Beauty and the Beast (Faerie Tale Collection) Read online

  Lord Bellemount silently sat down against a tree, hidden behind bushes that allowed enough space between them to see and hear what was going on.

  “Cecelia?”

  “Yes?” She looked down into the wolf’s gaze and gently rubbed above his left eyebrow.

  “How does a man win your affection? I’m sure you have many men vying for you.”

  She laughed. “Have you forgotten my misfortunes? The ones that forced you to reveal all to Prince Alexander on my behalf?” She looked away and briefly winced. “There aren’t many men; there isn’t even one thanks to Lord Willington’s disapproval of me.”

  “Well, there is one, but you do not approve of him.”

  She glanced back. “Who? Prince Alexander?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head and grinned, dropping her hands. “But he does not count.”

  “You don’t consider him man enough? Is it because of his past actions toward you?—he told me everything.” Alexander quickly added.

  “Yes, perhaps. His actions do weigh heavily on my mind, but that is not what I am thinking of now—it has nothing to do with our history.”

  “Then what?”

  “Well, he was at my home because you asked him to go. He was not there because he cares for me. And even though he feels he is doing good by seeming to court me publicly, there can only be harm that comes of it.” She shifted her weight and leaned against one arm, with her legs tucked under her. “For eventually he will leave me, and then what will the villagers say to that? To be scorned by one man is bad enough, but to be seen as a mad game of the prince’s to play…” Her voice softened and trailed away.

  He should be celebrating her good sense and using this as his excuse to disentangle the prince from the picture, but he could not help but ask, “Do you like him?”

  Cecelia softly gasped. “I—I don’t know. I am trying so hard to stay detached and see him as a new friend, to get to know this person that he has appeared to become.”

  “Do you think you could one day?”

  “Like him?” she asked, stalling.

  Alexander’s heart was racing. “Yes.”

  After a few moments she said, “I think I need to learn to trust him first.” When the wolf did not speak again, she added, “I do trust that he means well, and I do trust that he has changed. Anyone can see that he has changed; there is a new inner strength that wasn’t there before. He’s calmer and happier now. But, I’m not sure he will stay this way.”

  He knew he should allow this to be the time when he took control of the situation and told her he would tell the prince to leave her in peace and allow that to be that, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he was shocked to hear himself ask, “What would you like me to tell him?” giving Cecelia the reins to decide the next course of action.

  To leave me alone. To never come back. To find something or someone else to pester and harass and pretend to be in love with. “I do not know,” she whispered.

  Alexander gulped and tried to control his heart. Nothing had ever meant more to him than the acceptance and forgiveness of a woman he loved greater than life itself. “Cecelia, do you think you could learn to completely trust and like him as time moves forward? And if he proves himself, do you think he could become something special to you?”

  “Yes.” Cecelia gasped again. “No, I meant no. Of course not!” She shook her head and fidgeted with her gown. “This is nonsense. None of this matters. He will never see me as more than a village girl and I will never fully trust anyone again.”

  “Never?”

  His gaze captured hers and held it for quite some time, before she answered truthfully, “I would give anything to learn to trust again, to know I am truly loved. Anything. But there are days I feel I will never become more than a silly girl in anyone’s eyes.”

  “He loves you.”

  “What did you say?” Cecelia could hardly hear a word over the pounding of her heart.

  “I—I said,” Alexander frantically searched his mind. “I have something for you.”

  “Oh.” Her face fell. “I thought you had said something else.”

  “What did you think I had said?”

  She waved her hand. “Oh, nothing. Something silly that made no sense anyway.” She quickly changed the subject. “So what did you bring this time? Another poem?”

  “Remember I mentioned earlier it wasn’t something you’d enjoy hitting me with as much as you would a book.”

  She laughed. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Well, if you look underneath that patch of clover over there you’ll find it.” He nodded his head, indicating where the gift was.

  Cecelia brushed aside the clover. “Good heavens! It’s stunning.” She very gently picked the necklace up. “Are you sure you meant this for me?”

  “Positively sure.”

  “Oh, I—I don’t know what to say.” She fingered the delicate gold rose that wrapped around the large red heart. I’ve never seen something more perfect in all of my life.”

  “Put it on, please.”

  She carefully clasped the gold chain around her neck and marveled at the weight of the heart as it lay against her chest. It was truly the most expensive and beautiful gift she’d ever been given. “What did I do to deserve such a token?”

  He shrugged and then said, “It’s an apology of sorts for betraying your trust in me.”

  Cecelia chuckled. “If this is an apology, I wonder what type of jewelry you’d give to someone you were professing your love to!”

  He grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, well, now—if I was actually professing my love, you could guarantee it would be something much grander than that.”

  “Should I be concerned where it is you’re getting such beautiful things from?” she taunted.

  “Good heavens, woman, I’m not stealing them. I have a home, you know.”

  She was intrigued, having never thought of him in a house before. “You do?”

  “Well, of course I do.” He sat fully up and teasingly looked down his nose at her with the accent of a Northerner. “How else do you think I’m so cultured and refined?”

  Cecelia laughed. “And handsome, you forgot handsome.”

  “Well, that goes without saying.”

  She smiled as she looked him over. He was an incredibly beautiful wolf. “Can I call you Apollo?”

  “You do know he was an inexcusable womanizer, don’t you? At least that’s what the legends of the Greek gods say.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I like it best, and I think it is a perfect name for you. Besides, a name is just a name. Because one man acting as such doesn’t hold true that another with the same name would. No, my dear beast, you shall be called Apollo.”

  He grinned. “And why does it matter so much if you call me anything at all?”

  “Why? So I can thank you properly before I leave, of course. I must head home soon, or I may be missed.” Cecelia raised herself up on her knees until they were nose to nose. “Thank you, Apollo. Thank you for everything.” And then she leaned up a fraction of a bit more, tilted his head down and kissed him right upon the forehead.

  Alexander’s heart melted.

  Frederick, however, was going to be sick to his stomach.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “CECELIA,” THE BEAST CALLED out as she crossed the brook.

  She turned, marveling at the way the moonbeams streamed all around him. He really did seem enchanted. “Yes?”

  “I have seen you for two days in a row; will I see you for a third as well?”

  She laughed. “I do not perceive how you could ever keep me away now.” Holding the necklace up she explained, “This, in a manner, bonds us, don’t you think?”

  “Indubitably.”

  “Good. Then I shall wear it at all times and think of you.”

  “Oh? And how shall you think of me?”

  Cecelia grinned and curtsied deeply before him. “My dear Apollo, with your great wisdom and supr
eme charm, I’m sure you are nothing less than a King in my eyes.” She bounced back up. “I will always think of you as the grandest friend I have ever had.”

  “Just don’t go spilling your secrets, or you’ll spill my blood.”

  “Precisely!” she answered with a chortle, and then, “Goodbye!” she called, her feet carrying her down the path back home.

  Alexander watched her go until he could not see her anymore, until not even the sound of her boots hitting the dirt or the swish of her skirts made it to his ears. And then he whispered quietly to the glistening brook, “You are already flying, my wingless bird, and you do not even know it.”

  The wolf smiled and hesitantly stood, shaking free the fatigue that had come across his form. There were a few more hours of moonlight left and he had yet to determine whether Prince Alexander would indeed show up on the morrow at the Hammerstein-Smythe house or not. He was just settling himself into a long debate over the matter, when his nose caught a familiar smell to his left.

  Frederick!

  Whipping his head in that direction, he flicked his ears, determined to find the cause of such an odd occurrence. If it was truly his cousin, then what was he doing out here in the woods at this time of night?

  He caught the faint sound of rustling and then the distinct smell of fear began to take its place burning its way through his senses.

  Lord Bellemount was here!

  Alexander’s sharp eyes could make out enough of his form through the bushes across the way to know exactly where the coward was hiding. What should he do? The prince’s first instinct was to ferret the weasel out and eat him for a midnight snack.

  However, since his cousin was in no doubt terrified at the moment and not stupid enough to flee, he figured he had some time to weigh his options. The beast walked forward and lied down on the forest floor about twenty feet from the culprit and decided to make sure Frederick’s anxiety levels rose a few more notches.

  And there they went.

  He chuckled as the fear smell intensified. As far as the wolf was concerned, he had all the time in the world to decide what to do about his devious heir. It was obvious he knew his secret, as well as what girl he was in love with. But what was his cousin planning to do with such information now that he knew it? This was the real question and something that would need some time to mull over, for if Alexander had learned anything over the past five or six months, it was that he should never make a rash decision simply based in anger, or he would live to regret it.

  He had to be smart. He had to consider all of his options.

  But what? And how? He began nuzzling his paw as if he were not there guarding Frederick and instead merely enjoying the nice night air. He could walk away and pretend as though he did not know his cousin knew as much as he did, hoping to follow and watch him on his own, when he had a better idea of the consequences.

  Or he could pounce upon him now and demand answers. Alexander smiled, then grimaced. Yet, that may not be the wisest course of action—though definitely the most satisfying—it would do nothing but guarantee Lord Bellemount’s anger later. He could not kill him on just suspicion alone. If he did that, he’d be no better than the monster he was months ago.

  There was one person to consider during all of this, and that was Cecelia. Her life, her happiness, her fragile existence right now was more important than anything at all. It was no secret her being was secure and happier with him than without. She needed him as much as he needed her.

  The issue with Frederick would have to be handled delicately so as not to disrupt the slight bond beginning to form between them. But, Alexander would make sure his cousin rued the day he decided to ever lay a hand on Miss Hammerstein-Smythe, monster or not, he’d kill him.

  ***

  It was several minutes of anxious terror and waiting to see if he had been caught or not before Lord Bellemount was finally able to let out a sigh of relief and allow his heart to stop racing. He peeked out of the bushes and watched as his cousin’s wolf form walk briskly away.

  That was close! Too close.

  He was sure Alexander had spotted him, but he must have heard something beyond the place where he was hiding instead. Talk about fright. Frederick had never seen his cousin look so intimidating before. It was downright disconcerting to see him appear like a large forest beast. But then to see him court the gel as an animal was unthinkable!

  He smirked. The dim-witted girl did not even know who she was talking to. That fact alone had to have been the most ironic notion there was. Simply laughable! How would Miss Hammerstein-Smythe feel if she knew her secret beau was in fact the prince she had always detested?

  Frederick sneered in glee. Perhaps he should toy a bit with this concept and see what humorous findings he could come up with. Imagine the spoke in his cousin’s wheel if all were to be revealed? For that matter, what would the villagers say to such a finding? Their dear sweet princely hero turned into a ravenous, beastly wolf at night.

  My, my, my…the world around Lord Bellemount became a whole lot brighter in an instant.

  It would seem he had some planning to do.

  ***

  Cecelia stretched and sighed as she awoke the next morning. The sunlight gloriously trickled through the window on shimmery dust trails, making it appear as if glitter were delicately dancing all around her.

  Today was going to be a perfect day.

  Giggling, she leapt from the bed and quickly donned a pretty white gown with blue and green trimmings. Then she slipped the necklace on and marveled once again at the weight of the thing. The dark maroon color of the red was simply beautiful against the white of her dress. She tucked the heart inside her filigreed-laced bodice, and turned from side to side within the looking glass, making sure it remained hidden from view. If her mother saw it, she’d no doubt conclude it came from none other than the prince himself and then she’d never hear the end of it.

  No, some things were better kept to herself for a short time longer.

  Cecelia had no idea why she had a sudden urge to be dressed and out of the house so quickly, but after hurrying through breakfast and her usual morning chat with Sanford, she allowed her maid to hastily pin her hair up in a quick bun, and securing her bonnet atop her head, she was out the back door before anyone had realized she’d gone.

  It was a bright warm day, full of sunshine and hope, and no need for her pelisse. She wandered through her mother’s rose garden deciding on a beautiful white rose to leave for Apollo, before scurrying down the path to her brook.

  She had a lot to think about and many conversations to go over from the past few days. There was definitely a change, some sort of excitement or buzz forming within her soul, and she needed to sort it out before she understood what was happening to her.

  Cecelia had wondered if she’d ever feel this way again, and yet here she was more giddy and happy than she’d been in weeks. If only she could put her finger on the exact cause, it would prove to be much more helpful. Why now the sudden change of energy and liveliness that seemed to spring from her? Why all the excitement? And who was it that was causing such a disruption to her daily oddities and notions?

  With the way her heart had begun to race at the thought it was someone, rather than something, worried her a bit. Because who had she met, other than the prince, the last few days? And she surely wouldn’t have allowed herself the silliness of falling in love with him, just because he was kind enough to pay her a visit.

  No, it had to be something else disrupting her altogether. Perhaps the wolf had a bit to do with it? It was no surprise he had definitely enhanced her joy and life altogether, but the fluttering within her was something she couldn’t quite place. There was a reason she was feeling this way, and definitely the brook was the only spot where she was bound to have the freedom and solitude to discover the answers.

  As she came upon the little stream, however, she was surprised to see she was not alone. In fact, if she didn’t know better, it would seem as if t
he prince’s cousin, Lord Bellemount was sitting in the exact spot her beast liked to sit.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JUST AS SHE WAS about to retrace her steps and come again later, Lord Bellemount called out to her.

  “Miss Hammerstein-Smythe, a word, if you please?”

  Cecelia halted, her fingers tightened around the prickly stem of the rose she was carrying. The last thing she wanted to do was speak with the arrogant Lord, but found propriety dictated she at least be civil. Dipping into a short curtsy, she answered, “I am unchaperoned at the moment, so should not stay. Forgive me.”

  She would’ve turned then, but he stood up and crossed the stream as he spoke. “Wait. Just a few moments of your time, nothing more.”

  She stepped back a few paces to keep some distance between them. It would seem it was no accident that she stumbled upon the man; it was as if he were waiting for her. Cecelia almost dreaded what it was he wished to speak to her about. The only connection she could find of his appearance, the only other person who knew of this particular spot was the prince himself, which would indicate he told him about her.

  Cecelia’s worst thoughts became reality when within the next breath Lord Bellemount unleashed his nastiness. Having had plenty of time over the course of the following evening during his walk home to devise this, he thought it only expedient he put his course of action into plan immediately. So as soon as he’d woken that morning, he had dressed and headed right for this little brook. Knowing if his calculations were correct, the gel would be approaching this place sometime in the morning to deliver her rose.

  When he saw her bounding down the path not some twenty minutes later with the coveted flower in her hand, he knew without a doubt this was going to be a very pleasant day. Without further ado, he grinned and complimented her. “My dear Miss Hammerstein-Smythe, first may I say indeed that my cousin has been utterly remiss in his exclamations of your charm and beauty of late.” He swept into a grand bow, his hand going from head to toe, taking in all of her person. “Why, look at you! The perfect picture of grace, and yet you would think by the way Alexander was describing you just yesterday, I was expecting something quite the opposite.”