Beauty's Cursed Beast Page 5

  “If you’ll promise to stay even when he’s difficult? Name your price, then double it. That’s what I’d pay to get my best friend the help he needs.” He glanced between Fabrice and Belle, noticing how they were constantly taking turns guarding each other. “Wouldn’t you do the same for your father?”

  Without skipping a beat, Belle replied, “I would do anything for my family.” Then, taking a breath, she nodded. “Even take on a more challenging patient like Mr. Fontaine.”

  Fabrice shook his head. “No, Belle. We’ll find a way. We always do. He’s rough, and there’s anger there that’s set in deep. You shouldn’t have to be around someone like that.”

  Her hand slipped into her father’s and squeezed, but she didn’t drop eye contact with Henry. “I want a contract, and I need the first payment up front. There’s no point in working to pay the bills if our home is taken away from us before the first paycheck comes in.”

  “Fair point. He needs round-the-clock care. I can’t be here all the time, and I’ll sleep easier if I know someone is here to watch him.”

  Belle kept raising and lowering her chin – her constant battle between bravery and decorum. “If you’re asking me to give up my other clients and move in, you’ll have to replace my wages.”

  “Try me,” Henry challenged playfully, a smile teasing his sculpted lips.

  Belle’s voice came out quiet but unwavering, with a hint of both shame and pride. “I make twenty-seven grand a year right now.”

  Henry rubbed the nape of his neck. “I shouldn’t have told you to double it.”

  Belle swallowed hard and touched a lock of her hair that the wind had knocked loose from the sloppy bun. “It’s alright. We’ve gotten by so far just fine with the job I have now.”

  Henry shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I meant I should’ve told you to triple it. You can’t get by on that. How does a hundred thousand grab you?”

  Belle stood stock-still – a deer caught in headlights. “You can’t be serious. What are you expecting me to do for him for a hundred grand? I only do in-home care. Cleaning and cooking is fine, but I’m not a geisha on the side.”

  Henry chuckled at the firmness of her frown. “I never assumed otherwise. It’s for in-home care plus housekeeping duties. It might seem like a lot of money now, but after a week dealing with Adam, I’m sure you’ll demand a raise.” His eyes grew serious. “Ask me for a raise before you up and quit on him. I mean it. He’s gone through fourteen housekeepers in less than ten years, and I’m not sure how many in-home nurses. He’s… difficult. But I’ve got a feeling about you. I think you might be just what this house needs.” Henry extended his hand to Belle, willing her to release her father’s grip to take him up on his offer.

  Belle stared at the prince’s hand for a few moments, weighing the sizeable pros and cons. The thing that tipped it was when her father coughed into his sleeve. He needed medicine they couldn’t afford.

  Belle rolled her shoulders back and gripped Henry’s hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  5

  A Unique Wardrobe

  It didn’t take long to move Belle into Adam’s home. Henry hired movers to expedite the entire process. They unpacked the last of her boxes in her new bedroom within forty-eight hours, which gave her just enough time to cash her first advanced check from Henry, and bring their mortgage up to date. Other nurses were more than thrilled to pick up her dropped patients, so they could have more hours and pay their many bills. Belle had poured over Adam’s charts from his previous nurses while her meager belongings were moved to her new address.

  Adam had been diagnosed as having major depressive disorder with psychosis, and was prescribed pills that he refused to take. He was agoraphobic, and didn’t leave the house unless under extreme coercion. Belle’s brow furrowed at the injuries he’d been treated for. Some had been self-inflicted years ago, but now it seemed he was mostly treated for wolf bites.

  She shivered and hoped his property wasn’t lousy with the likes of the Lupine. They could be a murderous bunch when provoked.

  Adam locked himself in one of his many offices on the second floor and didn’t greet her on the morning she arrived. He was gruff, calling through the door when she knocked. “I don’t care what Henry says. I don’t need a nurse. I don’t need a housekeeper. I don’t need anyone taking up space in my home.”

  Belle blinked at the closed door. “Do you want me to take my things and go?” She closed her eyes and prayed that wasn’t the case. They desperately needed the money, and she’d already spent the first check on bills.

  A second voice surprised her, coming from inside the office. “Sir, you can’t send her away. Henry loves you. At least humor him. Give her a month.”

  “Yes, give me a month. Please, Mr. Fontaine. If you don’t need me, then I’ll leave after thirty days.”

  The long pause didn’t do anything to quell Belle’s nerves. When Adam finally answered, it was with a growl of aggression she couldn’t imagine she deserved this early on. “Fine! If it takes a month to pacify Henry, then you can stay for one month. You’ll see that I’m fine how I am. I like my space, so stick to the east wing. The west wing is mine, and I don’t want to see you in it.”

  Belle debated between arguing and backing down, playing with a lock of her hair as she decided which version of herself she wanted to be. “Yes, sir.”

  One month. Belle began mentally repacking her things and moving them back into the West Village. How she wanted this to work, but if he wouldn’t even let her examine him, there wasn’t much hope.

  Belle moved through too many hallways to her bedroom on the first floor, her chin low at the dressing-down she didn’t feel she deserved. It wasn’t the first time a patient was rude to her, but each time, the cruelty cut her.

  Upon entering her room, Belle decided that if she had thirty days, she would make the most of them. “I’ll do such a fantastic job, he won’t be able to fire me.”

  Belle made quick work of locating a duster, some polish and a few rags. Her new bedroom was massive – almost as large as her entire house back in the West Village. There was a fireplace, with a section above the mantle that was ornately carved bronze, cut into swirls that would have been whimsical, were they not tarnished and covered in soot. The fixtures were ornate, curly and made everything look like a dignified dream, but she couldn’t fully appreciate it with the thick coating of dust and neglect that covered every surface. It looked like the room hadn’t been touched in a decade, so she took her time, starting in the corner and pacing herself.

  “It’s a castle. It’s going to take time to get all the rooms looking as they should. You’ve got this, Belle,” she said to herself.

  “Oo! That tickles!” said a female voice.

  Belle paused, the feather duster poised above the mantle. She looked over her shoulder, but saw no one. “Who said that?”

  “I wish you could hear me. I would thank you for putting me to good use!”

  Belle glanced toward the source of the voice, which was coming from… the duster? Belle’s mouth dropped open when she saw the dove-shaped handle twist in her grip. “Did you just…” Belle looked over her shoulder to make sure the door was locked.

  When she glanced down again, there was no mistaking the movement of the dove’s white beak that opened and closed as it spoke to her. “My, she’s pretty,” the duster commented.

  Belle gasped and jumped back, dropping the duster on the floor. “That didn’t just happen! You didn’t talk, and I didn’t hear you.”

  She echoed Belle’s gasp, and found with delight that she could turn her neck. Normally she could only move on her own if no one but Adam was around, but finally, finally she could speak for herself to someone who wasn’t so surly. “Mademoiselle, my name is Vivienne. Don’t be frightened!” she fretted as Belle backed up and plastered her back against the cobwebby wall.

  “Vivienne?”

  At this, the duster sprang up, the handle fl
oating, so that the feathers barely brushed against the hardwood floor. “Yes! Oh, mercy, mercy in Heaven! You can hear me! I’ve been silenced for so long.”

  Then it wasn’t just the duster, but the wardrobe who came to life. The old blue-painted wooden wardrobe that was pressed to the wall near her bed opened with a creak, the drawers sliding as if to peek out and see if it was really true. “You can hear us?”

  Belle’s wide eyes darted to the wardrobe, and she let out a bleat of distress. “But I’m not supposed to hear you! I’m not crazy!”

  “Crazy? No, no. Enchanted – that’s what you are. Only Adam can hear us usually. I’m Simone.”

  “Simone?” Belle whimpered. “Will someone please tell me what’s happening?”

  Vivienne floated nearer, lifting up so she was in Belle’s eyeline. Her words tumbled out so quickly, Belle had to really focus to make sense of it all. “We were cursed! Most people think it was just Adam, but it was all of us. We used to be servants in the castle, but now we’re objects. No one can hear us except for Adam, and we can’t move or speak freely when other people are around. That’s why the rumors spread that he’d gone mad. He tried for months to convince his friends that we were real, but only he could see us move and hear our voices. That you can hear us now?” Her voice caught with a shaky quality as she broke into tearless sobs. “It’s a miracle!”

  Belle shook her head. “No. No, this isn’t real. Someone must’ve Pulsed me with hallucinations or something. It’s not possible!” It wasn’t until the wardrobe started walking toward her with heavy sideways steps that shook the floor that Belle finally lost it. She screamed for help, afraid that she might be crushed by her own delusions.

  Though the castle was large, the walls were mostly bare, and there was no carpeting to muffle the sound of her cry. Belle’s cry echoed up the steps and down hallways, and before he knew it, Adam was on his feet.

  “Calm down, honey. We won’t hurt you. Is it too much? Is it because I’m so big?” Simone’s voice was loud and had a bawdy charm to it. “Vivienne didn’t seem to scare you too badly, but it looks like I’m pushing you over the edge. I’ll take a step back.” The massive wardrobe was as long as an office desk, and at least seven feet tall. The blue beauty had gold etchings on the top, curling and swirling to match the rest of the room’s opulence. Simone’s movements were abrupt and shook the door with how heavy she was. “Is that better?” she asked, her middle drawer opening and closing to act as her mouth when she spoke. There were two drawers at Belle’s eye level, and the handles that should have been immovable bronze folded in on themselves, and then flattened back out, looking to Belle as if they were two eyes blinking at her.

  “What’s his Pulse? His charts said it was a variant of boldness and persuasion, but were they wrong?” Belle demanded as she inched for the door. “Did he do this to me?”

  “Adam’s Pulse is stripping away a person’s inhibitions. He can make you speak your mind, but he can’t force hallucinations. We’re real, buttercup,” Simone said matter-of-factly.

  When Adam charged into her room, Belle had never been so grateful to see his face – gruff or not. She lifted her hand and pointed to the floating duster. “Do you see that, or is it just me?”

  Adam swore, his eyes going wide. “Viv, how are you doing that? You’ve never been able to move around anyone but me. How…”

  Vivienne chirped with glee. “She can hear us!”

  Belle kept tight to the wall, as if it was the only thing holding her to the planet. “You were tried for murdering your household after you were cursed, but they couldn’t find any evidence – only that the entire staff had disappeared. This is what happened to them?”

  Adam was flabbergasted, his mouth opening and closing without sound as he took in the giant leap he’d hoped would one day be possible – that someone might understand his plight, crazy as it seemed. “Yes. I tried to explain it, but no one believed me. Only I could hear them and see them move. Not even Henry or Rory could. You can really… Is it true?”

  He moved further into the room, taking in her anxiety with curiosity. Usually it was him people were afraid of, but Belle didn’t recoil as he stepped toward her. Instead, she threw herself into his arms, as if he could offer her some kind of protection from the unknown.

  But he was the unknown. He’d gone to great lengths to make it so. Still, in this moment of uncertainty, it seemed she was determined to make him her safe place.

  His fur-covered hand moved to her hair, hesitating before taking a chance and touching the tresses to calm her. “It’s alright.” His low voice had a bass note to it that vibrated the constant knot in his chest. “They’re nothing to be frightened of.”

  “I know the laws of magic. This isn’t possible.”

  He chuckled at her fight to hold onto logic. “I’ll let you think that, if you need to.”

  Belle’s voice came back insecure and small. “I think I might.”

  His fingers sifted through her bun, enjoying the feel of something so silky. “It’s alright, Belle,” he said again, lending comfort that hadn’t been offered to him when he’d discovered the odd twist of the curse years ago.

  Adam hadn’t held a woman in ages. Rory always tried to enforce gentle touches, but he rarely reciprocated after his change. This was different. Finally, he wasn’t alone in his plight. There was someone who didn’t write him off as mentally unstable, and give pacifying nods while calling for a script to lessen his “hallucinations”. His arms were stiff around Belle, but neither of them pulled away. He let Belle hold onto him, which was the most contact he’d had since Rory forced a hug upon him over a year ago.

  Belle shivered in his arms, and clung tighter when Simone piped up from the corner. “Oh, isn’t that splendid? They’re already bonding.” There was sheer joy in her voice.

  Vivienne floated higher so she could get a birds-eye view of the two, who were still locked in a tight embrace. “Her head is on his shoulder!”

  Belle knew she should pull away. This wasn’t exactly appropriate patient-nurse decorum. But each time Vivienne caught her eye or Simone spoke, Belle clung tighter to Adam’s swollen biceps. “Tell me I’m not seeing things. Tell me you see the floating duster, too,” she whispered into his broad chest.

  “You’re seeing what I see. That’s Vivienne and Simone. There are others who live here. Would you like to meet them?”

  Belle hesitated, but then nodded quickly. When she pulled back, it was with a sharp intake of breath. “You have to go off your meds! If I’m seeing this, then you’re not suffering from psychosis. You’re not having hallucinations. Those pills can cause serious damage if they’re taken when they’re not needed.”

  Adam took in her bossy streak with a small smirk. “I know, which is why I never took them. I believe I’m labeled as ‘obstinate’ somewhere in my files.”

  Into the room scampered a barking footstool that was covered with a light blue and rose swirl-designed fabric. It seemed to match the rest of the castle’s décor, but for the fact that it was jumping up to paw at Belle’s jeans with its wooden legs.

  Belle all but climbed up Adam’s body to get away from the enchanted objects. Adam merely chuckled at her fear, his hand finding its way to the small of her back. He kept it there until she calmed enough to release her stranglehold on him. His hand felt right, like it belonged in that most sacred of spots. “This is Sultan. He’s a cocker spaniel. He belonged to my father, but was always more affectionate toward my mother. He won’t bite. Here.” Adam turned his head to the side and sneezed three times, and then took Belle’s hand and extended it toward the footstool. The dog was so excited he could move about freely and interact with a new person, that he began chasing his own tassels, running in a frantic circle as he yipped. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

  “No, I’m afraid of possessed footstools who run around like dogs!” Belle replied incredulously. “I feel like freaking out is a normal reaction to this kind of thing.”

  Ada
m chuckled, and was immediately perplexed by the sound. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said, covering his mouth at her scolding look. “It’s just that you’re so amusing. It’s been only me who could see them all moving about. I feel as if I’m the one hallucinating now.”

  “Well, I’m very much real, and I’ll burn your dinner tonight if you laugh at me again. I’m on the verge, here.”

  “Sit, Sultan.” Adam moved her hand slowly, but eventually Belle made contact with the dog, who wagged his hind tassel amiably. “Good boy.”

  Belle finally felt confident of her surroundings just enough to drop to her knees to indulge the pup in a good belly scratch. “Is this real? Am I dreaming?”

  Adam studied her, perplexed that finally someone could witness what he’d seen all this time. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  6

  The Master Doesn’t Like Change

  Belle’s first day in the castle was spent being introduced to the household staff, who were overjoyed to meet her. They’d only had Adam to interact with for so very long, and he often spent his days shut inside his office. She’d been overwhelmed at first, and despite his appearance, which usually drove people away, Belle clung to Adam’s hairy arm, using it as her touchstone when the nuances to her new abode grew to be too much.

  “Lucien is the candlestick. Bosworth is the antique clock. The stove is Chef Bouche. Thomas is the coatrack.” She rubbed her temples. “Does the floor have a personality? Am I walking on someone’s face?”

  Adam shook his head, wondering if he would be permitted to put his free hand atop hers, which was looped through the crook of his elbow. It had been ages since he’d given anyone a tour of his home. His previous nurses had been given a gruff, “Stay out of the West Wing,” and that was that, if they’d been let in the door at all.

  He coughed a few times before speaking to her. “You’ve met nearly everyone. I daresay it’s the most they’ve all talked in quite some time. They grew tired of my company long ago.”