The Heart of The Beast

by Susan Kohler

  “I do not know,” the Beast sighed, feeling drained and tired. “Mayhap... ”

  “Mayhap M’lord admits he could have been wrong?” Her eyes flashed in spite of the pain she still felt.

  She saw the muscles in his jaw twitch in reaction and hastened to add, “Calm yourself, M’lord, I do but jest. Tell me what happened to cause this, please.”

  “I heard the soldiers, my own guards, they were drinking and laughing,” the Beast admitted slowly. “They claimed that you had tamed the Beast. They said that you had made me a lapdog and that you held the leash.”

  “And were they right?” Beauty asked meeting his eyes with a quiet, soft gaze.

  “I’m a warrior,” the Beast answered shortly.

  “Were they right?” Beauty repeated her question more firmly.

  “No,” the Beast replied indignantly. “I am not weak nor tamed, nor any woman’s lapdog, not even yours, wench.”

  “So why do you let a few words from drunken fools bother you?” Beauty asked with a trace of anger. “Ignore them, or better yet work them so hard on the training field that they know you’re as strong as ever. Why take it out on me? Does that make you feel stronger?”

  “I took it out on you because I was still angry when I saw you with that lad downstairs,” the Beast admitted, feeling like dirt.

  “We were just planning a special feast for you this evening,” Beauty explained, making the Beast feel even worse. “M’lord, you have no cause to be jealous, I promised you my loyalty and I will never break that promise.”

  “I told you before, I was not jealous!” the Beast roared, covering his guilt with a show of temper.

  Beauty turned her back to him and stood there silently. Long minutes passed without either of them speaking a word. Finally he lowered his voice and asked her a question that he’d never in his life asked anyone before.

  “Forgive me? Please, I promise Beauty, I will never punish you so harshly again.” His voice was so soft she could scarcely hear it. He walked over to her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

  “Never again with the belt?” Beauty whispered, pleading in spite of herself.

  The Beast felt her shiver through his hands. She turned to face him as he answered.

  “Never,” the Beast said softly. “I give you my oath.”

  At the sight of such a strong, proud man humbling himself to her, Beauty’s heart soared. In a wordless answer, she sank to the bed and pulled him down atop her. Ignoring the pain from her welts, she kissed him with all the joy and promise she didn’t dare give voice to. Not yet. She still had a long way to go to convince this stubborn beast of a man that caring and tender emotions strengthened a man instead of making him weak.

  They made love passionately long into the night. After their first passion was sated, as they lay there recovering and relaxing, the Beast kissed her welts. He felt sick inside and more than a little guilty as he looked at the dark stripes covering her buttocks and legs.

  “M’lord?” Beauty murmured softly. “Might I talk with you freely?”

  “Of course, Beauty,” he replied, waiting for her to tear into him for his brutality.

  “You’ve used a belt on me twice now,” she began, “and it seems to me both times were triggered by someone or something other than my own actions. The first time, you were so upset over the loss of that young guard, whether you will admit it or not, that you overreacted when I dropped your sword.”

  “I gave it to you to keep safe while I tried to save the man,” the Beast pointed out.

  “But I could hardly help it that my horse slipped, almost going down, and I had to struggle to stay on him, could I?” she countered.

  “Your horse slipped? I never knew.” The Beast looked sheepish. “I was too busy trying to rescue the man. My God, Beauty, I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are, I understand. I even understood it at the time. I also know those words were very hard for you to say,” she told him calmly. “Truly, I’m not trying to place the blame on you. I just want you to realize that what caused your anger, in both cases, was not me. I admit, I resent it a little, being the target of your bad temper.”

  “Like tonight? I was really aggravated with those drunken fools and not with you,” the Beast admitted.

  “All I ask is that you stop for a minute and use your judgment to see if I am truly at fault before you beat me,” Beauty requested. “Rein in your temper that much and I’ll accept your decision without complaint.”

  “Without complaint?” The Beast quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “Well, without too much complaint,” she smiled softly at him.

  “I’ll try, Beauty.” The Beast kissed her. “But it’s hard to break a lifetime of habits.”

  “Actually, you treat me much better than I expected when I first came to the castle door,” Beauty told him.

  “Really?” The Beast was pleased. “Are you content here Beauty? Would you stay with me if we had no bargain between us?”

  “I am content, even happy here,” Beauty said, “but without the bargain I could not stay whether I wanted to or not. My conscience would not let me stay here unless there was a compelling reason. If I were here just because I care for you, I would indeed be a slut.”

  “You could never be a slut, Beauty.” The Beast kissed her softly. “No matter what any man says. I am glad for the bargain though, I don’t think I will ever release you from your promise.”

  “I’ll just have to bear up as best I can,” she smiled at him. “Disgrace can be very pleasing, M’lord.”

  Realizing that she’d given him plenty to think about, now she sought to reassure him about many things. She wanted him to know of her loyalty, and she wanted to let him feel good about their relationship and about himself. She decided that words weren’t always the best means of expression, so she began to love him tenderly and completely with her hands and mouth.

  Chapter Six

  The summer continued on at an almost leisurely pace. In spite of the unsettling presence of the young girl, Claire, a deceptive peace and calm reigned over the castle. The girl was even more frightened of the Beast after seeing him drag Beauty up the stairs and then hearing the obvious sounds of the whipping and Beauty’s piercing screams. She continued to run from the room every time she saw him. Beauty oft found her afterwards, sitting huddled in a corner, shaking with fear and her small face wet with tears.

  Beauty tried to explain to the lass that she was in no danger from the Beast. She gently held the girl, comforting her when she cried and listening to her as she voiced her inner fears. She also comforted the girl after her worst nightmares, when she woke screaming. Beauty told her, gently, that it was the Beast who had hunted down the band of raiders who had killed her grandmother and raped her in the forest. That it was the Beast who had taken her in so that Beauty could nurse her back to health. She tried to make it known to the girl that the Beast only wanted to act as her protector, to make sure she was safe and that she had shelter, clothes and food.

  Claire refused to see the truth behind Beauty’s words. She saw only a man who was coarse and rough, demanding in a loud voice to have everything his own way. She saw a brutal man who beat Beauty, but she never saw the hidden tenderness within him. She saw the rage of the Beast and not the pain and loneliness buried deep inside his shell. Every time she saw the man she went pale, her slender frame quaking visibly.

  So things remained until one day, about a month after Beauty’s fierce whipping, another problem between Beauty and the Beast came to a head. Actually, it was more or less the same problem, jealousy, but this time it happened in reverse.

  The Beast had begun to feel restless. He grew impatient with the servants and short-tempered with Beauty. He fought furiously and endlessly on the practice fields, tearing the straw dummies into pieces at an alarming rate. Another servant had to be hired and put to work full time making and repairing more of the dummies and targets.

  The Beast rode his horses to
exhaustion. More than once, the castle inhabitants and even an occasional village family had fresh game for dinner thanks to his restless roaming and ready bow. Sometimes he even brought home enough for the guardsmen. Ofttimes, he paced the castle and grounds like a caged animal desperately seeking release.

  He knew what was happening to him but he wasn’t sure why. There could be many reasons behind his overwhelming disquietude. Was it merely that he was a warrior without a war, growing bored with the relative peace and routine of everyday life? Was the girl, Claire, getting on his nerves? Was her constant, unrelenting fear of him preying on his spirit bringing memories back to him, memories of the women he had forced to his bed? Did her very presence prick his conscience, reminding him of the pain he’d caused others like her, thinking it was his right?

  The Beast, who had never questioned his own actions before now wondered, am I still the man I used to be? Did I force Beauty to my bed as surely as I did the others? Did it matter at all that is was a different kind of force? That she had been the one to come to him? He remembered her statement that without the bargain she would leave. Did that mean she was with him against her will? That her affection for him was a sham? He pondered these things but could come to no definite answers.

  Could his restlessness be laid at Beauty’s feet? Was he bored with Beauty? Or was he fighting, somewhere deep within himself, his true feelings for Beauty? His reliance on her quiet wisdom and unfailing support had grown. He trusted her more than he ever had any woman. He still fought against those feelings, the sense of being settled down; even his subconscious avoided the dreaded word tamed.

  It didn’t help that the girl, Claire, followed Beauty everywhere. Her big brown eyes, filled with fear and accusation, seemed to constantly pursue the Beast. Her thin, budding body trembled visibly when she was forced to stay in the same room with him for even a short time.

  She was a mirror to the Beast, reflecting back to him the kind of man he was. She was his first contact with a rape victim after the rape was over, and he felt guilty and tainted in her presence.

  Barely thirteen, she was not only a reminder of a past that the Beast had yet to come to terms with, but she was a constant companion to Beauty. Frequently, she inhibited the Beast when he wanted to take Beauty into his arms or into his bed. It was difficult to rouse Beauty’s passions when there was a young girl who needed to be comforted. For whatever reason, Gwyneth did not seem to be able to give the girl comfort as well as Beauty. Gradually, Claire had become used to the many castle inhabitants but she still shrank from any contact with the Beast.

  Although part of him knew why she was so terrified of him and understood it well, it still pained the Beast in a way that he could hardly have imagined; to see such abject terror aimed at him, reflected in the eyes of an innocent child.

  Finally his restlessness came to a boiling point. For whatever reason, even though Beauty did everything he asked and more, a part of him wanted to seek out another woman. He himself did not know why. His mind was fighting against the trap he’d walked into when he’d taken Beauty into his life. He remembered a woman he’d seen the last time he’d been to the village. She was young and beautiful. He thought of her often, once even mentioning her casually to Beauty. She had kept silent, but the Beast saw traces of tears in her eyes and felt a strange guilt that he refused to acknowledge. Determined to break his ennui, he sent for the woman. One of his soldiers brought the maiden bound and gagged to the castle. Following Seth’s orders, the young soldier carried the girl up the stairs and tied her to the bed in the Beast’s bedchamber.

  Gwyneth did the best she could, ripping off the woman’s clothes, cleaning the woman up and preparing her for the Beast, but she disapproved of the situation. Gwyneth had no words to say to Beauty when she walked into the chamber and saw the naked girl tied to the bed being readied for the Beast’s arrival. Beauty was hurt and stunned to see the lass in the bed, almost as afraid as the bound and gagged woman was. She barely had time to react when the Beast walked in.

  The Beast was truly confounded by Beauty’s reaction. First and foremost, she was hurt as if he’d betrayed her, even though there were no marriage vows between them and never would be. Then there was the anger, simmering just below the surface as if she were ready to explode. She stood there staring at him for several minutes, never saying a word. Her eyes did her talking for her and they spoke volumes. Finally, she asked the Beast in a very cold and stiffly formal voice if she could leave the castle and return to her home.

  “But why Beauty?” the Beast asked completely puzzled. “Why would you want to break your vow?”

  “I’m not staying here to watch you carry on with another woman!” Beauty’s temper flared quickly but she struggled to hold on to it.

  “Why?” The question was low and ominous. “What do you care if I bed another woman? Remember, you did not wed me, you sold yourself to me for your brother’s life. You’re not my wife truly wed before God. You’re just a possession, like my falcon or my horse. By what right do you have any say in what I do?”

  “Idiot! You mangy cur of a man!” Beauty’s control snapped completely. “I’m not a falcon or a horse, I’m a woman who did what she had to do to save her brother. No man owns me, not even the mighty Beast!”

  She slapped him sharply across the face and trod sharply on his foot, then drew back her leg to kick his shin; her hand reached for the small dirk she wore at her waist before she realized what she had done. She had attacked the Beast!

  Both of them stood there stunned and shocked for a long moment before, with a sharp cry, Beauty gathered up her skirts and ran. She made it down the stairs and into the great hall before the Beast followed in a rage. He ran, catching Beauty just outside the great wooden door.

  As soon as Gwyneth saw the Beast follow Beauty, she took some initiative for one of the few times in her life. Smiling, she went upstairs and untied the helpless woman. She gave her a few coins and sent her back to the village with Seth to accompany her.

  Furious, the Beast dragged Beauty kicking, punching and cursing him, into the stables and threw her down into the straw. She looked up at him and berated him with words he was shocked to hear falling from her lips. Indeed, he was shocked to learn that she even knew such words. Standing over her, he reached for his belt.

  “Nay!” Beauty pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “You promised, not the belt, not ever again!”

  The Beast gave a mighty roar of frustration before bringing his fierce anger under control. Looking down at Beauty he remembered his promise. With considerable effort, almost a visible effort, he calmed himself down and thought for a moment. He soon realized that Beauty was jealous of the woman and he became secretly pleased by Beauty’s reaction to the maiden.

  A long-abandoned, nearly forgotten devilish streak took the place of his anger. Lowering himself to the clean, fresh straw beside her, he rolled her over, lifted her skirts and began to tickle and spank her playfully. He covered her bottom with loud, stinging slaps without any brutality behind them.

  The spanking was more love play than anger, so it wasn’t very harsh. Nevertheless, Beauty’s bare bottom began to blush a becoming pink. He leaned over to nip one pink cheek. She yelled angrily at him, kicking him and calling him names as she struggled to get free.

  As she struggled, she got her mouth filled with straw and had to spit it out in a very unladylike manner in order to continue to berate him. Suddenly the struggling, shrieking and cursing, not to mention the unmistakable sound of slaps connecting with bare skin, drew an observer.

  “What are you doin’ to my sister?” Tom bellowed, his love for Beauty overcoming his common sense and blinding him to his fear and hatred of the Beast.

  “What does it look like?” the Beast yelled back as he continued to spank Beauty. Indeed, the slaps became quite a bit harder now that there was a witness. “This hoyden actually had the nerve to strike me! She even drew her dagger on me!”

  “Beauty! You struck
the Beast? Threatened him with your dagger? Are you crazy? He could have you hung for that!” Tom was shocked to the core.

  “He deserved it!” Beauty screamed. “It was one thing when he told me he was thinking of taking another woman to his bed. I thought I was angry then but now, now he actually has some strumpet in the bedchamber stripped naked and tied to the bed. Now I know what real anger is!”

  “Beauty!” Tom was even more shocked. “Are you jealous? Is that possible? Have you come to care for him that much? Have you forgotten who he is?”

  “Fool! You’re as daft as he is!” Beauty gasped as the smart spanking continued. “Jealous of the Beast! How could I be jealous? This lout thinks I’m just another possession like his horse or his dog.”

  “More like a bitch,” the Beast said roughly. Staying his hand for a moment he asked, “Are ye jealous, lass?”

  “Nay!” Beauty spat out the answer.

  “Are you?” His voice dropped ominously and the spanking resumed. In fact his hands came down a little faster and harder.

  “Dolt! Idiot!” she yelled, still squirming and struggling to get away. “Bastard!”

  “Are you jealous of me, lass?” His tone was implacable as he spanked a little harder still.

  Beauty stopped squirming and turned her head to look back at the Beast. “Please M’lord. I am not jealous of you. How could I be? By your own words, I’m just a possession like your horse. Is your horse jealous when you ride another?”

  “Since when has my horse been as difficult to get along with as you are, and given me trouble the way you do?” the Beast mused aloud, laughing. “Mayhap there is some difference between you and my horse. I’ll admit that you are much more fun to ride.”

  The spanking abruptly stopped.

  There was a long moment in which no one spoke before the Beast quietly said, “Leave us, Tom.”

  As Tom hesitated, the Beast repeated more firmly, “Your sister’s all right, man. Now go. Leave us!”