Helen shook her head. “Who else would they belong to? Besides, other than scare the local farmers, we couldn’t think of what else to do with them.”
He rumbled, then turned to take one last bit of tart, his tongue swiping his nose as he finished.
Helen sat back, her fork poking at the remains of crust on her plate. “What do you remember doing at Summer Festival?”
“I remember music. And dancing. Garlands such as these with wishes on them.”
Helen smiled. “I’ve had everyone write their wishes on the garlands, but I’ve left one for you, and if you’d like, I will write all your wishes on it for you.” She reached over and removed a garland from a bush. The triangles of paper were artfully decorated with flourishes and small illustrations. Carefully she laid it out in front of him as Nate removed their plates.
“Susan drew all these, aren’t they clever? That’s you and me sitting in the library reading, and there you are growling at something, probably the sunshine, and –”
“Helen.”
“What is it?”
“Thank you. This is beautiful.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you like it.” She dipped the quill into the ink, then looked up at him. “What wish would you like on this first one?”
He cocked his head at her. “I have no need for anything.”
“Luke, everyone wants something.”
“Very well, I should like to hear you sing.”
Helen shook her head. “Of course I will, but you must really wish for something Luke, and this first one is the most important because it’s the one most likely to be fulfilled, don’t you remember?”
“Helen, there is nothing I can wish for.”
She held back tears as she looked down at the triangle of paper, her finger outlining his shape in the picture. “Then I will write one for you.”
She whispered as she wrote, her wording careful. To end this curse and live once more as a man.
Luke looked over her shoulder, his breath tickling her ear. “You know it will never happen.”
Helen turned to look at him, her eyes bright. “It will, Luke, you must not give up hope. And now you must fill the rest of this garland with wishes. See? I am putting To hear Helen sing on the second one, so it is sure to happen.”
“Very well, then you must put that I would like to hear another of your stories.”
She turned and carefully wrote it down. “Ahh. I should have put for you to tell me more stories on mine as well.”
“What did you write on your garland?”
“Oh…lots of things. That my father would get better, that Paul could find someone to start a family with, that you would…” She bit her lip and changed her mind. “That you would stop shedding so much on my beautiful dresses.”
He rumbled, laughing as a bark came out. “You are sunshine to my soul, dear heart.”
Music began, a lonely violin that Helen and Luke found near the fountain, where Nate played a sweet refrain that ended with claps from everyone who had come out to hear. Calls for something to dance to chorused, and he smiled with a nod and began. Soon Stella was prancing about with Ben while Cook bounced along with one of the footmen. Helen danced too, and when Nate grew tired, Cook pulled out her lute and began a new round. Luke watched, his eyes following Helen as she laughed, her hair spinning as fast as she could go, her eyes bright and her cheeks red. Every once in a while she would sit out a dance to come and clap next to Luke, their heads close together as they laughed and spoke of happy things.
The clock struck midnight as Ben grabbed Stella round the waist, twisting her about to give her a kiss. Hoots and hollers sounded out as Helen laughed and Luke shook his head.
“The late hour makes us children.”
“Oh Luke, Ben has loved Stella for a long time, I think. It’s just taken Stella a while to realize he is a better match than Nate.”
They looked over at Nate who was laughing as heartily as the rest of them, while Stella’s dimple peeked in and out as she teased a flushed Ben.
“See? Nate can tell true love when he sees it.”
“So you do believe in true love.” Luke rumbled in her ear, and she set her hand on his shoulder.
“Of course, Luke. It’s fate I’m not entirely sure about.”
***
Helen had just finished getting ready for bed, the maids yawning as they left, when she heard a scratch at her door. She glanced at the clock on her mantel; who would be at her door at two in the morning? Again came a scratch and crossing the room, she opened her door to reveal Luke.
“May I come in for a moment?”
“Of course.” She opened the door fully and moved over to her bed, where she perched on the end and waited. He bent down and using his teeth grabbed a ribbon that was tied around a small box. Padding over, he dropped the box into her lap.
Helen looked at the box and then back up at him, confused at this unexpected gift. The ribbon was a bright red, wet from his mouth, but she carefully removed it and set it aside on her coverlet.
“Is this for me?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like me to open it now?”
“Yes.”
Helen stared at him, her thoughts turning to Paul’s conversation, to Luke’s subtle comments about true love, to the moments he called her ‘dear heart’. She carefully lifted the lid on the box. Pulling up a layer of red silk, she saw more red silk and set carefully in it, a carved wood bracelet.
“Oh!” Lifting it out, she held it close to see the carvings better.
“It was designed especially for you.”
Helen followed the gentle carving of the flower with her eyes. “It’s beautiful.” She carefully turned the bracelet to see a pot of honey and then a music note. A book followed, and then a castle. Each carving was carefully inlaid with mother of pearl, meticulously placed. She looked up, overwhelmed.
“This is the most beautiful gift I have ever received. Thank you, Luke.”
“There is more.”
“More?” Helen waited, sensing the critical moment.
“I understand that these are considered marriage bracelets.”
Helen looked at the bracelet, her head spinning.
“Once upon a time they were betrothal bracelets, a sign you were promised.”
Helen held her breath.
“But in my day, they were courting bracelets, a gift you presented to the young lady you wished to court. Often, the young man was already in love with his lady of choice.”
There was a pause as Helen waited for him to explain.
“It is ridiculous to even consider such a union between us, but I wanted you to understand what your friendship has meant to me. Each day you bring sunshine to my heart and meaning to my life. I do not know what the future holds, but I know that each day spent with you is a treasure; the greatest I will ever know.”
Luke waited for her to say something, but now Helen had nothing to say, her heart too full to speak.
She looked up suddenly, with a curious expression. “What did the bracelet you gave Genevieve look like?”
He huffed. “What?”
“You were betrothed to Genevieve, is that correct? Or were you only courting?”
“This is not…”
“I’m sorry, Luke, I couldn’t help but wonder.”
His nose touched her hands as she clasped the bracelet. “Her betrothal bracelet had ribbons woven through it. Bright yellow and red and orange ribbons. She wore it on our wedding day with ribbons in her hair to match.”
Helen’s head began to spin. “Your wedding day? You were cursed on your wedding day?”
“Yes. I had just been married, and –”
“You were married?” Helen’s look made him blink.
“Yes, for a few short moments. Her father had it annulled immediately, and since the judge was part of the wedding party, it was of course never contested.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stella called it �
�rotten luck’.”
Helen gave a quick laugh. “Yes.”
“But it was the greatest of luck that brought you to me last year.”
Her smile back, she leaned forward to hug his shaggy head. “Yes, it was the greatest of luck.” She sat back and looked at her bracelet again, slipping it onto her right arm. “Thank you, Luke. I will wear it every day.”
“You’re welcome.”
She watched him amble and shift his great bulk out her door until he stopped to look back.
“Someday when you leave, I will stand in front of your portrait much more than I should, dear heart.”
The Brave Little
Tailor
Helen’s bracelet knocked against the keys as she practiced the song Luke had requested. Finally giving up, she lifted her hands and protested. “Luke, I cannot play the piano, at least not as well as I would like, but I will sing if you will take that as a substitute.”
He rumbled from the floor. “Of course I would.”
Helen found a sweet little song and sang it as she walked about the room, and as she finished turned to face him.
“Will you sing the other one?”
“Which is that?”
“The one you sang when your family came.”
Helen’s face fell a little. “That is The Maiden Fair and it’s a ridiculous song.”
“Yes, but it’s beautiful.”
“Very well.” Stepping around him, she began again, her voice growing stronger with each line. Once more she finished and turned to see Luke watching her.
“You are confident when you sing.”
“I find it easier to express myself. As if I’m letting out my heart and asking the wind to carry it for me.”
“Ah, there is my storyteller. Perhaps you will tell me another today?”
She laughed, but her worry lines still stood strong. “Oh Luke, I am tired. Perhaps it could wait until tomorrow?”
“Alright.” He stood and she leaned forward.
“No, I will tell you a story. In fact, tonight I will tell you of my father.”
Luke laid back down, his head on his paws, his eyes following Helen as she continued to walk about the room.
“There was once a man who was very good with his hands. He could make anything, and he could make it better than it had ever been made before.” Her face lost the last of its smile, her heart aching and straining for the family that she missed.
“What is it, dear heart?”
She stopped and looked at Luke, sighing as she sank down next to him, his nose touching the tips of her fingers. “I miss my family. You see my father is sick again, so today I’m a little sad.”
“Would you like to invite them for another visit?”
“Maybe. He needs to get well again. For now, let me tell you of him. He is the best man I have ever known. As you know, he is an inventor. His pot boiled water faster and never rusted. There was a knife that sharpened the more you used it, and even a pen that wrote in a different color when you made a spelling error. His ideas were fantastic – sometimes he didn’t even know how they would work, they just did. One time he invented a hair dye that changed depending on what time of day it was. I remember Mrs. Best was getting a few grey hairs and when Pa offered his new dyes, she picked brown like she had, but at night it turned a bright carrot red.” Helen sat back, a grin on her face. “Scared the pants off her husband when he came home.” She cocked her head. “He must’ve learned to like it though, because she never bought her dye anywhere else.”
Luke rumbled a laugh, and Helen’s heart lightened.
“The best invention though, was his machine that made any water clean. He made this after seeing a little boy refuse to go near the river because he was afraid he would get sick. For hours he drew up plans, eventually creating a machine that pumped dirty water through and clean water out. How it worked, only he knew, but it did, making his machine the triumph of his city. Everyone, even the lowliest street orphan, had clean water to drink.”
“Did you help him with his inventions?”
Helen rubbed his nose absently. “No, I was never very good at it. Jack was the one that always was at his side handing him the right tool or suggesting an idea.”
“Did Manwaring ever try to stop him?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what happened. One day, a man came, searching for my father. When he found him, he invited him to his rooms to help him invent a machine, one that he said was needed to save many lives. Papa was intrigued and came, bringing Paul and I, who would tell him of any deceit. There, this deceiver offered him expensive wine, then tried to coax Papa into moving to his city instead and working for him. ‘Your children’, he said, ‘will have everything they ever wanted and more, and your fame will spread far and wide.’ Sensing a twisted purpose, Paul warned our father, and he refused the offer. I couldn’t tell if he was lying, because there were so many half-truths woven in. I would know now, of course.”
Her face was quiet and Luke nudged her.
“I’m sorry, Luke. This is a hard story to tell.”
“You do not have to.”
Helen shook her head. “I think it’s good for me.” Taking a breath, she continued. “Mr. Manwaring was so angry, he swore to end him. His wrath was so strong, and his threats so vivid, that Papa attempted to placate him with a selection of his best inventions for his personal use. Manwaring eyed them all, then finally gave us a twisted smile as he said, ‘Very well. Impress me, and I might leave you alone, you fool.’ To our surprise, Papa worked late into the night selecting seven inventions. He adjusted and tweaked and rearranged and in the morning, offered them with apologies and kind words.”
“What were the inventions? What was he doing with them, did he make them stop working?”
Helen smirked. “Oh they worked alright. There was the pen that fixed spelling errors, instead changing color when you started a word with a vowel. The hair dye worked, but then at night your hair fell out while you were sleeping. He even gave him a clean water machine that was reversed, making it pointless.”
“But then the city would have dirty water and it would hurt everyone.”
Helen shook her head. “That was the brilliance of it. He knew that Manwaring would never really use it to help his city. In fact, Pa was certain he would take it apart to learn how to dismantle others for some twisted evil plot that would allow him to gain who knows what.”
“You mean as punishment when the servant girl made a mistake.”
Helen nodded. “Yes, that was a use my father never foresaw. Meanwhile, the deceiver began to use the inventions. Frustrated with the pen, he threw it away, but the hat that should have helped him appear taller made him look shorter, and the everlasting tissues that always had a clean new layer gave him a rash, and soon he could blame his failures on his use of these inventions. This made him angry, and he began to plan his revenge. Unfortunately, he was very intelligent, and it wasn’t long before he found a way to destroy my father.”
“But he didn’t. Not quite.”
“No. I suppose not. But Manwaring lives on, making life miserable for many others.”
“But your father’s invention at least stopped him from gaining control over a kingdom by means of his daughter.”
“Yes, we at least have that.” She stood. “I need to sleep now, Luke. But I will see you tomorrow morning.”
“You did not want to tell me a story tonight, but you did anyway.”
Helen stopped at the door, and turned to smile. “It needed to be told. Besides, you wanted a story, and that’s what friends do, even when they’re over-tired because somebody wanted to play catch today.”
He snorted at her smirk. “You rolled down the hill on purpose.”
She grinned. “Twice.” Slipping out the door, she made her way to her room to rest safe in her dreams.
The choice
“Step on a crack, break the girl’s back!” Rose stood, her hands on her hips as she looked down at Helen weeding i
n the garden. Helen cursed at the stupid rhyme, stupid Rose and her stupid desire to make her stupid life miserable. She was silent, though, her hands wrist deep and clenched in the soil.
“Father wants to see you. Do something about your feet, would you? I don’t want you dragging in all that dirt.”
Helen stood and turned to the well to wash off her feet which she knew wouldn’t really work, not with the years of dirt caked on them. With a quiet born of too many beatings and not enough food, she entered the back door and made her way down the hall to the front room.
He stood there watching her, but she no longer met his gaze, her eyes on her feet, which knobbed and twisted in a way that wasn’t quite right.
“I don’t suppose we’ve really broken your back yet. But perhaps something in you is broken by now.”
She said nothing, years of habit gluing her mouth shut, and he continued. “You will not have to bear it anymore. You see, I have one last task for you, and then you are free.”
She kept her eyes on the ground knowing better than to raise them, to show him the pinch of hope she was mad enough to have.
“You have gotten wiser these past few years.” He cuffed the side of her head, which she leaned away from. “Or perhaps we really have knocked everything out of you, eh?” Manwaring turned and she felt the oddest pull to kick the back of his legs and knock him down. She looked at his dogs – she would be dead or bleeding out inside of a minute.
“It is time for a story. You see, three years ago, I was returning from a rather lucrative deal I had made. On my way home, I stopped by the town of Esker to check some of my interests there and found them thwarted by a rather annoying man named Ashland.” Helen’s head popped up, and she cursed her sentimental reaction.
“I never did like your father. He was forever putting a wrench in my plans, entirely by accident of course, because I had never met him. It was always on account of some invention, and since they were all quite remarkable, I offered him a job at the first opportunity. You know how he refused and then insulted me with his offering of inventions that he had somehow ruined.” He paced, stopping to look at her eyes, which were focused on him now, her thin face devoid of hope, but panicked in its hunger for whatever he would say next. He laughed at the sight and continued.
The Unbreakable Curse: A Beauty & the Beast Retelling Page 12