Beauty and the Beast (Faerie Tale Collection) (3 page)

Groaning, she flew the cover off of her and sat up. This would never do. She simply could not waste another moment of her life sniveling over Lord Willington. Cecelia hopped down from the bed and paced around the room, acting more like a caged lion than a girl deep in thought.

She needed out. She needed air. Room to breathe. A change of environment. Peace. Something.

Halting to a stop, she reached over and grabbed her pelisse and bonnet from the small bench. Before she’d completely rationalized all that she was doing, she’d donned them both and threw the small blanket over her like a shawl for added warmth. Then as quickly and as silently as possible, she made her way down the servants’ staircase and out the back door to freedom.

The brook. She needed to get to her brook. It was the only thing that would calm her now. And she needed it more than she needed anything else in her life.

Her mother would kill her if she knew the danger she was placing herself in, but honestly, what could be out there? Everyone else was asleep. The only real danger she faced was the few night animals roaming the forest. But she was larger and scarier than any of them could be to her. The moon was high enough to light her path so she wouldn’t get lost. Besides, she could probably walk the whole trail to the little stream completely blindfolded she knew the way so well.

She was completely safe. More safe here than with her thoughts.

***

Prince Alexander shuddered at the transformation as he ran beyond the castle grounds, still not used to the agonizing pain of his skin tearing to make way for the wolf within him. Even though it had been about four months since he’d first been cursed by the witch, each night he relived the horror all over again. He’d hoped by now he would’ve become more used to the sensation, but alas, pain, pain, and more pain was all he ever knew.

Tonight was more agonizing than the rest, and to add to it time was running out. From what he could gather, he needed to find a girl to love him as an ugly wolf before the year was over, or he’d remain a beast forever. It seemed a hopeless cause. The witch was right; he was a monster, inside and out.

He didn’t always feel that way. After the first few weeks, every time he thought of the old woman he’d wanted to kill her all over again. How he hated her. But now, now it’d been so long, he’d begun to see things in a different light. For a prince, he wasn’t the best, and his kingdom suffered greatly for it. They needed a better ruler than some selfish brat to take over the throne when his mother died. They needed a strong, valiant man who loved them. His father, when he was alive, had been one of the best kings this country had ever had. It was not fair to either of his parents to have a son so determined to have his own way and destined to disgrace them both.

Since the transformation had begun, there were many nights where Alexander had tried to destroy himself. Thinking death was the answer, he was positive nothing could be worse than his fate. How wrong he was. Now he knew differently. Now he knew just how needed he was. And he hoped he had enough time to makes things right for his family, before his dreadful secret was out. He simply could not rule as a beast, but he’d hoped to help his cousin see the great responsibility and prepare him to take over the throne. There was less than eight months before no one would ever be able to see him again.

She was right, that girl—Miss Hammerstein-Smythe—he was different. He was very different. But it was too late.

Perhaps it was because he was thinking of her, perhaps it was because he really needed some solitude tonight, or perhaps it was because the place seemed magical, whatever the reason, Alexander found himself, as a wolf, at the same place he’d discovered the night before—the gentle brook.

Except this time he was not alone.

She had been weeping for quite some time. He was certain of it. In fact, he’d never seen the gel so at a loss before in his life. If someone were to ask him if she ever cried, he would not have hesitated to respond in the negative. Yet, here Miss Hammerstein-Smythe was crying as if her world had ended.

Did she often come to this place and cry in secret? She seemed so peaceful earlier today. Had something happened?

A surge of sympathy shot through him as he crept forward on silent paws to see if he could be of some comfort for her. He was just about to announce his presence when it dawned on him he might very well frighten her in his present form.

***

Cecelia felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. They were quickly followed by gooseflesh erupting all over her back and arms.

She was not alone.

Her ears picked up the gentle sound of the water trickling, as well as the midnight breeze rustling through the forest trees—nothing to alarm her. Yet, still the feeling she was being watched would not go away.

Cecelia wiped away a few tears with her left hand to distract her would-be assailant while surreptitiously gripping the thick branch lying just under her gown and out of sight. She’d collected it on the way down just in case a situation like this did arise. Her father had always reminded her to be vigilant and aware of everything around her. And after today’s earlier scare with the prince she wasn’t about to take any chances.

With her hand clutching the large branch, she slowly raised her head and took in all of her surroundings at once. Her eyes scanned the dark crooks and crevices of the trees around her. Whatever, whoever was out there, was right behind her. It was as if she could almost hear their breathing if only she listened more intently.

Cecelia’s father had always warned about danger and men who might try to assault her. She learned early in life the best time to fight off an attack was to do so immediately while the enemy was still catching their bearings and not fully certain of their plan. She had to be swift, strong and urgent in defending herself to guarantee they would flee or leave her alone long enough that she could get to safety.

If she wanted to catch them off guard, it was now or never.

Heaving herself from the ground in one rapid movement, she spun around, hurling her thick branch forward and forcing the wind from her throat in a loud guttural howl.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE LARGE BRANCH CONNECTED with its target perfectly.

In fact, Cecelia would’ve never believed her aim was so good if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. Watching the great animal flinch and drop before her was unbelievable! She’d actually struck the poor thing right upon its forehead. Who knew she had it in her? If only William could’ve been there to witness it. He’d never believe her now.

Her crowing and general self congratulations did not last too long though, for almost immediately the wolf began to moan and move about.

She grabbed the branch from where it had ricocheted after striking the animal, ready to flee or attack if she had to.

She didn’t have to.

For in that moment, the beast’s groans began to take on a different sound altogether. They were almost human-like and it was several seconds before Cecelia realized he was actually speaking to her!

“I’m sorry. Did you say something to me?” she asked, still unsure if she was imagining more than she was willing to admit.

“Yes,” he grunted.

Cecelia quickly crouched for the attack. “Did you just say, ‘Yes’?”

“Of course, I did.”

Stunned, she could not help asking, “Did you just say, ‘Of course, I’—?”

“Yes! Look.” The beast rolled over onto his hind legs and gingerly sat up as he spoke. “I know this may be a novel concept for you, but, yes, I’m speaking and, yes, you can hear me.”

Stepping back, she stumbled over a small boulder next to the water and caught herself just in time. “I-I don’t believe it.”

“Well, it’s the truth.” He stretched his paws and leaned back a bit, with a look of submission, so as not to alarm her more. “I’m not sure what else I should do to convince you otherwise, except speak. Though considering your reaction, I feel it may not be the best way.”

Cecelia slowly lowered herself to the rock, the green striped gown gracefully puddling around her. “But how?”

“How can I talk?” Alexander wasn’t quite sure what answer he should give that wouldn’t reveal his secret, so he evaded the question instead by rubbing his head against his front legs. “Well, it was much easier to communicate coherently before I was clubbed to death.”

A surprised chuckle escaped her lips. “It was a branch, barely a stick, and it only hit you once.”

“With quite some force, let me tell you.”

“Yes, well, what did you expect sneaking up behind me like that?”

Alexander grumbled, “I didn’t suppose you to be so acute, certainly.” He rubbed his head on his front legs trying to receive a tad bit more sympathy from Miss Hammerstein-Smythe. “Nor did I imagine your aim to be quite so faultless either.”

Sympathy did not come from Cecelia’s corner, she was too ecstatic and bewildered by the night’s events to fully comprehend what was happening, or remember her manners. “I know! I could not believe it myself! And then to watch you fall like that was mind-boggling.”

The wolf did not miss the excited glimmer in her eyes, or the fact that he’d never seen the girl look prettier. “Or mind-bashing,” he moaned in response, before lying his stomach fully upon the ground. “Either way you’d like to look at it, it hurt.”

“Did it hurt very much then?” She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees. “It looked like it was extremely painful.”

Alexander’s deep rumbling chuckle was foreign to his ears. He wasn’t sure when the last time was he had actually laughed out loud, but he was positive he’d never had the opportunity as a beast. “Honestly, I’d be more eager to answer that question if I thought you were asking out of sympathy and not crooning delight.”

Cecelia laughed with him. “I’m sorry. I should be more empathetic, should I not?”

“Definitely.”

She arched an eyebrow and grinned while coyly smoothing down her dress. “Yes, but how do I know all of this isn’t just a ploy to catch me off my guard so you can strike?”

If Alexander could have rolled his eyes he would have, instead he settled with a pathetic sigh and lowered his head to his paws. “Believe me, my dear Miss Hammerstein-Smythe, had I wanted to kill you I’d have done it way before you became aware of my presence.”

Her smile fell, and her face paled even greater within the ghastly glow of the moonlight. “Who are you?”

“What?” He raised his head, titling it to the side. He could smell fear in the air. “What’s wrong? What have I said?”

“How do you know my name?” Her skirts rustled as she stood up and began to inch away again, her fist tightly clutching the branch. “Who are you?”

He would’ve cursed out loud if he hadn’t been in front of a female. “I’m not here to harm you. I was thirsty and needed a respite when I came across a beautiful girl weeping—please don’t ask more, for I cannot tell you what you require of me. It is forbidden.” He remained lowered to the ground so as not to frighten her further. “All you need to know is that I am a friend, and I would like to help.”

Cecelia shook her head, unexpectedly terrified of the world. Her emotions were too raw from earlier, and trust was not a feeling she was willing to entertain at the moment. She certainly did not want to become reliant upon something that could prove to be a dangerous liaison in the future. If she’d learned one thing within the past several hours, she should never depend upon her instincts, for they would prove to be most undoubtedly wrong.

Her only hope was to now remove herself from the wolf as quickly and as far away as possible. Praying he stayed put and did not attempt to follow her, Cecelia curtsied and thanked the odd creature. “Your inquiries are most graciously received, but I must be gone now. It is very late and I am afraid if I stayed out much longer I would be missed.”

Alexander knew any hope of detaining her had passed. She was too distressed, and a sudden move on his part would only alarm the gel more. So he pretended indifference and laid his head upon his paws again. “Very well, you should leave then. It was nice meeting you.”

When she turned to go, he called out one last request, “However, if you do find the need to speak to me or would like a listening ear, I come into these woods every night. Leave a small token—perhaps a rose from your mother’s garden—upon that stone you were sitting on, and I will be sure to stay and wait for you.”

***

Cecelia never expected to see the wolf again. Her own world was centered on pleasing her mother and attempting to make the most of her crushed existence after Lord Willington. The last thing she needed was to create clandestine meetings with a beast in which she poured her remorseful little heart out and wept even more.

Instead, she focused her time arranging formal handwritten apologies to all of the guests invited to the nonexistent engagement ball and holding her head up high when those who wished to gossip about her, came as morning callers. Their purpose was to glean information to spread around the village, under the guise of consoling and pitying. It was indeed a sad reality for dear Cecelia, but there was no hope for it. Nothing would bring him back and what’s done must be done. She had to make do as best she could and suffer through it as many a young lady had before her, and many a young lady were destined to after her as well. For she was sure handsome young men would never cease to break hearts.

However, it was after a few trying weeks, and a couple of days in particular, where her mother proved to be too much of a nuisance, inviting William’s friends over as particular dinner guests to court her forlorn daughter—Cecelia had had enough.

She needed help, advice, something. Someone who could be on her side, someone who would listen to her and not judge or gossip or snicker…she needed a friend. And it wasn’t until that moment, after Lord Willington left, and after the world divided itself from her, did she realize she truly did not have any friend to confide in. No one who was there just for her. She was lonely and uncomfortable with the feeling.

Growing up she’d always been well liked and well talked about, now it would seem she was only well talked about. Without her father around as a buffer to life and to make her laugh and poke fun of herself as he used to, there were only her own thoughts to contemplate and peruse.