Beauty and Her Vampire {Watty Awards}

BAHV (Part 4)

2012 © Sonia Bartlett

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Part Four

     As the sun fell over the horizon and her room was bathed in darkness, a tear fell from the bridge of Arabella's nose. She smothered her face in the soft silk blanket, unwilling to move.

     It was heavy footsteps thudding swiftly along the corridor that finally galvanized her into action. Her heartbeat leapt in fear and she rushed to the door, locking it and throwing the bolt just as the footsteps stopped.

     A fist pounded against the door thrice and the wood rattled in its frame.

     "I thought I told you to come down to dinner!" Arabella stumbled back a few steps in fear as the unforgivingly severe words sliced through her.

     The voice was rough and gravely in anger but it was the underlying danger in the words that alarmed her the most. This monster had killed thousands of women - some her own friends - and she would be no different.

     "I-I'm not hungry," she stumbled out, looking for an excuse to placate him. She feared to arouse his ire and yet she would not willingly open the door and bare herself to him.

     "You come out now or I'll break down this door!" Arabella was no fool - she knew what the beast was capable of. Yet blind fear froze her in place.

     Then an unfamiliar voice murmured in a low tone, "Master, I could be wrong but that may not be the best way to win the girl's affection..."

     Affection? That, that monster wanted her affection? If she was not frozen in terror, she could have but laughed! Surely it was a mistake?

     "Please, at least attempt to be a gentleman," Conn pleaded. Gentleman? Was this some form of a jest? As if a monster could be such a thing!

     The beast's voice was low, but the threat was still prominent in his tone when he spoke. "Will you come down to dinner?" At least the door did not rattle on its hinges with his thinly-veiled request.

     It was only the half-hope that with his servants there beside him that he would not do her immediate harm, that Arabella gained the courage to deny him.

     "No! Not after what you did to me!"

     "You cannot stay in there forever!" he roared.

     "Yes I can!" she threw at him, emboldened by the three inches of wood between them.

    "Fine! Then go ahead and starve!" The reverberations through the door from his snarl made Arabella fall back against her bed. In a barely modulated voice he spat at the servants, "If she doesn't eat with me, she doesn't eat at all!"

     And with that, his footsteps crashed away down the hall, leaving Arabella to calm her frantic heartbeat, lest it beat right out of her chest. A moment later a door down the hall slammed and the very walls seemed to tremble.

     After what seemed like an hour, Arabella finally moved from her spot where she'd weakly leaned against the large bed to collapse in one of the chairs beside the small table. She folded her arms and lay her head sideways on them, too exhausted to do more than look at the moonlit grounds before her.

     Rolling hills and trees led to a forest line surrounding everything the eye could see. It painted a dark, almost sinister picture and yet there was something almost ethereal about the view.

     A knock on the door startled her. For a moment she wondered if the beast had come back, but then Mrs. Scott called out softly.

     Arabella stood slowly and walked over to unlock the door and let the woman in. The sight of a friendly face peering up at her kindly undid the tenuous hold she held on her emotions and a light sob escaped her lips.

     "Oh, Dearie, it's okay," Mrs. Scott reassured her. Holding out a hand, she led Arabella back to the chair she'd recently vacated. She set down a tray of tea with a plate of food on the table and gathered the sobbing woman into her arms.

     "He don't mean any harm, Arabella," she murmured soothingly. "He just doesn't know how to-" The older woman faltered at that.

     "How to what?" Arabella whispered thickly. "Talk? After what he has done to me I never wish to see him again!"

     "But the master's really not so bad once you get to know him." Arabella turned her head from the woman's searching gaze. "Why don't you give him a chance?"

     "But I don't want to get to know him! I don't want to have anything to do with him! All I want to do is go home to my family!" she cried.

     Mrs. Scott let the argument fall, instead gesturing to the tray on the table before her. "Have a nice cup of tea dear, and some food." She turned to the bureau and opened the top drawer, extracting a pretty golden brush.

     "But I thought he said-"

     "You nevermind that, Dearie," Mrs. Scott assured her. "It'll be our secret." 

     With that she began brushing out Arabella's dark mahogany locks until they shone. She then began to weave them into an intricate braid, all the while chattering about her son, Kit, and his antics.

     When Arabella had finished she begged Mrs. Scott to go, claiming she was tired even though she had done little else but sleep these past two nights. The housekeeper nodded agreeably, taking the empty plate and cup with her.

     Once alone, she sighed in relief. In truth she was very grateful for Mrs. Scott for being so kind to her, but she needed to be alone right then. Standing, she walked over to the wall of windows and lost herself in the otherworldly scene before her.

    It might have been minutes or hours later when she blinked and turned her gaze down. A dark, hulking shape disappeared into the line of woods closest to her window. She gasped. Had it been the beast? Had he been watching her?

     Shaking off such foolishness she noticed a dull gleam of metal at the bottom of the farthest window. Crinkling her brow in confusion, Arabella crouched down to find a small lever. Pushing it to the side she gasped in shock as part of the window became loose.

     With a slight shove a section as long and tall as her arm opened before and the sweetly-scented wind swathed the room in coolness. Breathing deeply, Arabella felt a sense of peace and wonder overcome her. Standing, she walked over to the bed, determined to be up early in the morning.

     She now knew no savior had come for her. It was, indeed, the beast who had taken her. This filled her with a sense of terror and, strangely, acceptance. She would die. Be it tomorrow, the next day, or the next it would happen. Maybe even tonight as she slept.

     If not for one thing, she would simply lie down and accept her fate - perhaps even by provoking the beast so as to not prolong her suffering. But one thing stopped her: her mother's belly, even now swollen with child.

     A wash of unhappy memories flooded before her, almost overwhelming her until a strong gust of wind blew in through the open window. It reminded her of silk and moonlight. Crawling under the soft material she made a low sound of pleasure and slept.

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