Beauty Within

by Emily L Goodman

  “That doesn’t give him the right to be a jerk about it.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Mrs. Martel patted her arm with the hand not holding the knife. “But it makes it easier to understand, doesn’t it, dear?”

  Callista was not about to admit that she was right. Instead, she stalked off in the general direction of Griffin’s suite—at least, she was fairly sure that was the direction he had been heading when she’d stormed down here to get away from him.

  Fine. She’d play nice and have a conversation instead of just yelling at him—but he had better be willing to negotiate, because he couldn’t just dangle freedom in front of her, then yank it away again like he had been toying with her.

  She’d live in his castle. She’d play by his rules, and she’d try to fall in love with him, because she knew full well that was the key to breaking the stupid curse.

  But if he wanted her to fall in love with him, he was going to have to get down off of his royal high horse and admit that she was a person with feelings and needs, too!

  She was working herself up into a righteous fury again—not that it was all that surprising—when she bounced off of a broad chest.

  Griffin caught her arms, lifting her off the ground before she could fall. His lips twitched with what looked like a return of his good humor as he looked down at her. Seeing her eyes still snapping, however, he sobered. “Would you go for a ride with me this morning?” he asked her seriously—and very formally.

  Callista glared at him. “It’s not the same as going into town,” she muttered.

  “No, it’s not,” he agreed patiently.

  She sighed theatrically. “Fine.” She did enjoy riding—and she did particularly enjoy riding with him, though she wasn’t going to admit it for a good, long while.

  Especially not if he kept acting like this.

  “Thank you.” Griffin hesitated for a moment, clearly gaging her temper, then offered her his arm.

  She considered ignoring it; but then she remembered what Mrs. Martel had said, got a look at the vulnerability in Griffin’s eyes, and took it.

  His shoulders relaxed a little bit—but it still took him halfway to the stables to speak to her again. “I’m sorry,” he told her.

  “For what?” Callista grumbled.

  “For trying to control you. This year might be mine, but your time still belongs to you,” he pointed out. “And if you’d like to go down into town and speak with your friends there, I shouldn’t try to prevent it.”

  “I’m glad you recognize that,” she said grumpily.

  “Are you going to forgive me?”

  “I’m thinking about it.” She didn’t look up into his eyes as she said those words. It was a lot harder to be angry with him when she looked at him—especially since she knew full well that keeping his temper under control was an ongoing battle.

  He nodded slowly. “Is there anything I can do to improve those odds?”

  Callista favored him with a faint smile. “Let’s ride fast,” she suggested.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Beast

  “Well, if it isn’t our mystery girl!” Callista jumped as Frederick appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. “We were beginning to wonder if we had dreamed you up.”

  “Yes,” added Barrett, stepping up on her other side. “We were quite sure that Arabella and Juliette had become a trio, and yet it’s been more than a week, and no one has seen a trace of you!”

  “It was like,” Frederick mused, “you had disappeared into thin air.” He looked across at her at his friend, a calculating look in his eyes. “I believe we could work something about that into a poem, Barrett. What do you think?”

  “Oh, I—” Barrett began.

  “Hm— ‘The mystery maid from nowhere came—’”

  Callista cleared her throat, breaking him off mid-recitation. “I’m sorry,” she said politely. “But I, ah, really was looking for Arabella and Juliette. You don’t happen to know where they are, do you?” She was really hoping that they would be in the restaurant Arabella had taken her to last week. She’d come prepared to purchase her lunch—and perhaps to go wandering through the bookshop again. She’d gotten the feeling that Garrett might prefer adventure stories to romances, and since she liked them, too, she’d decided that she might be able to broaden her little library a bit while she was in town.

  Not to mention the fact that she’d already read the romances, and while the escape had been wonderful, they had also left her a bit…moony. Not out of sorts—not really—but altogether too interested in a subject that she shouldn’t even be considering, especially with a man that she’d known for only a handful of weeks.

  “Say no more, fair maiden.” Frederick made her jump again. Lost in her own thoughts, she’d half forgotten that she had spoken to him to begin with. “We will escort you to your friends.”

  “Oh, you could just tell me—” she protested.

  Both of them ignored her, each wrapping an arm through one of hers so that she was quite effectively trapped between them. The thought made her frown; but it was evident, as they turned her toward the sandwich shop, that neither Frederick nor Barrett intended any harm. They were just…

  Puppies. That was the thought that came to her mind: young puppies who were determined to make their new friend like them, but who weren’t just a hundred percent sure how to go about making their friend happy.

  They did have a great sense of humor, though; and as long as Frederick didn’t get started on poetry—she was quick to head him off whenever he tried, as she loathed bad poetry and had no desire to hear it—she found that they were excellent company. They had her in stitches by the time she reached the sandwich shop, where they escorted her inside with a whirl that somehow allowed both of them to continue claiming her arms in spite of the fact that there was no way all three of them could have fit through that door.

  “Callista!” Arabella’s face lit up as soon as she saw her. “I was beginning to think that you were a figment of my imagination! You must tell me where you’ve been.”

  “Oh, I—” Callista flashed a smile. “I’ve been busy,” she said instead. No sense explaining something her new friends wouldn’t remember five minutes after it came out of her mouth anyway.

  Arabella pouted.

  “But I’m here now,” Callista pointed out.

  “That’s true!” Arabella flashed a bright smile. “And look—you’ve found Frederick and Barrett for us!” She gave Frederick a sweet smile that was only the slightest bit too sweet.

  “Indeed, fair lady.” Frederick swept into a bow—except that he forgot to let go of Callista’s arm in the process, resulting in her being pulled along with him.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed.

  Barrett, on her other side, was holding on equally tightly. He ended up bowing along with them, except that he overbalanced; and before Callista could save herself, all three of them tumbled to the floor.

  She detached her hands from them in one frustrated gesture, huffing her annoyance.

  Arabella clapped her hands over her mouth, clearly trying not to giggle.

  “I’m so sorry.” Barrett leapt to his feet, his face flaming hot. “I didn’t mean—you must know I wouldn’t—”

  “Allow me to assist, fair lady.” Frederick jumped to his feet, clearly intending to offer her his hand. Unfortunately, he became tangled in her skirts, and before she could even decide what he was doing, he ended up sitting on the ground beside her again.

  Arabella let the first giggle escape.

  “Oh, it’s all right for you to laugh. You’re not the one in the floor!” Callista protested.

  “No, you’re right. It’s not kind at all, and I’m so sorry, only, oh, Callista!” Arabella jumped up from her table, holding out her hands to help her friend up off the floor.

  Callista took them, well aware that at this point, there was no saving her substantially bruised dignity. At least the boys had clearly fared no better: both of them had brilliant b
lushes creeping up the backs of their ears, which they were struggling to hide by making a grand production of helping one another up off of the floor.

  “Really, boys.” Arabella’s tongue clucked reprovingly. “We want Callista to like us, not go running off to her secret residence never to return.”

  “I’ll return.” Callista regained enough of her sense of humor to wink at her friend. “Where else am I going to get new books?”

  “Oh, are you headed back to see Uncle Vincent?” Arabella asked brightly.

  “Before I leave town for the day,” Callista agreed. “I’d thought I might stop in at the sweet shop, too.”

  “I told you you’d be hooked,” Arabella joked. “Honestly, if I’d spend less time at the sweet shop, I wouldn’t have to worry quite so much about the fit of my dresses.” She put her hands on her hips—which, of course, only served to emphasize her tiny waist. Callista was quite sure that Arabella, like her sisters, knew exactly what that gesture would accomplish.

  It also earned her a round of protests as both Frederick and Barrett—finally removed from the floor—assured her that she was of course quite lovely and that, as far as they could see, there was no reason why she should have to worry the least bit over the fit of her dresses.

  Callista rolled her eyes—but only when Arabella wasn’t looking, since she didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She really was quite lovely, and certainly…Callista glanced down, then shrugged uncomfortably. Yes, Arabella was more slender than she was by far.

  She sighed softly. It seemed she was destined to find herself surrounded by lovely people. At least while she was with Griffin, there were few other people for him to compare her to—because she was sure that if he ever did, she was certainly going to come up wanting.

  After all, what kind of princess would she be, really?

  “Callista? Are you with us?” Juliette asked curiously.

  “What? Oh, yes, of course.” She flashed a quick smile that didn’t entirely make it to her eyes. All of the others, still engaged in teasing one another, failed to notice. “So tell me—what part of the town are you going to show me today?”

  “Well,” Juliette said slowly, “there is the ice cream parlor—but oh, you said you were going to visit the sweet shop.”

  “We could do both!” Arabella declared.

  Juliette made a face at her. “Weren’t you the one just complaining about your waistline?” she demanded. “Really, Arabella, you must make up your mind. We won’t be able to keep up!” It was, Callista knew, the type of thing that only one truly best friend could say to another—the kind of jest that would be taken in fun by the right person, but which would sound terrible coming from her lips.

  It also helped that both of the other girls were pretty.

  She smiled brightly. “I don’t mind both.” She could just have a small ice cream; and maybe she would encourage Griffin to take her on a few longer walks. That sounded like it might be a better road to nicely-fitting dresses than practically living at the sweet shop, right?

  “Well, off we go, then,” Frederick declared. “Unless, fair lady, you’d like to go ahead and visit the bookshop? I mean, it is right there.”

  “No.” She smiled cheerfully. “I’d rather not have to carry the books all around town!” Griffin had been even more generous this time, and she still had funds left over from her last visit. She wondered if he was hoping that she would bring back more books—and if he was, she was determined to be sure that he had them.

  “We would be delighted to carry them for you!” Frederick proclaimed.

  “That may well be so,” Callista agreed, “but I still prefer to wait. I’ll stop just before I head back—” She stopped, not sure of what word was appropriate. Could she call the castle “home?” Well, it was her home for a year; and anyway, it was the word closest to what they would remember.

  Except that none of her friends seemed to notice the missing word. In fact, they glossed right over it.

  Callista grinned. At least the curse did have its uses—like, for example, covering up some of her social inadequacies.

  It happened, in fact, every time any of the others tried to ask her anything about where she was staying. From Arabella’s joking complaint that she couldn’t issue Callista an invitation to anything if she didn’t know where to send it to Barrett’s calm offer to escort her back home when the shopping was done, they seemed to gloss right over any mention of her residence or the castle as though it didn’t exist.

  It was fascinating—and a little bit sad. Any of these people would have made great friends for Griffin; and she was sure that among them, there was at least someone who would have been able to see through the beastly appearance and get to know him, at least be his friend—but they were destined to forget him. If ever they saw him, she was sure that the memory wouldn’t last for more than a minute.

  She made her way back to the castle alone, having waved off Barrett and Frederick’s increasing desire to escort her. She wasn’t even sure what would happen if they tried to walk back to the castle with her. Would they get distracted halfway there? Escort her all the way home, only to discover that they couldn’t remember where it was when they were ready to go back again? She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to run the risk that they would end up wandering the forest alone at night, especially if the curse made them particularly disoriented.

  It’s not fair, she admitted silently to herself; but then she was back in the castle, hurrying over to Griffin with a smile on her face. He might not have been as surprised this time, but he was still pleased that she had returned—with more stories to tell, of course.

  “I brought you something,” she told him, suddenly feeling a little shy about it. He had pressed so many gifts on her, was certainly being generous with spending money so that she could shop to her heart’s content. She wasn’t sure,however, if he would appreciate the return gesture.

  “A present for me?” Griffin looked shocked.

  When was the last time he got a present? It hit her, then, that there might not be many opportunities for people to bring gifts to him. Mrs. Picard and Mrs. Martel, she had discovered, made excuses not to leave the castle unless they absolutely had to—Hemsworth thought that they were afraid that if they went, they would never be able to make it back again, and they cared enough for both Griffin and the castle itself that the thought was appalling. Hemsworth, on the other hand, was unlikely to think much about gifts at all.

  “Here.” She pressed the bag from the sweet shop into his hand: the chocolate orange dessert he’d told her had been his favorite.

  It was a long second before he answered. In fact, he ended up staring down into the bag for a long time, as though he hadn’t quite been able to process what it was.

  “Well, if you don’t want it,” Callista began, feeling embarrassed.

  “No. Oh, no, I want it,” Griffin said quickly. “I—thank you.” His voice sounded oddly thick, but it wasn’t the beast-like growl that she was used to hearing when he became angry or frustrated. “I—this was very thoughtful.” He’d fallen back on formality. She wondered what that meant—and hoped that it meant he was grateful.

  Callista grinned. “You’re very welcome,” she informed him, unaware that he voice emerged more prim and proper than usual. Apparently, some of those courtly manners were starting to wear off.

  He offered her his arm, still looking a little off-balance. “Callista,” he informed her, “You never fail to surprise me.”

  She wasn’t sure if that meant that she had done a good thing or a bad one—but the gleam in his eyes suggested that it just might be a good one after all.

  As tempting as it might have been to spend half of her days down in the town, Callista was still determined to discover everything there was to know about her new home—and there were still fascinating things to discover. Though she had made her way through most of the rooms on the main floors, the castle stretched on for ages—disused, certainly, but still filled w
ith the remnants of the people who had once called it home. She often took time to explore after breakfast, when Griffin was taking care of his other pursuits. He hadn’t invited her, yet, to see the gym that he’d built in his suite; and while he played for her often in the evenings now, she knew that he preferred to practice alone, where she wouldn’t be able to hear his mistakes.

  He’d given her the freedom to explore at will; and so she did, browsing through rooms that had been shut up for years, looking through the dusty artifacts that made it all too evident that many of the people who had left them behind had, at least at the time, fully intended to return.

  Bedrooms with clothes still hanging in the wardrobes and perfume still sitting on the dressers. Sitting rooms where books had been left out unfinished. It was those scenes, in many ways, that made her saddest: the scenes that showed that people had lived in the castle, carried out their lives as normal there right up until the curse had kicked into effect.

  When she’d had enough of that for one day, Callista peeked out the window to look at the sun. She knew that Griffin wouldn’t come downstairs until lunch time. He had plenty of things that he needed to take care of this morning, and getting to know one another or not, courtship or not, she couldn’t command every minute of his time. Unfortunately, it had been a while since her last visit to the town. She was out of reading material, out of things to do. She was wondering how Arabella was progressing with her reading studies, even starting to miss Frederick’s terrible poetry.

  She sighed softly. The invisible servants had apparently decided that they’d taken a liking to her. If she was too bored for too long, they would catch Griffin’s attention to send him to her, and she didn’t want them to do that—didn’t want them breaking in every time she wasn’t perfectly entertained.

  That didn’t change the fact that she was tired of exploring, tired of the empty castle. She could go down and talk with Mrs. Martel, but the older woman had become increasingly quiet as her daughter’s pregnancy progressed, wishing that she could travel to be with her when the baby was born even though she was terrified to leave the castle. It was a difficult balance and one, she thought, that the older woman wasn’t handling well right now. Mrs. Picard might allow her to help with whatever household chore had caught her attention…