and forever. You must become my chattel just like my horse or my dog. Is your brother worth such a sacrifice?”
“Yea, M’lord. I would agree to anything to save him.” Beauty’s voice trembled.
“And knowing I think of you as a possession, could you still do anything I ask freely and with affection as you said you would? Could you even begin to try to love me?” the Beast challenged her.
“M’lord, I give you my word.” Beauty broke away from his gaze and lowered her eyes, her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “And I meant it. I knew it would not be easy.”
For a long moment, the Beast made no reply. Silently, he studied Beauty with a guarded expression as he considered the situation. Against his will, the spark of interest she had ignited within him began to grow. What was it like, the Beast wondered, to bed a woman without terror in her eyes? Without knowing only her pleading and her tears? To have sex with a lass who wasn’t scared and begging for mercy?
Once he’d been at court and soon learned that even the town whores feared him when he sampled their crude wares. They put on a brave face when they saw his purse, but they plied their trade reluctantly and quickly, disappearing as fact as they could.
How could it feel, he wondered, to have someone stand by his side willingly? To have someone he could go to for comfort and companionship, even someone who would come to him for the same. Someone to spend the long winter evenings relaxing with him. Possibly even to have someone reach out for him with affection. Would it be wonderful? Was it even possible or was this just a woman’s trick? He debated whether he could release the boy without being seen as too weak and soft to rule. He decided that he could.
Without a word, he determined it was worth the boy’s life to find out what a willing, affectionate woman was worth. After all, he could always hang the rascal later if he changed his mind.
Keeping his thoughts and longings to himself, the Beast growled, “How could you promise to love me? Lass, you don’t know anything about me except for all the tales you’ve heard. All those wild stories of my cruelty.”
“Are they true?” Beauty asked softly, hesitantly. “Those reports of your cruelty, could they possibly all be true?”
“Most of them, the worst of them, probably are true. I am a very hard and harsh man,” the Beast answered coldly. “Anyway, it makes no difference, I will take you to my bed tonight and then you will know for yourself. But make no mistake, Lass, I will take you with or without releasing your brother, whether you want me or not. It matters little to me how you feel about it. If I’m the monster you believe me to be, can you still promise me your love?”
“I can and will love you, in a small way, for the saving of my brother’s life but ‘tis true it’s not the same deep, abiding love, filled with passion, that’s said to be found sometimes between a woman and a man. It’s not the romantic love that poets sing songs about. I, myself, do know that sort of love truly exists, as my parents felt it for each other, but I’ve never found it. I can, however, promise to give you my admiration, my deepest loyalty, my lasting respect, and even my real affection.”
Unexpectedly, the Beast hid a grin. “I note you didn’t promise to give me your obedience. I want one more promise from you.”
“What more can I promise you, M’lord?” Beauty asked shyly, still shaking. “The obedience I just now failed to mention?”
“Nay, I can assure your obedience without much effort on my part. Be defiant if you like, for a while. A small woman like you is pitifully easy to bring under control. I’ll even enjoy bending you to my will, if you can manage to make it into enough of a challenge. The last promise I want from you is this: I want you to swear never to see any of your family again, even when I tire of you and send you away or give you over to one of my men as a plaything.” The Beast had no faith at all in her promises and protestations of loyalty so he decided to test her, to push her as far as he could.
Bleak despair washed over her. It took a moment for her to manage to say the words, her voice was trembling and her throat seemed frozen shut.
“Yea, M’lord, I swear it,” she whispered in heartfelt anguish.
“Then, I’ll consider it,” he curtly replied. “Be quiet, wench, and let me think.”
Without realizing why, he felt compelled to goad her into backing out of her oath. To prove she was treacherous like all the others in his life had been, men and women both.
There was only one woman who had stayed beside him throughout his life. She was a young widow who once served as a maid in the castle of the knight he was fostered to. At the time she became his maid, she had just recently lost her young son, along with her husband, to the great plague.
The sad young maid, Gwyneth, had taken to the small boy she helped care for. In him, she saw only the loneliness that mirrored her own grief, not the budding cruelty of the Beast. She had mothered him tenderly when she could, but the knight of the castle and the Beast himself made it difficult. Now she was growing older, without a husband or children of her own.
She had returned with the Beast to his father’s castle when he was a grown knight. The Beast even heard rumours that Gwyneth had for a short time been his father’s mistress, as he had begun to recover from the death of his second wife. The Beast never knew or even cared if the rumours were true.
Still, she stayed with the Beast, following him to this castle. She worked hard, managing his castle and worrying over the man he’d become. Gwyneth was the only one who truly cared for him. She was also the only person who felt comfortable enough around the Beast to nag him, and even that was very rare indeed.
Everyone else had deserted him. They had all proven to be shallow and uncaring. If Beauty were to prove truly as loving and steadfast as she appeared to be, then he feared her instinctively, for she was a threat to everything he was raised to believe in. Still he had to know.
He gestured to her clothes strewn about on the stone floor. “Get dressed.”
“M’lord, whatever you decide, may I go to see my brother? Just to say goodbye since I will never see him again once he’s been hung,” Beauty choked out the last words and paused, swallowing several times and breathing deeply before she could continue. “Or, with hope, once he is freed and my promise to you takes effect.”
Beauty rose quickly and pulled on her shift and the loose dress with shaking fingers.
The Beast pondered for a moment then called for a servant, his eyes never leaving Beauty’s.
To her surprise, the servant who answered his summons was known to Beauty from the past. She was so upset that she couldn’t place his name at that moment but he was an older man, probably in his fifties. He was trim and spry with a handsome face, and he was surprisingly well groomed compared to most of the village people Beauty knew.
The servant was dressed in brown hose, a white shirt and a dark brown doublet with no trim. His simple clothes appeared clean and neat, and he seemed to have bathed quite recently, a rarity indeed. He showed no sign of recognizing Beauty, although she learned later that indeed he had. She also soon remembered that his name was Seth, and that he’d once been the personal servant to the old lord.
“Send for the maid, Gwyneth, to clean this girl up and get her in my bedchamber ready for me,” the Beast growled, ignoring the servant’s start of surprise.
He
