Beast Lord: (Beauty and the Beast) (Tangled Tales Book 3) (11 page)

Chapter 12

The next day, Bonnibel had hoped to go back to find out more about the secret room with books in the tower, but before she could do so, there was a knock on the door. Sibeal wasn’t here this morning, but it didn’t matter since Bonnibel didn’t need a handmaiden to help her dress. She’d donned her gown and brushed her hair, and was wearing her hair long and down around her shoulders today.

“Who is it?” she called out. When no one answered, she went to the door and opened it. No one was there. She looked down to see a rose on the ground by her feet. It looked to be the same rose from the tower with a piece of parchment rolled up and tied next to it. She picked up the parchment, unrolled it and read it.

I am sorry the way things ended yesterday. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please join me in the tower for a bite to eat.

It wasn’t signed, but didn’t need to be. She knew it was from Stefan. Well, she decided she wasn’t going to go. She threw the parchment down and picked up the rose and sniffed it. One of the petals was loose and fell to the ground. When it fell she swore she heard what sounded like Stefan groan. The rose petal withered away to dust as soon as it hit the floor.

Sibeal approached just then. “Good morning, my lady. I was just bringing this tray up to Lord Stefan’s tower room, but perhaps you’d like to take it?” The girl smiled and handed Bonnibel a tray of food and then a decanter of wine. Bonnibel put the rose on the tray and grabbed everything purely out of reaction.

“I’m not going up to meet
Sir
Stefan in the tower. Why would you think so?”

“Because my mother found a missive rolled up on the kitchen butcher-block this morning and she said it was from you and you ordered food to be delivered to Lord Stefan’s chamber for the both of you to share together.”

“No, I didn’t.” Bonnibel put the decanter of wine on the tray and shifted it in her arms. “And how is it that your mother even knows how to read?”

“Oh, she can’t. She had Lord Stefan’s squire read it for her. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen. Now that Lord Stefan allows us to serve in the great hall, our work has doubled. Those soldiers and mercenaries are very hungry and don’t like to wait for their food.”

“Of course,” she said, pondering the whole situation. She probably wouldn’t have gone anywhere if it wasn’t for Trumble coming down the hall next.

“Oh, there is Lord Stefan’s food. Good. He is very hungry and very ornery this morning.” He took the tray from her hands. “Here, you carry the decanter of wine or I might drop it. I’m not good at balancing trays of food. Follow me.”

“Wait!” she said, taking the wine he pushed into her hands, and trying to stop him.

“I’d not make Lord Stefan wait if I were you,” he said, handing her the rose next. “After all, it was your idea to break the fast with him and if his food is late, he won’t like it.”

“My idea? No, it wasn’t.” She hurried after him with the wine decanter in one hand and the rose in the other.

“Sure it was. You left a note in the kitchen this morning saying just that.”

“Someone has it all wrong. I did no such thing.” Before she knew it, they were climbing the tower stairs, and Trumble pushed open the door and walked inside, almost dropping the tray of food. Stefan was standing at the window bare-chested and just wearing a pair of braies that came down to his knees. When he turned to look at her, his scars seemed more prominent, His face and chest looked hairier than yesterday, and he seemed tired and drawn.

“What’s she doing here?” he growled.

“Lady Bonnibel ordered a meal for you to share with her, my lord.” Trumble placed the tray on the table.

“I did not!” she protested. “It was Sir Stefan who ordered it and invited me to join him.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked, and that attitude bothered her after what they’d shared yesterday.

“I’ll leave you two to enjoy your meal and time together.” Trumble hurried out the door, leaving Bonnibel alone with Sir Stefan.

“I – I should be going too.” She placed the wine down, her eyes never leaving him. Then she placed the rose on the tray and backed up toward the door, not sure she wanted to turn her back on him.

“Then go, why should I care?” He sat down, banging things around as he prepared to eat the meal. “I don’t expect anyone to want to be with me, so why should you be any different?” He picked up a leg of mutton – an odd choice for such an early meal - and gnawed at it like an animal. That should have been enough to make her want to run, but when she got to the door she stopped. She took a deep breath and released it, still thinking about the kisses and fondling they’d shared yesterday. If she left him now, she knew he’d never want to see her again. She felt sorry for him, being cursed by a witch, and thought mayhap he needed a friend.

“You should care,” she told him. “After all, it isn’t very knightly of you to invite a lady to share a trencher with you and then tell her to leave.”

“I already told you. I didn’t call for you.”

“I didn’t order this either,” she said, taking small steps toward him. “But since we’re both here and there is food enough for two . . . mayhap I’ll just stay.”

She waited for his reaction, sure he was going to growl at her again or tell her to leave. But when he did neither, she slowly pulled up another chair and sat down across from him. Picking up the one goblet that would be shared by the two of them, she poured wine into it and handed it to him.

“Would you like some wine?”

He stopped gnawing at the mutton leg and laid the bone down on the platter, swallowed, and then wiped his hands in his braies. She almost cried out when he did it, but instead she just smiled and waited for him to take the cup.

“You first,” he said with a shake of his head. She didn’t believe he was saying this out of courtesy, and figured he might have thought she was trying to poison him.

“If you insist.” She raised the tankard to her mouth. As she drank, their eyes interlocked and she was instantly transported back to the thoughts in her head of the pleasure she’d experienced with his kinder self. She watched his eyes travel down her neck and stop at the base of her throat as she swallowed. “There, you see it isn’t poisoned, so you are safe to drink.” She handed him the goblet.

He reached out for it, and when he took it, his fingers brushed over hers, sending a tingling sensation flitting across her skin. Her eyes snapped up to his and she found him staring again. At first she felt danger, but the longer their gazes interlocked, the danger melted away and his brown eyes turned a brilliant shade of blue. A simple softness filled them. It was a tenderness that she hadn’t seen yesterday with her eyes closed.

“Thank you,” he said, and she released the cup, feeling the warmth of his hand go with it. So unlike a beast to thank her. She rather liked this softer side of him and only hoped it would last.

“So tell me about your curse,” she said, choosing a chunk of cheese from the platter and popping it into her mouth. He was raising the goblet to his mouth but stopped and looked at her with sullen eyes from over the rim.

“There isn’t anything to tell. I was cursed by a witch who delights in cursing all of the de Bar siblings.”

“Why is that?”

“Who knows why Hecuba likes watching others suffer. All I know is that she’s angry with my father and is trying to punish him through his children.”

“What did your father do to her?” She popped a grape into her mouth next.

He took his time drinking from the cup and then put it down softly although she expected his big hands to bang it down on the table.

“He made love with her and then left her.”

“What?” That surprised her. She’d seen the old hag and didn’t think anyone would want to touch the old woman she was so hideous looking.

“He didn’t know it was Hecuba at the time, of course.” He picked up a sweetmeat and popped it into his mouth. “He thought she was a beautiful young maiden since that is the disguise she took at the time.”

“So your father was cheating on your mother?”

He nodded slowly as he chewed. “It’s a man’s prerogative to have mistresses. You know that.”

“And if a woman has a man she isn’t married to, she is flogged, beaten, humiliated, and oftentimes killed. Why is that?”

“I don’t make the rules.” He picked up a hunk of bread and ripped it in half. “I have to be honest with you – I don’t agree with that and never have.” He handed half the bread to her.

“Really?” She took it, and this time she purposely touched his fingers with hers to see if he’d have a reaction. He did. She saw him shiver and close his eyes, and let out a slow, deep breath. “You are – very different from any man I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because I’m a damned beast. I’m not even sure I
am
a man anymore.” He threw down the bread and got up and walked over to look out the open window.

She didn’t want him to stop talking, and figured she needed to talk about something other than his curse. “I have two sisters,” she told him, taking another grape. “My older sister is Claribel who lives in France and is married. My younger sister, Oribel, is in Scotland and she is married as well. I’ve lived with them both at times ever since my father sent us away at the death of our mother.”

“Ummph,” he mumbled, and she wasn’t sure if he was purposely being rude, had indigestion, or just didn’t care.

“How about you? Do you just have your two brothers? Sir MacKay and Lord Kin?”

“Nay,” he said, not bothering to turn when he talked to her. He just kept staring out the window. “I also have twin brothers, Wolf and Arnon, as well as two sisters, Rapunzel and Cinderella.”

“Wolf?” she asked, questioning the odd name.

“He was cursed by Hecuba as well. Although his curse, unlike my brother Arnon’s, has not been broken.”

All the talk about curses seemed to be making him sad, and her heart ached to hear of his family’s troubles. She put down the bread, picked up the rose, and walked up behind him. Seeing his hairy back made her frightened. He truly did look like a beast, and if what he said was true, he might never have the chance of being a man again.

“I found this at my door,” she told him. He looked over his shoulder to see the rose and just groaned. “What is it about this rose that makes you so unhappy? I love flowers, and cannot believe how long this one is lasting.”

“It won’t last as long as you think, so enjoy it.”

“Is it yours? Is it the same one I put in the decanter of water days ago?”

“You keep it,” he said, reaching out and cupping her cheek in his large hand. “No matter how pretty you think the rose is, I think you are ten times more beautiful, Bonnie.”

“Bonnie?” She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.

“It’s a name that suits you. Or mayhap I should call you Belle. After all, I believe the word for beautiful in the Scottish tongue is
bonnie
and in French it is
belle
.”

“Yes, you are right,” she said, turning her head to lay her cheek in his warm hand. She talked to him with her eyes still closed. “My mother always told me I was a beautiful baby and that was how I got my name.”

“Bonnie . . . Belle,” he said in a seductive, low voice. His words didn’t hold the gravelly, gruff tone anymore, and neither did his palm feel as rough. She thought of her dream, and then of their time together, and wondered if he were going to kiss her again. She felt the slight rise of her chin as his hand tilted her face upwards, and she kept her eyes closed, not wanting this feeling to disappear. She couldn’t look at him in his beastly form because it frightened her. But if she just kept her eyes closed it would be all right. She felt his breath on her cheek as his face came closer. She envisioned him leaning forward with his long hair brushing against her shoulders as she was pulled into the warmth of his embrace. Then their lips met in unbridled, unspoken passion. She wanted more. She yearned for it – but it didn’t happen. His hand dropped away from her face and her eyes sprang open to see him looking across the room.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I think you should go now.”

“You do? Now? Really?”

“Please, Bonnie. I need you to leave.”

“But I don’t want to leave. We were just starting to get to know each other.”

“Mayhap at a later time. Now please go, and take the rose with you.”

She realized she was still holding onto the flower, and it was starting to droop. “But it’s your flower. I’ll put it in water for you.”

“Nay!” His command came out forceful and the whites of his eyes started to turn red. His beautiful blue eyes turned back to a deep, dark brown. She backed up a few steps, feeling frightened again. The softness she’d seen in his eyes earlier – that caring, understanding feeling had disappeared. Now all she saw was anger and irritation. She had hoped to see his handsome self and long hair like she had the other day, but all she could see was his angry face and the hairy body of the beast. He must have noticed her jump by his remark, because he lowered his voice and talked to her differently. “I want you to have the rose. It will be something to remember me by.”