Page 25 of Beauty's Beast

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. For a moment, Kristine thought he might strike her; then he turned away, his shoulders shaking.

Kristine stared at him in amazement. Was he crying?

Rising, she went to stand behind him. “Erik? Erik, I’m sorry.”

“Go back to the house.”

She had ruined it, she thought, ruined what could have been the nicest day they had spent together since their marriage. She was about to turn away when she heard a muffled sob. Hewascrying, and it was all her fault.

Without stopping to consider the consequences, she put her arms around him, her front pressed to his back, and hugged him. “My lord? Erik? I’m truly sorry. Please forgive me.”

He stiffened in her embrace, his body as rigid as stone, and then, as if a dam had broken inside him, he began to cry, deep gulping sobs that shook his frame from head to foot. His tears dripped onto her hands.

“It will be all right.” She murmured the words as she stroked his back. Shudders wracked his body. “Erik, please don’t cry.” Guilt rose within her. What had she said to cause him such pain?

Not knowing what else to do, she continued to speak to him in low, soothing tones, one arm wrapped loosely around his waist, the other stroking his back … his back … She ran her hand over him, her fingertips detecting a difference between one side and the other. She lifted her hand a little and massaged his shoulders. Was his left shoulder larger than the right?

Her curiosity rising, she ran her hands up and down his arms. His left arm felt different beneath the fine cloth of his coat, larger.

She was pondering what it could mean when he suddenly whirled around to face her. He wasn’t crying now. Anger blazed in his dark eyes as he captured both her hands in his right one.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a voice that could only be called a growl.

“Nothing … I … nothing … ”

She stared up at him, transfixed.

“I told you not to touch me.”

“I … I didn’t mean any harm.”

She trembled in his grasp, her eyes wide with fright. He had a horrible urge to fling her to the ground, to strip off his mask and clothing and let her see the monstrous horror that wasslowly engulfing his face and body. He wanted to frighten her, to hurt her. To make love to her until they were both breathless.

With an oath, he released her hands. “Go back to the house.”

She didn’t argue this time. With a wordless cry, she whirled around and ran for her horse. He had a quick flash of one long stocking-covered leg as she pulled herself into the saddle and rode away without a backward glance.

Kristine sat at her desk, scribbling furiously, her head aching from the tears she had shed earlier.

I have ruined it all, shattered the fine thread of friendship that had bloomed between us. If only he would confide in me, if only I knew what it is that torments him so!

The memory of Charmion’s visit haunts my every waking moment. Strange, I gave it hardly a thought when it occurred, but now I cannot forget the hatred in her eyes when she looked at Erik. I think she truly believes he killed her daughter. I have not wanted to believe the rumors true, but I have seen his anger firsthand. What if, in a fit of rage, he killed his first wife? After today, I no longer think him incapable of such a foul deed …

Kristine froze, her pen poised over the page, as she heard the door to her room swing open. Even before she turned around, she knew he was there.

He loomed tall and broad in the doorway. His coat was gone, his cravat was askew.

“My lord?”

“Yes, wife?”

“Is something amiss?”

He shook his head, one hand braced against the wall. “I forgot about my vow.”

“Your vow?”

He nodded, his words slurring together as he said, “I have come to fulfill it.”

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