Belle was in town the next morning when saw Adam Villenueve again. He didn't seem to have noticed her, and upon seeing the grim expression on his face she decided against calling out to him. He was headed towards the home of Monsieur D'Arque, and Belle knew all too well what that entailed.
"Is that Adam?" whispered her friend beside her. Her name was Fifi, although she was nicknamed Plumette after the large and colourful feathers she always wore in her hats.
"It is," Belle confirmed. "He's back in town to deal with his father's estate, I believe. I met him last night at Cogsworth's."
"He's grown handsome, hasn't he?" Plumette remarked with a grin, bumping against Belle's shoulders as they walked.
"Plumette, please." Belle rolled her eyes.
"I'm just observing! You know I only have eyes for Lumiere."
"You might think to keep some of your observations to yourself," she teased.
"I was thinking of you, actually. I haven't heard any news of Monsieur Villenueve being married, and I definitely didn't see a ring on his hand."
"Plumette!"
"You've always wanted to see the world, and look, here comes a handsome young rich man with no wife and no ties to this town. And you already like him! Or you did, when we were young. It seems like a good match to me."
Belle shook her head. "I'm not looking for a marriage for the sake of marriage, Plumette. If I get married, I want it to be for love."
Plumette smiled at her friend. "You don't think you could love Monsieur Villenueve?"
Belle felt her face grow warm. "I didn't say that. I just... it's been so many years, Plumette. And there's so much going on in town right now. I'm not focused on that at the moment."
"You might want to start considering it," Plumette said in a low voice as she noticed another man approaching them. "At least it would ward off men the likes of him."
The man was Gaston LeGume, one of the hunters from the village. He was well established in the village, as well as tall and handsome, but his narcissism and poor manners had kept him from being married. Gaston was too caught up in himself, however, to realise that it was his personality that kept him single.
"Mademoiselles Beaumont and Laurent!" Gaston greeted. "Fine morning, is it not?"
"Monsieur LeGume," Belle greeted with a polite smile. "It is a fine morning, indeed."
Belle and Plumette linked arms and started walking diagonally in the hopes that Gaston would get the hint that neither woman was in the mood to talk to him. Gaston did not get that hint.
"I heard you had to bury your sheep yesterday," Gaston said, addressing Belle. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Sheep, Monsieur LeGume?" Plumette asked. "Mademoiselle Beaumont and her father raise horses, not sheep."
"Ah, yes, horses. Of course," Gaston laughed. "Regardless of the species, I'm sorry you had to lose two of your livestock."
"Thank you, Monsieur," Belle said, giving him a tight-lipped smile. She had found that being cordial and short with Gaston was the best method of dealing with him. Too conversational and he would talk for hours, too impolite and he would take offence- and talk for hours anyway. "Luckily we still have several others, and the two we lost weren't our strongest."
"Good to hear it. And don't worry about the rest of your horses, I know that me and my men will find whatever beast has been causing all this trouble before long. We're right on its trail," he said confidently.
"I'm sure," Belle responded. She wouldn't dare mention the fact that these attacks had been happening on and off for years without Gaston or any of his hunting party even spotting whatever had been responsible. Gaston was a man who longed for the glory days of his younger years, and everyone in town knew not to challenge that. People either avoided questioning him, or they enabled him. His gang of hunters were the latter, always encouraging and bolstering Gaston and his narcissism.
He had fought in two wars for France overseas before a knee injury took him off of the battlefield. Now he walked with a slight limp, and occasionally used a cane, but that hadn't slowed him down in the slightest. He was just as athletic and capable as ever. Belle didn't want to admit it, but he and his hunters were very skilled. They always brought back good quality meat, and the whole village bought from them.
Gaston looked over Belle's head, his attention captured by something behind her and Plumette. Belle turned to see what Gaston was looking at only to recognize Adam strolling towards them.
"Monsieur Villeneuve! Welcome back to the village!" Gaston greeted. He spoke in a friendly voice, but his tone had shifted to a more cautious one. The way Gaston spoke to the men in the village, especially the other young and unmarried men who he deemed as threats, was very different to the way he spoke to women.
"Good morning, Mr. LeGume," Adam greeted back. "And Misses Beaumont and Laurent, as well." He tipped his hat at the two women.
"It's good to see you, Monsieur," Plumette smiled at him. "How was your journey here? I understand you came a long way."
"We were just speaking of the beast," Gaston interrupted. He continued, not noticing Plumette's annoyed expression. "Have you heard the stories yet?"
"The beast?" Adam asked, his eyebrows raising. He seemed amused.
"There have been several animal attacks over the past few years," Plumette quickly said, explaining before Gaston had a chance to. Gaston frowned at the interruption. "And always under a full moon."
"A full moon," Adam repeated with half of a laugh. "Is the village under attack by a werewolf, do you think?"
"It is," Gaston said. "I've seen it myself."
Belle looked at him with wide eyes. That was the first she'd heard of that.
"You did?" she asked. She broke her own private rule of never asking Gaston a question, but she was too curious not to ask.
Gaston straightened up slightly, looking smug at the fact that Belle had taken interest in something he had to share. "I did, indeed. On the last full moon I was out with my men trying to track this beast down. We tracked its steps all the way up to the old manor. I shot it, right in the chest, but it rose up and sprinted away before my men or I could get another shot in."
"What did it look like?" Plumette asked.
Gaston grinned, baring his teeth. He was clearly enjoying the attention. Belle had always found Gaston's smile a little unsettling. It was similar to the way a predator would smile at its prey in the wild. It wasn't helped by the fact that he had large canine teeth, resembling fangs.
"It was like a wolf, but it was all wrong. It hunched over and walked on its hind legs instead of on all fours like an ordinary wolf. It was smaller than most wolves I've seen, but just as vicious."
The story was chilling, and any other man sharing those words likely would have been at least somewhat disturbed by the events, but not Gaston. He took pride in it. He enjoyed that he had seen something so unnatural.
"So, it's a runt," Adam said. He clearly didn't take it as seriously as the other three, but that was likely due to the fact that the attacks hadn't started until long after he had gone. He hadn't been in the village to witness the years of death and destruction. "Smaller than it should be, and it can't even walk properly."
"Maybe you should come out next month with us, Monsieur. You'll see that it's no runt," Gaston said, grinning again.
Adam chuckled. "You wouldn't want me on a hunt with you, I'd only slow you down." Gaston's grin turned into a visibly forced smile. They hadn't spent much time together back when Adam lived with his father, but he and Gaston had never liked each other. Time hadn't changed that.
"I take it you're not a man of superstition, then, Monsieur Villenueve?" asked Plumette.
"No," Adam shook his head. "I believe there's a logical explanation for everything. Do you and Ms. Beaumont believe in this 'beast?'"
"I wouldn't normally believe in such tales, but you haven't seen the damage this creature can cause," Belle said.
Plumette nodded in agreement with her friend. "I think it's always safe to listen to superstitions, though."
"How so?" Adam asked. Belle noticed a clear difference between the way he spoke to Plumette and the way he spoke to Gaston. When he disagreed with Gaston, it came off as condescending. When he disagreed with Plumette, however, it felt like much more of a discussion. He seemed to genuinely want to hear her viewpoint.
"We have superstitions for a reason," Plumette responded. "When we say that to break a mirror is to bring seven years of bad luck, is the end result not a good one? We have men being much more careful with their mirrors. Does it matter if breaking it would cause true bad luck or not? No one wants a broken mirror."
"I suppose you're right, Ms. Laurent. That is an excellent point," Adam said.
"And in the same vein, does it matter if this beast is an ordinary wolf or something more supernatural? We want our hunters to be as careful as they can be, and if they take extra caution because they believe it to be a werewolf, that means we only have a better chance of them coming home safe. Don't you agree, Monsieur?" In a teasing tone she added, "Or, shall I say Mr. Villeneuve."
Adam laughed. "My apologies to all three of you, I've forgotten our French ways in my time abroad. And you are correct, Mademoiselle Laurent. More caution is always a good thing in life, especially when dangerous animals are involved."
"I assure you, Mademoiselle, my men are well equipped to handle both wolves and werewolves alike," Gaston said, missing Plumette's point entirely. "We'll catch it in no time."
"Hopefully," Belle said. "It's gone on for far too long, now."
"I'm sure that Monsieur LeGume- Well, I'm sure that his men are plenty capable." Adam said. Belle smirked at the slight dig at Gaston.
"I am," Gaston said confidently. "I'll have its head on my wall after the next full moon."
"Well, if you excuse me, Monsieur LeGume. I was hoping that Mademoiselle Beaumont would accompany me on a stroll. I promised her we'd catch up." He turned to Belle to say, "If that's alright with you, of course. And Mademoiselle Laurent is free to join us."
"I would like that, yes," Belle said, grateful to have an excuse to get away from Gaston.
Gaston was frowning, but he didn't say anything. He nodded and turned on his heel to walk away without saying goodbye. Belle tried not to smirk at the sight of the grown man pouting.
"Thank you so much, Monsieur Villenueve," Plumette smiled. "We can never get him to leave so easily."
"We should walk by the river," Belle suggested. "The flowers alongside it look best this time of year."
"That's a wonderful idea, Mademoiselle," Adam said. The three began to walk together in that direction. "Enough of all this beast talk, how have the two of you been? I'm glad to see you're still good friends."
"Nothing much has changed since you left," Belle smiled. "We've all gotten a bit taller, I suppose."
Adam laughed. "Yes, that's true. Nothing changes too much in this town, does it? It's almost nice, it's like stepping into a painting. Everything is familiar even after all these years."
"And has anything changed for you?" Plumette asked. "You've been away for so many years. Have you married yet?"
Belle gently bumped her elbow into Plumette's arm. Plumette only smiled wider.
Adam almost seemed embarrassed by the question. "Ah, no, I have not. And neither of you have, either, I take it? Otherwise you would've corrected my referring to you as mademoiselles."
"I hope to be married to Lumiere Joubert," Plumette answered. "He worked for your father. Belle, however, doesn't currently have any suitors."
Belle grit her teeth at her friend's meddling, but she knew she couldn't say anything to Plumette about it in front of Adam.
"Lumiere? He's a fine young man. Has he not asked you yet?" Adam asked.
"Actually," Belle started. "Monsieur Villeneuve didn't want any of his servants to be married. He viewed it as a distraction. Maybe now..." She hesitated, not knowing quite how to phrase it. She knew that in their youth Adam hadn't liked his father much, but that was years ago. And just because Adam wasn't close with his father didn't mean he wasn't mourning his passing. She didn't want to come across as insensitive.
"Really?" Adam asked, looking surprised. "Well, that's ridiculous. I'll let Lumiere know when I arrive back at the manor that that will no longer be enforced."
"Oh, thank you, Monsieur!" Plumette exclaimed.
"Of course," Adam said absentmindedly. He looked concerned that his father would ever have such a rule.
"Are you planning on staying for long?" Belle asked gently.
"Hmm? Oh, I'm not sure yet," Adam answered, coming back to himself. "I'll at least stay as long as it takes me to handle the estate. It may be a few months. After that, I'm unsure."
Plumette nudged Belle's arm. Belle gave her friend a questioning look, and Plumette smiled in response.
"I should be going home now," Plumette said, halting. "If I'm being honest, I really just wanted an excuse to get away from Monsieur LeGume's conversation skills. Thank you for that, and for speaking to Monsieur Joubert."
"Of course, don't mention it," Adam grinned. "I'm always happy to help women escape from LeGume's clutches. Would you like to be escorted home?"
"No, no! Thank you, Monsieur!" Plumette said, waving as she began to walk away from the two. "You and Belle should have some time to catch up!"
"Thank you," Belle said a few moments later after Plumette was headed back down the path toward town. She and Adam had begun to walk again.
"What for?"
"For helping her with Monsieur Joubert. They've been smitten with one another for a few years now."
Adam let out a sound that was both a sigh and a laugh. "I can't believe my father wouldn't let his servants be married. Well, I can believe it. I still find it so strange."
"Monsieur Villeneueve was a very strict man," she said carefully.
"That's a light way of putting it," he said, laughing dryly. He shook his head before changing the subject. "And was what Mademoiselle Laurent said true? There isn't a man in town you hope to marry?"
Belle scrunched her nose. "No, there isn't. Many of the young men have moved away to find better opportunities and more exciting places to live. The men that are left are either already married or too old for my liking."
"Or are pigheaded brutes like Gaston LeGume?" He leaned into her as he joked. Belle liked how familiar he felt, as if no time had passed since they were children joking around together.
She laughed. "Yes. I'd honestly rather be a spinster than marry him. He's persistent, though."
"I am just shocked that no woman has agreed to marry him yet," he said in a deadpan tone. "He seems like a real catch."
"Oh, isn't it just unbelievable?" Belle rolled her eyes. "And what about you? Are there any women in London who have caught your eye?"
"I'm afraid not. I've been rather busy, you see. I'm working on a project. Can I tell you what it is and you'll promise not to tease me for it?"
"Of course you can. We're friends, are we not?"
Adam grinned at her. "Of course we are. I've been writing a novel. My father never would have approved, so I've kept it to myself."
"Why would I tease you for that? That's incredible, Ad- Monsieur! You must let me read it when it's finished."
"You can be the first to read it when it's done, I promise. I've never met anyone who appreciates books as much as you do."
"Never, not even in London or Paris?"
"Never," he said sincerely.
They reached the river then. It wasn't much of a river, just a small stream running along the edge of the village and into the woods beyond. It was the nature surrounding the river that made it remarkable. Tall ash trees were dotted along the length of the river, and surrounding it on both sides were fields of wildflowers. Aways down the river there were some children playing by one of the trees and enjoying the warm weather.
Adam didn't speak for a few minutes as he took in the scenery. Belle was content to look upon it by his side. She'd never left the area like he had, but even she could still appreciate its loveliness.
"I suppose I'd forgotten how beautiful this village is," he said softly. "You don't get sights like this in the city."
"You're right. Still, I'd love to see one of the big cities someday. I'm sure they have their own sort of beauty."
"They do," he said, looking down at her. "Maybe I can show you someday."
She smiled up at him. "Yes, I'd like that."
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The old grandfather clock ticking away in the drawing room was beginning to drive Adam mad. He wasn't sure how old it was, but it was old enough that its rhythm was erratic and the time it kept was no longer accurate. He had gone to the drawing room with a book and some tea to try to relax, but the clock was becoming unbearably annoying.
"Monsieur Villeuneve," Lumiere said, stepping into the doorway.
"Yes, Lumiere?"
Lumiere stepped forward. He stood straight and with his arms at his side. His strict formality made Adam uncomfortable. He wanted to let Lumiere know that he was nowhere as rigid as his father was, but he didn't know how.
"The town florist, Agathe Fraise, is here to see you. I believe she wishes to offer her services for the funeral."
Adam sighed and put down his book. "Of course. I'll be downstairs in a moment."
Lumiere nodded and began to leave.
"Lumiere, wait just a second."
The man looked worried as Adam stood and approached him.
"Yes, Monsieur?"
"I was hoping to speak with you about Plumette Laurent."
Lumiere opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. "Monsieur?" he asked, confused.
"I was speaking with her and Mademoiselle Beaumont early today, and I was informed that my father disallowed his servants from marrying. Is that correct?"
"It is, Monsieur," Lumiere nodded. He still seemed very wary of Adam.
"I just wanted to inform you that that isn't a concern for me. I see no reason to keep those under my employment from living their lives. If you wish to marry Mademoiselle Laurent, don't let your job be the thing that prevents that." He smiled at the other man, trying to appear as warm and as friendly as possible.
Lumiere's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"
"Of course. I'm not my father, Lumiere. I want you to know that."
"Thank you, Monsieur. I- Thank you!"
"Don't thank me, Lumiere," Adam said, patting Lumiere on the shoulder. "Just be happy with Mademoiselle Laurent. She's a good woman, and I believe you two will be a good match for one another."
And with that he went downstairs to see the florist. She was a nice older woman, and Adam didn't mind dealing with her, but he dreaded the thought that every vendor in town would start visiting him to offer him their services. He didn't particularly want to throw a large funeral for his father. Olivier hadn't really had any friends in town, and Adam was his only living relative. He felt that a simple tombstone and some nice flowers would be plenty.
As the florist departed, Adam glanced up toward the ceiling. He hated sleeping in this house knowing that his father was still in the attic. He couldn't wait to get this funeral over with.
He returned to the drawing room and to the book he had been reading. He'd borrowed it from the library after escorting Belle back home that afternoon. It was 'Emma', which he knew to be one of Belle's favourite books. His mind kept cycling back to that morning; the story of the town's beast, Belle smiling at him, the flowers by the river. He hadn't been back for two full days and it already felt like so much had happened.
He had missed Belle dearly, that was for certain. In his time away from the village, he'd thought of her every so often. Now that he was back home and she was so close he thought of her constantly. She had been the only person he truly felt like himself around when they were younger. He wondered if she felt similarly about him, or if she was always her true self around everyone and didn't feel the need to hide like he did.
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It took three weeks for the funeral to finally be prepared. There had been a delay with the tombstone, and then the spot they had chosen to dig a plot in had been obscured by tree roots, and then the florist caught a brief cold.
Adam Villenueve had grown very restless in that time. At least he had been able to take comfort in the presence of Belle Beaumont. They often strolled together, and were sometimes joined by Plumette Laurent. He began to play a sort of game where every time he'd spot Gaston LeGume talking to either woman he'd try his best to get in the way and bother Gaston into leaving while still being polite enough to not cause trouble. He was sure that Gaston hated him by now. Adam didn't mind that thought one bit. And this game had the bonus of amusing Belle greatly.
Not even two days after Adam had spoken with Lumiere Joubert, he had gone and proposed to Plumette. Plumette was overjoyed at the proposal, and by that night everyone in the village had heard the news. Everyone celebrated the couple, save for Gaston who was very sour about it. After the proposal, Lumiere began to warm up to Adam. Adam discovered that he was a very exuberant and funny man after he dropped his withdrawn servant act. Lumiere was beginning to feel like a friend to him.
Meanwhile, another full moon was approaching. In the days leading up to it a new energy began to overtake the village. People began to take extra precautions in securing their doors at night. The men who normally stayed until midnight at the tavern would be sure to be home by eight o'clock. The streets would be deserted by the time the moon hung high in the sky.
Adam once asked Belle if she believed there was a beast. She said she couldn't be sure. The fact that Belle, a person who was very logical and believed in facts over faith and superstition, thought there was a possibility that a supernatural creature was attacking their town gave Adam chills.
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There was a knock on Belle's door one night before the funeral and two nights before the full moon. Maurice was out at the stables with the horses, leaving Belle alone in their home.
She carefully pulled back one of the curtains by the front door to peer out the window. At first she couldn't tell who was at the front door, but then the man took a step back. In the moonlight it was clear that it was Gaston. Belle bit her lip and tried to decide whether or not to answer. Gaston hadn't made any visits to Belle's home in years, not since Maurice had firmly warned him away. He had never listened to her own rejections, but he respected Maurice's.
Gaston moved back toward the door and knocked again. If he was at the door, she figured it must have been something serious. Gaston took other men's words seriously.
She moved away from the window and went to unlock and open the door.
"Belle!" Gaston said. He seemed grateful to see her. She tried not to cringe away at him calling her by her first name. The only people that called her by her first name were her father and Plumette. Coming from Gaston it felt awkward and overly familiar.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, planting herself squarely in the doorway so that Gaston wouldn't get any ideas about entering the home.
"I need to speak with you. It's important. Can I come in?" He was slightly dishevelled looking, which was unusual for him. His shirt was wrinkled and untucked, two of the buttons on his vest weren't fastened, and his short black hair was a mess. He leaned on his cane, which bore its signature silver wolf-shaped handle.
Belle hesitated. It was Gaston, after all. But he seemed concerned and sincere in a way she had never before seen him. He almost looked afraid, which would've been frightening in itself. If there was one thing Gaston could be counted on for, it was his confidence.
She stepped aside to let him enter, and he quickly came in and closed the door behind him.
"I need to tell you something. I don't trust anyone else with this."
"Okay. You can tell me." The whole situation felt off. Belle wasn't sure why Gaston would trust her over his own family or his hunters.
"Last month on the full moon, when I saw the beast, I didn't share the full story with you," he began. He pulled a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. He looked up at her with a plea in his eyes before continuing. Belle crossed her arms. "I saw it heading for the Villenueve manor. I was with two of my men, but we got separated in the darkness. I tracked it all the way up to the gardens outside of the manor. It... It lunged at me. It tried to kill me. I managed to get another shot in, right in its gut. It fell backward, and I thought I had done it. I thought I killed the beast. But, Belle... it was him. It was Villenueve."
"What?" Belle asked, shocked.
"Olivier Villenueve," Gaston reiterated. "He was the beast. And I- Belle. I shot him."
"You killed him," Belle stated. She took a step back away from the table Gaston sat at. She was in disbelief.
"I killed a werewolf, Belle," Gaston said, his fear and concern turning cold. "Not a man."
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She wanted Gaston to leave, she wanted him far away from her and out of her sight. She wanted her father to return from the stables and put his foot down and force Gaston to leave. She was afraid knowing that her word alone wouldn't be enough to make him go away.
"It bit me," Gaston said, his own voice wavering. He pulled his collar aside, revealing nothing. His skin looked untouched. "Do you see this? It's healed. That's not natural. Belle, I'm afraid that... Well, I'm afraid that I'm going to become like him."
"Monsieur-"
"I don't know what to do, Belle," he pleaded. He stood from his chair and moved toward her. Belle took another step back, bumping into the kitchen counter. "I'm scared. I've never been scared like this before."
"I think you should leave," Belle said. Her voice came out far softer than she had meant it to.
"Please, Belle."
"I want you to leave," she said in the most authoritative tone she could muster.
There was a beat of silence as the two stared at each other.
Gaston let out a shaky breath. "Please don't tell anyone about this, Belle. Promise me?"
"I promise," she said, though she knew before she said it that it was a lie.
It seemed to be enough for Gaston, however. He nodded and took a step back from her,
"Thank you, Belle," he said before letting himself out the front door.
Belle let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. Gaston's words had shocked her and concerned her. Everything about the encounter was so far out of Gaston's nature. He wasn't the type to play practical jokes, either, so she knew he believed what he was saying.
She watched out the window to see Gaston limping down the path away from her home and towards his own. Once he disappeared from view, she went out the front door herself and began running toward the horse stables. She pulled up her skirts as she ran, relieved that she was in her workwear already.
By the time she got to the stables she was out of breath.
"Belle? Are you okay?" Maurice asked. He was in the middle of brushing one of the horses.
"I need to borrow Phillipe," she said.
"What? Belle, it's far too late for a ride. It's dark out already. Did something happen?"
"I need to go into town. It's important, Papa."
"What's so important that you need to go into town this time of night?"
Belle moved forward and grabbed her father's hands. "I promise I will explain later, but right now I really need to go be sure of something."
Maurice frowned. "I don't like this, Belle."
"Please, I need to do this," she pleaded.
He sighed. "I know I cannot stop you. Just be safe, please. Stick to the roads, don't go anywhere out of the boundaries. Alright?"
"I will, I promise," she said, releasing his hands before going to fetch a saddle for Phillipe.
She rode as quickly as she could toward the manor, the deserted roads making the trip much smoother. It still unsettled her to see the town so empty. It wasn't so late at night that everyone was asleep. She knew that people must've been spotting her from their windows and wondering what was going on. But the moon was nearly full in the sky, and no one would go outside.
She quickly tied Phillipe to the stair railing leading up to the manor. It wasn't ideal, but she didn't imagine she would be staying long.
Belle used the large brass door knocker, the sounds of the knocks echoing audibly inside the house, and then began to wait. After a minute or two the door began to open, revealing Madame Potts.
"Oh!" Madame Potts exclaimed, clearly not expecting Belle of all people to be showing up so late in the evening. "Mademoiselle Beaumont, what a surprise! Monsieur Villenueve didn't tell me we were expecting any guests. Come in, come in. I'll pour you some tea."
Belle didn't bother to correct her notion that Belle was an expected guest of Adam's. She let the woman guide her inside the manor and to the drawing room.
Belle hadn't been inside the manor in many years. Even when she and Adam were children she rarely ever visited the manor. Olivier Villenueve had not been fond of guests, and he didn't care to have children running around his home. It was a home that could have been very beautiful had anyone else owned it, but with Olivier as the head of the house it became a home of coldness and foreboding.
"You wait right here, Mademoiselle," Madame Potts said, offering her a seat on one of the couches. "I'll fetch the master and some tea for the both of you."
"Thank you, Madame Potts," Belle said as she left.
There were several nerve-wracking minutes before Adam appeared. She was embarrassed to notice that he was wrapped in a dressing gown.
"Mademoiselle Beaumont? Are you alright?" he asked with concern, moving into the drawing room and sitting at the couch opposite from Belle.
Belle took a deep breath, "I don't know how to tell you this. Something very strange happened tonight."
"What is it?" he asked, brows furrowed. He leaned forward to look more closely at her face. He looked very worried for her.
"Tonight Monsieur LeGume came to my home to tell me that he believes he shot a werewolf last month during the full moon. And he believes that- Well, he thinks your father was that werewolf."
"What are you saying? That LeGume shot my father?" Adam's eyes widened.
"That's what he told me."
"My god," Adam said, leaning back into the couch. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I'm so sorry about this. I just felt like I needed to tell you immediately."
Adam dropped his hand and opened his eyes to look up toward the ceiling. "Should we check?"
"Check?" Belle asked weakly.
"He's above us. We could check to make sure there's no gunshot wound before they take him away tomorrow for burial."
Belle felt a chill run down her spine. She hadn't realised that his father's body was still in the manor. She couldn't help but glance upward, following Adam's line of sight.
"Have you... seen him?"
Adam looked downward and swallowed. "I have not."
He slowly rose from his seat just as Madame Potts entered with a tea tray.
"Everything alright?" Madame Potts asked, setting the tray down on the low table between the two couches.
"Yes, thank you, Madame," Adam said.
Madame Potts hesitated for a moment, looking between the two. After a few moments she gave them a smile and a nod and then turned to leave.
"Are you sure about this?" Belle asked. "We could tell someone else. Maybe Monsieur D'Arque?"
"No, I think I have to do this myself. I've been avoiding him for too long," he said with a tense jaw.
Adam lifted a candle holder off of the table and began to walk out of the room, and Belle felt obligated to follow. She followed his lead out of the drawing room and into the corridor. The stairs to the attic were tucked into the back of the manor, clearly only intended for servants to use to transport things in and out of storage and not for the residents or their guests. The staircase was dark and the only source of light was the small candle Adam carried.
Adam hesitated upon reaching the top of the stairs. The only thing separating them from the attic now was just a door. Belle, two steps below, gently placed her hand on Adam's arm. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
The attic was a large and mostly empty room. There were crates stacked against one wall, and a few furniture pieces around the room covered in protective sheets. For several moments neither of them even spotted where Olivier lay. Looking around the room, Belle spotted a table near the one small window in the attic. The moonlight shone in and illuminated it. At first it just appeared to be another piece of furniture covered in a sheet, but then she realised that the sheet was not flat. She couldn't help but let out a small gasp at the human shape under the sheet.
Adam instinctively moved his arm in front of Belle as a protective measure, even though he knew there was no threat to either of them in this attic. They slowly approached the table as one. The closer they got, the more unsettled they each felt about the distinctly human shape under the sheet.
Adam set the candle holder down on a nearby crate. "You don't have to be here for this," he addressed Belle in a soft voice.
"You shouldn't have to do this alone," she said, lifting her chin. She was determined to be there for her friend.
Adam nodded and weakly smiled. He turned to the table and reached out to grab ahold of the sheet. He froze for a moment, took a breath, and then pulled back the sheet.
Adam swore and hastily took a few steps back. Belle clapped her hand over her mouth. The smell was the first thing that hit them, the sight of the body the second.
"Did LeGume say where he shot him?" Adam asked hoarsely.
She couldn't answer for a few seconds. "The stomach."
Adam pinched his nose with one hand and moved back toward the table. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. He tried not to think about the fact that the thing laying in front of them used to be his father as he pulled the shirt it was wearing aside.
There was what appeared to be dried blood on the shirt, but no apparent gunshot wound. Adam had been told it was likely a heart attack, something that his father wouldn't have been likely to have survived at his old age. A heart attack wouldn't explain all the blood on his shirt, but there was no sign of any sort of wound that could have caused it either.
Adam threw the sheet back over the body and stepped backward. He grabbed onto Belle's hand and pulled her back toward the door. He had left the candle behind, making their journey away from the attic much darker, but he refused to go back into that room. They quickly went down the stairs and back into the corridor. They didn't stop until they got back to the drawing room, where a fire had been lit in their absence.
Adam hadn't noticed until they reached the drawing room that he was still holding on to Belle's hand. He quickly dropped it, hoping he hadn't caused her any embarrassment.
She dropped down onto the couch Adam had been seated at earlier with a sigh.
"I'm so sorry, Adam."
He sat down beside her and leaned forward to prepare tea for them both from the tray.
"Do you think LeGume is a man who would lie?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I've known him to be a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them. He is not a good man, but he wouldn't play such a nasty trick."
"Maybe he's gone mad," Adam said quietly.
"Maybe."
Adam silently handed her a cup of tea. Belle held it close with both hands to try and absorb its warmth.
"It is strange... There was blood on his clothing, but no source," he said thoughtfully.
"What do you think that means?"
Adam took a drink from his own tea. He shut his eyes for a few moments.
"I have no idea. It baffles me. I cannot think of a logical explanation," he finally said. There was a tinge of defeat in his words. Adam was a man who firmly believed in science, and for once it had left him without any answers.
They finished their tea without much more conversation, both shaken from what had happened in the attic. After their tea had been drunk and the fire began to dim Adam walked Belle outside and back to her horse.
Phillipe looked annoyed at having been woken up so late and then left haphazardly outside, but Belle's presence soothed him immediately. Adam helped her back on the horse, even though she didn't really need the assistance, and then stepped back to let her go.
"Be safe, Mademoiselle Beaumont," Adam said.
"Thank you, Monsieur. And goodnight."
Adam gave her a nod, she returned it with a smile, and then she was gone.