Beloved Beast

Chapter Seven

          After Lord Rossetti took his leave, Lucy returned shortly after with the morning meal. Elle straightened by the window, anticipating the maid's usual manner of exuberance only to encounter a disconcerting silence as she shuffled quietly about the chambers.

            The maid's sudden change in demeanor was concerning. Elle had sensed Lord Rossetti's displeasure when the maid had inquired of her blindness. Had he done more than scold the girl? Surely he did not have the innate capacity to be a monster? Was he truly prone to such violence?

            Elle shuddered at the thought, her encounter with the Rossetti Beast from earlier having left her somewhat shaken. It had been ill-advised on her part to rival words with him. She knew little of Rossetti and what she knew had been derived from wild speculation. She didn't know what he was capable of, and if there was any truth to what was said of him, it would serve her best to not dismiss the suspicions of his character or rouse his anger.

            Yet, in spite of that, she could not deny that apart of her was profoundly drawn to the man behind the beastly title. He was every bit as frightening as he was intriguing and she often found herself wondering as to how he had become the Rossetti Beast.

            What afflictions tormented him to have wrought such an icy disposition? What if the villagers were mistaken? What if beneath that brooding, impervious veneer was a man terribly misunderstood? Mayhap he was capable of gentleness and simply yearned for acceptance? Had he merely accepted his fate based on the cruel perceptions of others? When last had he dared to laugh or smile? When last had he loved?

            All these thoughts racked her mind, but it was the last that took her most by surprise. Had Lord Rossetti loved at one time? And suddenly she couldn't seem to shake the feeling that perhaps he shielded a broken heart beneath that dark, gruff exterior.

            "Lord Rossetti said you are to eat, naught spared," Lucy advised gently, pulling Elle from her musings.

            As the aroma of what she surmised to be porridge carried to her nose, Elle's stomach growled to the presence of food.

            If you insist on not eating, then you'll discover fast why they call me a beast.

            Lord Rossetti's warning arose as a stoic reminder that only a fool would dare challenge his authority. A small voice within forewarned her to be heedful, but the separation from her family had formed an unsavory knot within her stomach, making even the feasible task of eating seem unbearable. And perhaps her act of defiance was frivolous, but she couldn't help but notice that a minuscule part of her was bitter and wanted to maintain some semblance of free will.

            "If it's okay, Lucy, I think I would rather take a turn of the keep."

            She heard the maid's discernible gasp and then, "But miss, your breakfast?"

            There was a noticeable thread of unease in Lucy's voice that betrayed her fear of Lord Rossetti's temper.

            Elle considered a few meager bites of the porridge to appease the maid, but the very thought had her stomach churning disagreeably, and ultimately her curiosity of the stronghold took precedence.

            She grasped her wooden staff firmly, raised her chin and answered respectively, "I'm sorry, Lucy, I'm afraid I'm just not hungry. I shall try to eat something later."

            "Certainly, miss."

            She sensed the maid's hesitation as though words of dispute hovered just beneath her palpable tone of concern. But Elle would not be swayed. She was eager to explore the confines of the keep – anything to distract her from the growing sadness that clutched at her heart.