Beauty's Beast(23)

“Kristine, wait.”

She hesitated, her hand on the latch, her whole body quivering with the effort to hold back her tears.

“Kristine, what do you want of me?”

“I want to be your wife.”

Trevayne stared at her back, noting the tremors that shook her, the slender shape barely visible beneath her gown. “I don’t understand.”

“I want to share your life. I cannot abide living the way I do. I feel like a prisoner. Oh, the castle is lovely, and the servants are kind, but I have no one to talk to, nothing to occupy my time. I’m so lonely.”

She had mentioned that before, he mused, but he had not really listened. “Go on.”

“I want you to take your meals with me. I want to go riding with you when you tour the estate. I want to . . .” She paused, and he saw the telltale flush climb up the back of her neck. “I want to sleep beside you.”

She wanted the impossible, he thought bleakly. She wanted a normal life, but he could not give her that. He closed his eyes, remembering his vow to get her with child, then leave the castle, to end his life when she had borne him an heir. Selfish lout that he was, he had never taken her feelings into account. What would it hurt, to spend a little time with her, to keep her company if that was what she wanted? He refused to acknowledge he wanted it, too, refused to admit that his solitary existence was slowly choking him to death. . .. Ah, death, it loomed before him, shining, beckoning, the only hope he had to end the curse that was slowly robbing him of his humanity.

He took a deep breath, let it out in a slow, pain-filled sigh. “Very well, Kristine, it shall be as you wish.”

“You mean it?” She turned around, her green eyes sparkling with hope. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Thank you, my lord husband.” Smiling shyly, she took a step toward him. “Will you not tell me why you wear a mask?”

“No. You have told me what you want. Now I shall tell you my terms. You will never again ask about the mask, and you will promise to respect my privacy in this matter.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

“I shall do my best to be your husband in every way, but I cannot stay the night in your bed.” He lifted a hand to still her protest. “I do not wish to sleep with the mask on,” he explained. The hours of darkness were the only time he was free of it; he could not sacrifice those hours of freedom, not even for her. “If you wish, I shall stay with you, in your bed, until you fall asleep.”

She nodded, hoping her disappointment didn’t show. She had thought she might be able to sneak a look beneath the mask while he slept, but he had neatly forestalled the possibility.

“Very well, I agree to your terms.” Kristine held out her hand. “Will you join me in my bed, my lord husband?”

It was too soon. He needed time to adjust to her demands. “We will start our new life together on the morrow, Kristine.”

“As you wish, Lord Trevayne,” she replied. “Sleep well.”





Their new life started the following morning. Mrs. Grainger stared at Erik, obviously stunned by his presence as he entered the dining room.

“Good morning, my lord,” she said when she had gathered her wits. “Will you be dining with Lady Kristine?”

He nodded curtly as he sat down at the head of the table. He had avoided his servants as much as possible since he had started wearing the mask; had not eaten a meal downstairs in four years. He was aware of Yvette’s furtive gaze as she hurried to set a place for him, of Nan’s wide-eyed stare as she poured him a cup of tea.

“Good morning, my lord husband,” Kristine said as she swept into the room. “Did you sleep well?”

“No,” he replied candidly. “Did you?”

Twin flags of color rose in her cheeks as she lowered her gaze, her reply a barely perceptible shake of her head. She wondered if he had spent the night tossing and turning, as she had.

“Will you take me riding this morning?” she asked, determined to draw him out, to make him talk to her.

“I had planned to spend the day going over the household accounts,” Erik replied, his voice cool.

Kristine glanced away, but not before he saw the disappointment in her eyes. He did not understand her, he thought. Why did she want to be with him? For all that they were man and wife, she knew nothing about him, would be horrified to know what kind of monster sat at the table with her.

He picked at his food, unable to enjoy the meal while she was watching him. It had been years since he had taken his meals anywhere but in the privacy of his room. He was acutely conscious of his mask. With its silk so lightweight, he managed to forget its presence from time to time. But not now, with Kristine sitting across from him, with the housemaids sending furtive glances in his direction each time they entered the room.