the previous evening, instructed a servant to take me directly to my bedchamber after I had bidden my father a quick farewell, and watched with strange detachment as he loaded two brimming trunks onto his coach. These were gifts from the Beast, who instructed that they be filled with treasures for my father to take away with him. It calmed and pleased me to imagine my family’s delight when opening those trunks.
I did not stir from my bedroom during the remainder of the night, sleepless though I was. I pondered the end of my old life during the long hours of that quiet night, and even into the next day as I drifted from room to room, examining everything at leisure, without seeing a single soul about the place.
Supper was announced with the tinkling of a bell, and it was there that I once again encountered the Beast. Despite his gruesome appearance and gruff voice, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was, in fact, a gracious host, and we passed that first dinner with pleasant conversation and food and drink that delighted the palate.
As soon as the meal was concluded, the Beast rose from the table, surveying me with his dark eyes for a moment before asking, “Will you marry me, Beauty?”
I stared at the Beast in utter astonishment. What was I to do? Though my heart was hammering a loud warning of caution not to anger the Beast, I somehow managed to whisper, “No, Beast.”
The Beast merely nodded bleakly, saying, “Very well, then,” in a tone that indicated he had expected my reply, and he abruptly left the hall.
Relieved that I had not provoked the Beast with my refusal to his preposterous request, I too left the dining room to retire for the evening.
Have I forgotten to describe my bedchamber? Do not think it is because the room was not worth mentioning, for it was, and continues to be, the most beautiful room I would find in this elegant castle.
When first entering the chamber on the previous evening, I was too preoccupied to take much notice of my surroundings. On this night, however, I darted from one thing to the next, examining the wonderful array of objects that had been placed there for my pleasure, until at last my eyes beheld the extraordinary bed upon which I was to sleep. Along its towering posts it displayed, in great detail, the carved images of wild animals, spiraling along the edges and seemingly moving upward until, at the top, there sat a beautiful man with a crown. I knew not the meaning of the exquisite carvings that lanced that wooden frame, but gazed attentively at them nonetheless, for their beauty was not lost on me in spite of my humble upbringing.
Beside the bed an enormous bouquet of no less than one hundred fragrant pink roses stood placidly in an oversize vase that had been set on the bedside table. And, upon my word, from that day forward I was never to enter my chamber of an evening without finding an equally remarkable display of freshly cut flowers beside the bed.
The bedding was every bit as magnificent as everything else I had feasted my eyes on that day, and a shiver of pure delight ran through me as I slipped between the sumptuous silken sheets. It was such a pleasurable feeling that I was momentarily tempted to remove my nightdress. Instead, I ran my hand slowly across the bedding. My senses were rapidly becoming engulfed in exotic sensations amidst the influence of such luxury.
I was startled out of my enchantment suddenly when there came a light rapping on the door of my chamber.
“Who’s there?” I inquired, sitting up and clutching the silk sheets about my neck.
“It is only I, your servant, the Beast,” came the gentle reply.
His manner was as reassuring and appealing to me as his appearance was frightful. “Do come in,” I said, more at ease.
The Beast opened the door to my bedchamber but did not step over the threshold. Through the dim light of the hallway, I could clearly see his physical outline, which would have been terrifying if not for his gentlemanly demeanor. I waited for him to speak.
“I only wished to inquire if all was satisfactory, My Lady,” he said, remaining just outside the doorway.
“Satisfactory?” I echoed, suddenly amused. “Good heavens, no! I would never in my wildest imaginings have dared to describe these accommodations as ‘satisfactory.’” I smiled happily at my little joke, as I flung the extravagant bedclothes aside, and reached toward the nightstand to light the lantern.
The Beast remained silent and stared at me as if stunned. Upon seeing his expression, I realized my flippant reply must have insulted him and immediately tried to put matters right.
“Oh, Beast! What I meant to say…well, of course every thing is quite satisfactory. Why, it is more than satisfactory! That is what I meant of course.”
But something was terribly wrong. It was as if the Beast had not even heard me. Without thinking I leaped from my bed to approach him as I made another effort to explain. But I only managed a few steps before freezing in horror.
Had I heard a growl? My mind reeled between shock and disbelief. It was impossible! And yet, his eyes had a most unnatural glow. He stood perfectly still, like an animal that is poised for an attack.
“Beast?” I whispered, as much a plea as a question.
And then all of a sudden he was gone.
I stood there many moments afterward, trying to collect my shattered wits. I glanced down at my trembling hands, and it was then that I noticed my dressing gown. It was completely sheer, from head to foot! The lantern I had lit only served to emphasize my nakedness beneath the cloth!
I did not see the Beast again until suppertime the following day. There, he was as gentle and refined as I had remembered him being at the previous meal we had shared. I blushed and shivered whenever his eyes met mine, but he never gave any indication that he noticed, or that anything had transpired that warranted such an attitude. His demeanor eventually lulled me out of my suspicions and fears, and I was once again at ease, and even enjoying his conversation and friendly manner. Afterward, he stood up and asked me the same question he had asked on the previous night, and the one he would ask every night thereafter.
“Beauty, will you marry me?”
To which I always replied, “No, Beast.”
Our friendship blossomed. And yet, every noise I heard from within my bedchamber at night would leave me anxious and sleepless, waiting breathlessly for that light tap on my chamber door.
But the Beast never ventured near my bedchamber again.
It was I who, unable to sleep one evening, stumbled across the Beast’s private chamber while wandering toward the library in search of something to read. I heard a noise, much like a groan, coming from the other side of his door as I passed. I stopped abruptly.
In a moment or two I heard the noise again. I knew immediately it was the Beast and was seized with compassion for him. Was he ill?
Without further thought I knocked on his chamber door. Moments passed and I knocked again.
“Go away,” I heard the Beast say at last, in a pleading tone.
“I shall not,” I replied determinedly, “not until I have seen that you are well.”
Silence again.
“Please,” I implored, knocking again. “Just open the door and let me…”
“Go
