he was telling her this story. “They fostered me out to another knight for training at the age of seven. He beat me even more often than they did; was that love? I was told constantly that to show any hint of mercy or tenderness would make me seem weak and foolish, that I would be judged not worthy to be a warrior, a knight, or to rule a castle such as this. The lesson was beaten into me daily. And since I’ve grown up I’ve seen the truth of their teaching. I have seen naught to change my mind. I’ve seen the hopelessness of life and the cruelty of war, and I’ve known men so depraved as to make me seem a weakling, but I have never, ever seen love. I do not believe it exists.”

“You have seen love, M’lord. You see it now. It’s standing here, now, before you, begging with you,” Beauty said proudly. Then she paused and lowered her voice, “I fear you as I have never feared any man before. I have been raised hearing tales of your heartless cruelty, and I have known of women who have been brought here against their will. They’ve been murdered or killed themselves both before and after submitting to your cruel and lustful attentions. They died in pain and disgrace. With all of that, and knowing full well the risk I take, I stand here offering you anything I can give to save my brother. Is that not love?”

The Beast did not let her see that a touch of her reasoning had struck a spark deep within him. A trace of wonder and a hint of admiration for her courage.

“Why would any woman kill herself after I honoured her with my attentions?” the Beast puzzled out loud, ignoring the shock that threatened to ruin his composure.

Could it be true? Gathering himself, he shoved off the uneasy feeling. Certainly spending a night in his bed, even by force, was not enough to cause a woman to take her own life in despair. What disgrace could there be in pleasuring the lord of the castle?

“It’s only a wild story, made to frighten young girls into obedience. It can not be real.” He then asked bitterly, “Who told you these tales of my cruelty? I should have him hung as a traitor!”

Beauty saw the trap but knew not how to avoid it.

She dropped her head and whispered softly, “Many have said it, M’lord, tis common talk in the village.”

“Including your brother?” the Beast asked quietly; he was no fool.

“Yea, M’lord,” Beauty admitted softly, her voice barely a whisper. “Including my brother. He is the one who suggested I dress like this to avoid catching your attention.”

“I gave him a decent job and a chance to earn a little money to help his family. Does that not warrant some loyalty? Why should he spread these tales to you? ‘Tis nigh treason? You have not helped his cause by telling me thus,” the Beast roared.

“There was a lass in the village who he was fond of, he might have even married her until you… took her,” Beauty said meekly. “She was a virgin.”

“It is my right to claim the maidens. What harm did that do? She could still marry your brother.” The Beast was unconvinced.

“She was beaten so badly that she was crippled when you let her return to the village, M’lord, and soon found herself to be pregnant with your child.” Beauty met his cold stare head on. “My brother still would have wed her, I think, but she killed herself in despair. Please, M’lord, understand that he did not tell me these things to be disloyal to you but because he fears for me, that I might meet a similar fate.”

“Yet you stand before me, having come here on your own accord, offering yourself to me. What would he think of that I wonder?” the Beast taunted her. “Would he be pleased that you offer to give yourself to me?”

“He’ll know why I did it, and understand, I pray, but he will still be furious.” Beauty swallowed before she continued, “And I will be, in truth, eternally dishonoured. If I can save his life, it will be well worth the price.”

“And will he not try to take vengeance for you?” the Beast sneered and wondered aloud. “Against me? I would, for a sister well loved, if I believed in love at all.”

“He will not. I swear it,” Beauty said steadily. “I have a mother and a younger brother for him to protect. He would not abandon them or put their lives at risk to save me.”

The Beast paced the room, agitated at this glimpse of the girl’s mind. Finally he paused, tamping down his fury before continuing, “What exactly are you offering? For all your fine talk, so far as I can tell, there’s nothing at all about you to interest me in the least.”

Beauty silently pushed her hood back, letting him see her face for the first time. She reached up and pulled the leather thong, releasing her dirty but long, flowing hair.

The Beast stared at her, amazed and stunned. He struggled to maintain his icy demeanour, to hide his disconcerting reaction from her. Beauty was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, at least her face was, even covered as it was with dirt. She was young, maybe eighteen, barely more than a girl, and seemed very petite. She had clear blue eyes, perfect cheekbones, a generous mouth with even white teeth, smooth clear skin and thick dark blond hair.

The Beast found his voice and snarled, “You’ve been working in the fields too long, lass, and you are very dirty. Indeed, right now you look more like a plough horse in need of a good grooming than a lass I wouldst bed, but I will admit you could clean up passably well, and your teeth do seem to be decent. Now drop your cloak and let me see if there’s a body worthy of my interest under all that wrapping.”

Beauty was torn between being insulted, defiant and afraid. Her eyes flashed as she struggled to hold her tongue and her mind worked feverishly to figure out if she was helping her brother at all or hurting his cause. Slowly, her eyes down, she removed the heavy, concealing cloak, dropping it to the floor.

The Beast was no stranger to a woman’s charms so he could tell that she had a stunning figure beneath her loose, bulky dress. Her breasts were very full and round for someone so slender. They stood out proudly against the rough material. He was amazed and more than a little angry that she’d been hidden from him. After all, she was his property!

He decided to get a little revenge. It would be fun to see how long it would take him to shatter her spirit. Even through the dress, he noted her shaking legs and wondered if she would even last out the night.

“You still have too many clothes on. For all I can tell you have no shape at all,” the Beast snarled. “I said disrobe.”

“M’lord!” Beauty blushed.

“Is not your brother worth it? What did you think would happen when you offered to do anything to save him? Didst you think I would leave him go without demanding payment?” The Beast was without mercy, leaning into her pale, ashen face as he finished with deadly quiet. “Without seizing payment from your body and your very soul?”

“I am more than ready to do anything you ask of me to save my brother’s life,” Beauty replied softly as she slowly struggled to remove her clothes with numb fingers. “But, M’lord, I am an innocent, a virgin. No man has ever seen me undressed or touched me. I admit I’m afraid of you, yet I will do whatever you ask if you will but free my brother.”

“You will do whatever I ask of you whether or not I free your brother.” That it was a statement of cold, hard fact, and not a threat made the utterance even more chilling. “If I wanted to bed you in the shadow of your brother’s hanging corpse, you would obey.”

She gave a soft involuntary gasp at his bitter statement. She had undressed down to her soft shift and knew it offered no protection from his piercing eyes. She stood still before him, her erect nipples clearly outlined against the thin fabric, eyes down and knees shaking. The Beast looked her over, noting the firm thrust of her breasts, the curve of her tiny waist and the soft flare of the hips. His eyes skimmed down and he realized that her legs were long and well formed. She seemed flawless. He felt himself grow hard with desire.

“The shift too, if you think your brother’s life is worth it,” he growled roughly.

Without a word she slowly slid the straps of the shift off her shoulders, letting it fall gently to the floor. She raised her eyes, staring straight ahead. Naked, she stood before him, looking proud and unafraid. It was a sham; although she appeared outwardly calm, inside her stomach was roiling, and she struggled hard not to faint.

The Beast knew well how to read the tension in her face, the slight clenching of her jaw, the furrow between her brows. He knew the effort she made to appear calm and felt a faint hint of admiration for her courage. Knights had shown more fear facing him than did this lass.

He tamped down the admiration and sneered cruelly, “Why should I release your brother? You are mine anyway, and I can have you anytime I want. I should hang your brother for trying to hide you from me, and if I could do it twice, in all likelihood, I would. God’s truth, I should have you whipped for hiding yourself from me but I’d hate to mar that silky skin before I had a chance to touch it. You were very foolish indeed to come here. Now, go upstairs and prepare yourself. I’ll attend to you shortly, after I have hanged your brother.”