Theo cleared his throat. He looked to Griffin, who shook his head slightly: he didn’t need to say anything, at least not now.
He nodded understanding—though his head did tilt in a silent question.
Griffin just smiled—and held Callista’s chair out for her.
Erin snorted softly.
Theo rolled his eyes—which helped keep Griffin’s smile on his face.
“What about you? Did you have fun?” Theo asked Erin directly.
She shrugged, still watching Griffin as though she expected him to bite her. He’d moved to help Stasi with her chair, letting Theo help Erin, but she was obviously terrified that he would be the one to come over to her; she’d hurried to seat herself before either of them could.
With a shrug of his own, Theo took his chair and didn’t comment.
“I liked the town,” Erin said decisively. “And there was a young man—Barrett—he writes quite lovely poetry.”
“You should tell him that you like it and have him write to you after you leave,” Callista informed her. “He’s been sharing it with Arabella, and she, ah, doesn’t care for it.”
“How could she not care for it? The man’s going to be a poet someday, you mark my words!” Erin declared.
“Well, good. If he’s sending it to you, you can rave over it as it deserves,” Callista said cheerfully.
Griffin smirked, suddenly grateful for the mask even though he was fairly sure Erin wouldn’t recognize that particular expression on the face of a beast. Callista had shown him some of Barrett’s poems. While they weren’t terrible, they weren’t exactly his idea of fine reading material, either—and he had become much less picky over the past several years, since his selection of books was now officially limited to what was actually in his library, unless Hemsworth happened to bring him something new.
“I’d like that, actually.” Erin looked suddenly cheerful at the thought. He was fairly sure it was the first time he had actually seen a smile on her face.
It made her prettier, somehow.
“Then make sure you give him your address,” Stasi informed her.
“I will. I’ll make sure I take a piece of paper down with me the next time we go.” Erin straightened. “Could we go back down into town tomorrow?”
Callista glanced up at him.
He shrugged. He would have preferred to spend some time with her, but he was also well aware that Erin wouldn’t take well to his presence hanging over them all day. They might as well go and enjoy themselves.
Maybe by the time the two weeks were over, she would have managed to look at him without sneering.
“We could do that. Oh, but you don’t have to have me with you to go,” Callista informed her. “It’s perfectly safe—I walk down all the time without company.”
She didn’t, often—Hemsworth usually followed her, or called one of the boys from the stable to do it—but they did occasionally lose track of her, or she’d come up to the castle earlier than expected. He might not be able to follow her himself to keep her safe, but he certainly hadn’t left her safety to chance.
Theo looked over at him.
Griffin wished he could show the other man his face—because he was sure that his protectiveness would show in full measure, making it entirely obvious that no, he had never once allowed Callista to go walking to and from town completely on her own.
He would, however, make the same arrangements for her sisters if need be. It wasn’t as though there weren’t plenty of stable lads to take care of that particular chore; and most of them would probably frustrate Erin far less than he would.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Erin was playing with her fork, looking unsure. “I’m not sure that I should go down there without you. I mean, they’re your friends, after all.”
“And? You can make friends, too,” Callista pointed out.
“And you won’t mind?” Erin pressed.
“If you start a friendship with some perfectly nice people? Why would I mind?” Callista demanded.
Erin looked uncomfortable. “Well, some girls—that is—”
“Oh, really, Erin. I’m not some girl!” Callista sighed, exasperated. “Go down and talk with them all you want, whenever you want, okay? Just remember that they won’t remember anything you say about the castle, so it does you no good to talk about it.”
“Right. And you could have warned me about that, by the way!” Erin informed her teasingly.
“I tried. You wouldn’t listen.” Callista put her nose up in the air in perfect little-sister elegance.
Griffin hid his chuckle by coughing into his hand—and then wished that he hadn’t drawn attention to himself in even that small way as Erin’s eyes snapped at him. What was her problem, anyway?
“Well, I think I’ll go back tomorrow whether anyone else does or not.” This was said so pointedly that there was no doubt in his mind what was supposed to come next.
“I’ll come with you!” Millicent declared.
“I wouldn’t mind going back,” Anastasia agreed. “But—Cally? I’m really here to spend time with you.”
“We can go back to the village,” Cally promised her. “We’ve got two whole weeks—that’s plenty of time to do anything you’d like!”
Two weeks. He sighed softly. He’d been wondering, but hadn’t wanted to ask; and while he was sure Theo would have understood his desire to set a time limit on the amount of time he had to spend in Erin’s company, he didn’t want Callista to have to think about her family leaving so soon, either.
“Well, glad that’s settled.” Theo rubbed his hands together. “I might even accompany you. I understand there’s quite a bookshop in town?”
“Oh, there is!” Callista told him. “And Vincent is wonderful—he knows where every book in the store is, and he’ll help you find one that’s just what you want, if you ask him.”
“I guess I’ll have to do some asking, then.” Theo made a face at her.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” she wanted to know.
“Nothing specific.” He shrugged. “I’m thinking about investing in some more sheep for the northern slopes back home, if I can find a breed that will mingle well with ours.”
“You’re changing the breeds?”
“They need some fresh blood, and I haven’t been pleased with the offerings at the last few fairs. But I want to be sure I’m not mixing breeds that don’t go well together. And—” Theo made a face. “Well, you know I’m a sucker for a good adventure.”
“Oh, there are so many to choose from!”
Griffin chuckled at that. There certainly were a wide array of adventure stories—and Callista came back with one or two more every time she went into town. They had both read them all, too. Sometimes, he would read them first; other times, she would read them and then pass them on to him.
It had made for some lively discussions. They often had very different opinions about the characters and the settings—but at the same time, there were moments when they were in perfect agreement, too.
As the conversation lulled for a moment, the main course delivered, Griffin looked down at his plate for the first time—and made a face. Crab. Not only was it incredibly difficult to get the meat out of the legs with his clawed hands, it came out in tiny shreds that had to be fed through the mask one by one.
Callista followed his expression perfectly. Without missing a beat, she cracked one of the legs, slid out the meat in a large chunk, and set it over on his plate.
He squeezed her shoulder gratefully as he took a bite. Doing it himself, he nearly always shredded the crab completely. At least she was doing a better job of finding larger pieces that could go in his mouth.
She just smiled at him—and repeated the gesture. For every piece that she ate of her own, she slid another one over onto his plate. It was fairly inconspicuous.
At least until she did it just as Erin looked up.
Erin gasped. “Callista!”
“What?”
>
“It’s bad manners to put your food on someone else’s plate!” Erin sounded appalled.
“It’s fine.” Griffin stepped in quickly, not wanting Callista embarrassed even in front of her own family. “She was just—” Just what? He sighed inwardly, realizing that there was only one way forward. “Cracking the legs for me.” He held up his clawed hands a bit self-deprecatingly. “Unfortunately, I’m not very good at getting them open.” He hadn’t been particularly good at it with human hands. Doing it with huge, beastly hands that ended in claws…well, it was a mess.
He couldn’t imagine what Mrs. Martel had been thinking, serving this particular dish today of all days. Perhaps she had meant for it to be a treat, but he couldn’t see where it could possibly be a treat for him.
He liked seafood. In fact, it was one of his favorites. He just felt that crab legs could have waited until he was, for example, not surrounded by the members of Callista’s family.
“She’s doing what?” Erin’s voice was high-pitched.
“Oh, let it go, Erin,” Theo told her irritably. “It’s not like she’s feeding him like a mother bird. Calm down already, would you?”
“I—I—” Her chest heaved in indignation.
“Breathe,” Stasi recommended.
Somehow, Erin managed to get through the rest of that course without letting him have it again; but the conversation was more stilted, difficult, and Griffin could feel the weight of her eyes on him.
Callista continued placing meat on his plate with the kind of unconcerned air that told him that she wasn’t letting it get to her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite as composed as she. His hand shook, making it difficult to get the crab to his mouth; and in the end, he ate little more than Erin did throughout the rest of the course.
Dessert was towering confections with icing, whipped cream, and sprinkles. They were gorgeous—and Mrs. Martel, he was now quite sure, was showing off, since she had plenty of people to cook for for the first time since the curse had hit.
The trouble was, he couldn’t manage even a bite of it without making quite a mess of his mask.
Callista’s eyes rested on him for a long moment. Take it off. He could practically hear her whispering it to him.
He shook his head ever so slightly. He’d try the dessert—which he was sure would be quite good—later.
Erin folded her arms over her chest, glaring at him as though she dared him to mention the mask. She, he noticed, wasn’t reaching for the dessert, either—nor was Millicent.
“Watching my figure,” Millicent joked.
“I’ve already had quite enough dessert today,” Erin added firmly.
Theo rolled his eyes, digging into his dessert with abandon. “You all are the ones missing out,” he informed them.
Millicent made a face. “When you have to dance in front of hundreds of people, you can tell me about missing out on dessert!” she informed him. “But we’ve already had dessert once today, and I can’t afford to gain any weight while I’m here—I have a costume to fit in.”
“Do you need a place to dance?” Griffin asked her kindly, well aware that Callista wasn’t picking up her spoon, either. That was unusual for her. She loved dessert—and in fact, he was fairly sure that Mrs. Martel took delight in just how much she enjoyed it.
“I—well—I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.” Millicent looked hopeful.
“Would you prefer a practice room, or a stage?” He wasn’t going to look at the tower of dessert, because he was going to end up trying to fit it through the slot on his mask—and that was going to end in disaster. Icing in his fur wasn’t the best combination to begin with. Icing in his fur through the mask, well…
It had only taken one or two attempts to realize there was no way for that to end well.
“There’s a stage?” Millicent whispered. “Cally managed to miss that on her tour.”
“It’s in part of the castle that’s shut away—well, we don’t exactly have a use for the room right now.”
“I guess that makes sense. I just—a whole stage?”
“It’s in the east wing.” He smiled at her, though he knew she wouldn’t see it. “I’ll have it clean for you tomorrow. In fact…” He looked around him. Yes—there were still invisible servants in the room. He was fairly sure they were always in the room, or at least that they were there whenever he wasn’t sleeping, but at the moment, he could see several things being accomplished as if by magic, which meant that there were enough of them to accomplish the deed. “Millicent requires that the stage be cleaned by tomorrow morning,” he proclaimed, snapping his fingers twice to be sure that he had their attention. “Please see to it.”
“Thank you.” Millicent’s eyes shone. “Being able to practice on a real stage—it will make all the difference. And since I’ll be exercising…” She reached for her spoon. “I could try just a bite or two.”
“It shouldn’t be missed,” Griffin encouraged her.
“Well, Cally is,” Erin said snidely.
“Cally,” Callista informed her, “is going to take her dessert out to the garden with Griffin after dinner, when both of us can eat in peace.”
His heart warmed. She was waiting, not because she was full or disinterested in dessert, but for him?
Oh, yes, he was glad he had claimed the right to court this girl—and he suddenly found himself wishing that he was courting her as a human, that he dared try to kiss her, because he could have for that comment alone.
“You’re waiting for him?” There was so much venom in Erin’s voice that it made Griffin’s blood run cold.
“Why not?” Callista gave her sister a challenging look. “When he’s with just me, he can take the mask off.” She rested her hand on top of his on the table deliberately.
Erin shoved her chair back. “This is ridiculous,” she declared furiously. “You’re all sitting here looking at him as if—as if he’s a man.”
“He is,” Theo said grimly. It was, Griffin thought, a warning.
If it was, however, Erin quite ignored it. “A man?” she demanded. “A man?” Her voice rose higher, becoming more shrill with each word. “He’s a monster! The rest of you might not have seen what’s underneath that mask, but I have. I have!” The last sentence was slightly hysterical. “And you’re all sitting here playing pretend with the monster as though it’s your friend!”
“He is my friend. He’s been my friend from the moment I arrived here.” Oh, there was such loyalty in Cally’s voice! It was almost enough to soothe his bruised feelings, to make him feel at least a little more like a man instead of the beast he knew full well that he was.
“He’s a beast.” Erin’s voice lost the shrill note. Now, it was simply filled with fury. “And he may never be a man. Callista, enough is enough. If you’re not a prisoner here, if you can really leave whenever you like, then let’s put an end to this and go home!”
“No.” Callista’s voice was very low, soft. “But I think that you should.”
Everyone froze, staring at her. Griffin hardly dared to breathe.
“What?” Erin demanded.
“I said, I think you should leave.” Callista took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that this was a mistake. You don’t want to be here—don’t even want to look at him, much less talk to him. You’ve been nothing but rude since you arrived; and quite frankly, Erin, I think that it’s time to say enough is enough.”
“I’m not—”
“Go home,” Callista repeated. “All of you. I know you can’t just let her go by herself.” She threw a sad smile to Theo and Anastasia. “It’s been good to see you—it really has—but I think this was a very bad idea.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Theo told her gently. “At least not for all of us.”
“We’ll—we’ll come back,” Stasi began.
“It’s all right.” Callista gave them each a smile. “Just—get her out of the castle. Please.” She turned and walked out of the room.
Griffin
followed her, not sure what he was walking into—not even sure whether or not he dared breathe. She was sending them away because of him?
He wasn’t worth that. Wasn’t worth her missing her entire family for so long. She would be here for another nine months—that was a very long time to not see her sisters, her favorite brother.
“They’ll come back at a time when she’s not with them,” Callista said flatly.
He jumped, realizing that she’d heard him following her. She didn’t turn around, didn’t look at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. She’s done nothing but pick fights with me since she’s been here—and I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”
“They did come all this way.”
“And it’s a very long way to come for a fight,” she informed him.
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Now she did look at him, her eyes too knowing and too sad for her face. “It’s not your fault, Griffin. You said the curse requires someone who can see beauty within the beast, right?”
He nodded hesitantly.
“Well, then, I guess Erin just can’t.”
He went to her and, very cautiously lest she pull away, put his arms around her.
She leaned into him just as carefully. Neither of them was sure where this was leading—but she didn’t tense in his arms, nor did she look the least bit uncomfortable.
Her brother and sisters left early the next morning. Theo was kind; Stasi was sweet.
Erin and Millicent gave both of them the cold shoulder. Griffin hadn’t expected anything else, but he hated it for Callista’s sake.
She didn’t cry as they drove away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Curse Explained
“Can I ask you a question?” Callista’s voice was low. She was afraid to look all the way up at him. In fact, she found herself staring down, playing with her spoon; because for all that the beastly face was difficult to read, it had become familiar to her over the past weeks. Now, if she hurt him, she would know—would see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice.
“You can ask.” Griffin, she could tell, was doing his best to keep his face unreadable.
Beauty Within Page 21