8: Beauty and the Beast

Did all of it really happen? Is Edmund truly…dead?

Beth sat before the fireplace in her bedroom, her feet tucked beneath her and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was still trembling after all that had happened, and though she tried to breath evenly, her heartbeat wouldn’t slow even a little.

Garrett had disappeared several hours before with an unconscious Fiona in his arms and a shaken, bleary eyed Mr. Gibbs close at his side.

Beth had asked to help, wanting to be close by when Fiona woke, but both men had insisted that she too needed to rest after her ordeal, and so she had been left with no other choice but to wait anxiously in her bedroom for word of Fiona’s condition.

In an effort to keep her mind off of her worry over Fiona, she busied herself by removing the bandages from her arm and leg.

“Strange,” she murmured when the bandages fell away. Not a scratch marred her pale skin, and there were no scars. To anyone else, it would appear that she had never been hurt at all.

How can that be?

Beth leaned forward to throw the ruined linen bandages into the fire, and that’s when she saw a small hole in the front of her nightgown, a perfect little circle which she could fit her finger through.

She sat back slowly in the chair, the hairs on her arms standing on end.

Her thoughts went to those few moments in the laboratory with Edmund, before she had woken up on the balcony in Garrett’s arms.

She had fought Edmund, which she was proud of, and she had fled after knocking him over the head with a paperweight, hoping to find an escape route by way of the balcony. Beth remembered the gunshot that had torn through the night as she stumbled over the threshold, and the searing pain in her shoulder that followed.

My God, Beth covered her mouth with her hand. Edmund shot me!

She knew that Edmund was skilled with a pistol, the trophies and ribbons he had won for his marksmanship over the years were testament to that. By all rights Beth knew that when Edmund fired, he had meant to land a lethal shot—and considering that there was a bullet hole in her nightgown, she knew with frightening certainty that he had hit the mark.

So then why am I not dead?

The whole situation perplexed her. She was grateful to be healed of course, grateful that somehow her life had been spared. Still, not knowing who or what had saved her life made her uneasy. It seemed that there were forces at work beyond her comprehension--a realization that was as frightening as it was fascinating.

In the brief moments that she had spoken to Garrett, she had wanted him to help her fill in the blanks in her memory regarding the events of the evening, but he had been frustratingly elusive, only saying that she should rest for the time being, and that they could discuss things at a later time.

I wish so much that I could rest. Close my eyes and simply allow sleep to consume me. She was mentally and physically exhausted. She didn’t want to think or worry about anything, just drift into the warm, safe darkness that unconsciousness offered. But sleep eluded her, and she found that sitting idly did nothing to calm her rattled nerves.

Restless, she decided to go down to the kitchen and see if there was anything useful for her to do there. At the very least she wanted to straighten things up a bit for Fiona, or perhaps make some tea for Garrett and Mr. Gibbs.

The hallway outside her bedroom was pitch black as she tugged her blanket over her shoulders, her braided hair snaking around her neck. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dark, the chill of the hallway making her shiver after having been snug by the fire.

She tiptoed along the carpeted floor and down the front stairs, the only sounds being the ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional rattle of the windows from the howling wind beyond.

As she stepped into the front hall, she happened to glance out one of the large picture windows which flanked either side of the front door. Her chest tightened when she spotted movement on the driveway. Inching closer to the window, she swallowed hard, pressing the palm of her hand against the cold glass.

There was a figure, inky black against the blanket of snow, moving towards Blackmoor Castle--towards her.

“It isn’t real,” She squeezed her eyes closed, willing the specter away. “It’s only in my head.”

When she opened her eyes, the figure was even closer, its form bent forward as it slowly moved along the drive.

Beth couldn’t move, could scarcely breathe. All she kept thinking was that it was Edmund, that he had somehow managed to survive Garrett’s assault and was clinging to life with the singular goal of exacting his revenge upon her.

She opened her mouth to scream--no more than a dry squeak escaping her lips--when the figure tilted its head back to peer up at the starry sky. She sighed heavily, her warm breath steaming the glass when the familiar face of Mr. Leonard was clear to see in the moonlight.

Without hesitation, Beth opened the front door just as Mr. Leonard stumbled up the front steps.

“Mr. Leonard!” Beth gasped, the freezing air seeping through her nightgown to her bones, a steady throbbing spreading through her fingers. Her bare feet on the flagstone went numb, a slow ache creeping up her legs and to her knees.

“I c-came as quickly as I c-could, dear girl,” Mr. Leonard stammered, his teeth pressed tightly together as he fought to keep them from chattering.

“Here, let me help you,” Beth brought Mr. Leonard to his feet, pulling his arm over her shoulder as she bore his weight, somewhat clumsily, helping him inside. “We must get you warm.”

“M-my horse slipped a sh-shoe a ways b-back. I didn’t th-think I was g-going to make it. B-but I h-had to c-come. T-to warn you.”

“Please, Mr. Leonard. You mustn’t try to speak,” Beth pushed the door closed, putting her arm around Mr. Leonard’s waist and leading him through the dining hall towards the kitchen. “Let’s get you warm and dry, then you can say what you must. But please, you need to save your strength.”

The kitchen was dark, the fire in the hearth dim, barely more than a warm glow within the charred firewood.

Beth helped Mr. Leonard into a chair near the fireplace, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he sat back, the wooden legs creaking beneath his weight. Beth went quickly to work bringing the fire back to life, adding more kindling and wood until the fire crackled and blazed once more, the cold ache leaving her hands.

“We must get you out of those damp boots.” Beth turned to Mr. Leonard, noticing for the first time the ruddiness of his cheeks and nose where the wind had chapped his skin. His eyes were closed, his bushy gray brows drawn tight, the skin beneath his eyes swollen as though he hadn’t slept.

Beth’s heart was heavy as she imagined all that Mr. Leonard had endured in his efforts to protect her. He had been on his way home to his wife and daughter when Edmund had no doubt found him and threatened him in some way.

Beth wondered what he had said to the kind old man. Had he threatened his life? Or worse, had he threatened the lives of those most precious to him?

She blinked back tears, guilt settling in her chest because she knew that Mr. Leonard was in such a state because of her.

“I’m so sorry,” Beth whispered as she pulled off Mr. Leonard’s mud stained boots, his wool socks soaked through to his freezing feet. She rubbed one foot between her hands, and then the other, hoping to get warmth back into them.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Mr. Leonard offered in a tremulous voice. “It was my decision to return. I could not, in good conscience, go home to my wife and daughter when I knew what evils might befall you—because of me.” Mr. Leonard looked pained, his eyes teary when they met hers. “I asked myself what I would do if someone were scheming against my own daughter, planning to harm her, bodily or otherwise. I knew I had to intervene.”

“Oh, Mr. Leonard,” Beth took his hand into her own, his skin so cold that it worried her. She rubbed his calloused hand between her own, wishing so much that she could take the chill from them--hoping that he would never again know such cold and worry. “Do not trouble yourself any further. I know full well what schemes you speak of—the schemes of both Mr. Thorne and Edmund. But I promise you that none of it is your fault. You were as unaware of what was in that letter as I.”

“You know about the letter?” Mr. Leonard’s eyebrows shot up. “You know what is in it? How can that be?”

Beth sighed heavily, explaining all about Edmund, how she had crossed him not long ago, and how he had come to Blackmoor Castle intent on killing her because of their past. She told him how the letter came to be in her possession, and how Edmund had attacked both she and Fiona.

Beth revealed everything she thought pertinent, saying nothing of Mr. Thorne’s transformation into a werewolf for two reasons. First, she knew that it was not her secret to share—and second, she doubted that Mr. Leonard would believe such a strange story anyway.

“Might I ask—what has happened to this Edmund fellow?”

Beth shivered, hugging herself. “All that Mr. Thorne would say is that I need not fear Edmund Leech any longer. I did not press the issue, but I think we both know what Mr. Thorne meant by that.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Leonard regarded her thoughtfully, his brows drawn. “It is my fault that such a detestable man found you in the first place. If I hadn’t been rambling on in the tavern, telling my old friend all about you and Mr. Thorne—If I’d only had the good sense to keep my business to myself, none of this would have happened.”

Beth shook her head. “Mr. Leonard, you must not think that way. Edmund would have found me no matter what, no matter where I went. I realize that now. I thought that I could start a new life, that I would never have anything to fear from Edmund once I left my home. But he never intended to let me move on,” Beth laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “I was naïve to think that I could simply leave after all that had happened between us.”

“You were not naïve, dear girl,” Mr. Leonard smiled. “You merely had hope. Hope that better things were on the horizon, waiting for you. No one can fault you for that.”

Beth smiled through her tears, a heaviness settling around her heart as she thought of her father. She missed him terribly, especially at moments such as this, when she was frightened and confused. He always had such wise words for her, ones that always set her soul at ease.

I believe Father is here, in a way. What Mr. Leonard has said is not that far from what Father would have told me.

Mr. Leonard’s concern for her warmed her heart, and she hoped that one day she would be able to repay him for all of his kindness, and all of his sacrifices.

“It’s strange,” Mr. Leonard said, his lips turning up in an easy smile, “but it was good in its own way that Edmund found you while you were still under the protection of Mr. Thorne. He saved you, and rid you of a threat that would have loomed over you no matter where you went.”

“True,” Beth sighed, rising to her feet. She took the wool blanket from her shoulders and wrapped it around Mr. Leonard, tucking it in at his neck. “But that does not make him the hero of this tale. We cannot forget the letter that he wrote to Lord Cossington. If that letter had arrived as he had intended, it would have ruined everything for me.”

Mr. Leonard regarded her thoughtfully, pulling the blanket more tightly around his shoulders as he leaned in closer to the fire. “You know, seeing as how that letter never reached Lord Cossington, they are still expecting you. No doubt they are wondering why you have not yet arrived, but they are expecting you nonetheless. If you’d like, I would be happy to escort you there myself. I believe Mr. Thorne will spare his carriage for our use. I think he owes you that much.”

Beth’s heart sank as she stared into the fire, suddenly torn. After all that had happened, her world made little sense. She was still furious and deeply hurt by what Garrett had done, yet she couldn’t bring herself to make the decision to leave.

This is what I want, isn’t it? To leave? The choice is simple—obvious even. But why does the very thought of leaving hurt so much?

“Unless of course, you wish to remain here,” Mr. Leonard smiled.

Beth shook her head. “No. I mean, I…I don’t know.”

Mr. Leonard chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t envy you this decision, dear girl. You have much to consider. Why don’t you go and get some rest, think things over. I’ll find my way to the servant’s quarters and take up my old room in a moment. I just need to rest my aching bones near the hearth for a bit longer.”

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly leave you in such a state.”

“I insist,” Mr. Leonard yawned. “I assure you that I am much better now that you have tended to me. I’ll warm myself here for a few minutes more then retire for the evening.”

“Very well,” Beth said, still unsure. “But if you should need anything, only shout and I will come as quickly as I can.”

Mr. Leonard heard none of what she said, Beth realized, because he was snoring heavily, his chin tucked down to his chest.

Beth backed quietly from the room, leaving the kitchen door wide to be sure that if Mr. Leonard called for her, she would hear him.

She rubbed her temples as she made her way through the dining hall, exhaustion tugging at her eyelids as she wondered what in the world she was going to do now. A life changing decision needed to be made, a fork in the road stood before her, but which way should she go? One way led to the life she had so carefully planned out, while the other would lead her into the unknown.

As she contemplated what she should do, her thoughts turned to Garrett. He was a complicated man, to say the least, most notably because of the secret that had weighed him down for so long. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what it had been like for him to live with such a thing. He had been so isolated, and so alone. And his isolation, she knew, had made him somewhat uncouth and standoffish--but she could forgive him that.

Each time that he had lashed out at her with some cutting remark or retort, she had the keen sense that he regretted his words the moment they escaped his lips. He wouldn’t outright apologize, of course, but she could see it in his eyes. And besides that, there had been moments where he had looked at her with such longing, had been teasing and humorous, which made her wonder if perhaps he truly did care for her. Which had her wondering what had possessed him to write that letter to Lord Cossington.

Beth had originally thought that it was to keep her there so that his secret would never get out—but after all that had happened with Edmund, how Garrett had come to her aid and then held her in his arms with such all consuming love in his eyes—she couldn’t help but wonder if there was far more to the story than that.

She tried to imagine the situation through his eyes, and a strange idea occurred to her.

Perhaps he thought himself unworthy of me…perhaps he had believed that he would never be able to convince me to stay with him, to be his.

“Unlikely,“ she mumbled, shaking her head. It was a nice idea to hold onto, certainly, but she couldn’t stop doubt from creeping in.

Nevertheless, I can still hope.

Beth turned into the foyer, nearly screaming when she ran headlong into Garrett.

He caught her by the shoulders to steady her, his hands lingering there for a moment. Warmth spread up Beth’s neck to her cheeks, and she was grateful for the low light because she was certain that her face was a deep shade of crimson.

“How is Fiona?” Beth managed. “Is she awake?”

Garrett’s hands moved lightly over her shoulders, down her arms and back again, warming Beth’s skin beneath her sleeves. As she stared up at him in the dim candlelight, she shivered. He was so handsome, his thick black hair hanging loosely around his face, his full lips a serious line. She found that even the scar that marked his otherwise beautiful features suited him somehow, and she couldn’t even imagine him without it. Even now she wanted to touch that scar, trace it down to his stubbled jaw and to his lips.

What has come over me? She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath.

“She woke for a moment, long enough to ask if you were alright,” Garrett said, cutting into her thoughts, his voice low. “She is sleeping soundly now.“

Relief washed over Beth at his words. “I must go to her,” she said in a rush, pushing past him.

“Mr. Gibb’s is with her,” Garrett said, catching her by the elbow. “Why don’t we let her rest for the night. You can see her first thing in the morning.”

Beth opened her mouth to argue, but he put his hand up before she could speak.

“You and I need to talk, Beth.”

Beth was exhausted, and more than a little bit confused. She needed to think, to sort things out for herself, and she couldn’t do that when Garrett was so close, his hands a distraction that made her shiver despite their warmth.

“I really don’t think this is the time,” Beth sighed, moving past him. “We can talk about things tomorrow.”

Garrett caught her and turned her to face him. “This cannot wait.”

His eyes were intense, as they always were, but they were different somehow. Clearer. It was as though he were no longer carrying an immense weight inside himself. She could feel it in the air around them, that there was a change in him.

That’s when Beth knew that Garrett was free.

“You are no longer…cursed?” Beth murmured. She didn’t know what else she could say, for she was more confused now than ever.

The corners of Garrett’s mouth turned up in answer--just a shadow of a smile--but he was the happiest he had ever looked in the short time that she had known him.

She smiled up at him, relieved, and she had to fight the sudden urge to throw her arms around his neck and hold him to her, to share in the overwhelming joy that he must feel.

“As I said, we need to talk.”

He offered her his hand and she hesitated for a moment before taking it, too stunned to argue with him and far too tired to put off the inevitable conversation that they had been building up to since the discovery of the letter.

Garrett led her down the hall and into the sitting room where she took a seat in one of the small floral patterned chairs near the window. The sky beyond the frosted panes had cleared and Beth could see the stars, blinking and bright against the black sky.

“I am not really sure where I should begin,” Garrett muttered, running both hands through his hair.

Beth sat up a little straighter in her chair, trying to maintain some semblance of poise, all the while hoping that Garrett didn’t see how her hands trembled where they lay folded neatly in her lap as she waited to hear what he might say.

All he has to do is apologize. If he could only manage those few words, I would forgive him everything.

Beth shook her head, her heart pounding in her ears. She had no idea where that thought had come from, and she doubted that things could be that simple.

Things are that simple, Beth told herself. He saved my life on more than one occasion, entrusted me with his darkest of secrets, and makes me feel so alive, so safe…and so very happy. An apology is all that it will take to mend what is broken.

Beth glanced up at him, and knew, absolutely knew, that she was meant to be with him. That there was no place in the world that she would rather be then at Blackmoor Castle with him.

Little else mattered once she realized that simple truth.

All that she needed to know was if Garrett felt the same. If, despite all that had happened, there was enough between them to put the pieces back together and start anew.

What would or would not be between them rested on Garrett’s shoulders.

Beth sighed heavily, squeezing her eyes shut before meeting Garrett’s gaze once more.

It was all up to him now.

~~~

What the hell am I doing? Why am I just standing here when I should be on my knees begging for her forgiveness?

Beth sat perfectly still, looking at him with those doe eyes of hers, so wide and trusting. How he had ever been able to look into those eyes and lie was beyond him, because as he looked into them now he could hardly manage to breathe, let alone speak, as he was so lost in the beauty of them.

Garrett’s throat was dry and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he tried to work out in his mind what he wanted to say. He had so much that he wanted, that he needed to tell her, he just couldn’t manage to get the damn words out.

He realized that he was gawking at her like a damn fool when she shifted anxiously in her seat, her eyes moving over his face before falling to the floor at his feet. She tugged nervously at the sleeve of her nightgown, and that’s when he noticed that the bandage he had so carefully put into place was no longer there.

Garrett went to her quickly, perhaps too quickly because she leaned back slightly in her chair as though she wasn’t quite sure what he intended to do.  

Does she still fear me? Garrett wondered, hoping that he had only misread her reaction to him. After all, it had been a trying few days for her, and it was understandable that she would be on somewhat on edge.

He knelt before her, taking her once injured arm into his hands, not missing the small gasp that escaped her lips when he pushed her sleeve up to run his fingers along her bare skin.

“Remarkable,” he murmured. Not a blemish marked her skin, no wound nor scar. She shivered when his thumb traced over the pulse in her wrist, and she bit down on her bottom lip.

“I don’t understand it either,” Beth murmured, her eyes moving to his mouth. A pretty blush brightened her cheeks and she looked away quickly, and Garrett found himself wondering what she had been thinking.

If it was anything like what I am thinking, her blush would be far deeper than that.

“And your leg?” Garrett managed to ask, so distracted by her lips that it was becoming difficult to voice a coherent thought.

“Healed completely as well,” Beth said softly. “Do you know how such a thing could be possible?”

Garrett stared dumbly, still entranced by the delicate curve of her lips. He didn’t know if it was the trauma of all that had happened, or his relief to see that she was unharmed, but he was finding it more difficult by the minute to resist pulling her into his arms and kissing her down to the rug until she was gasping for breath.

“I…um…” Beth cleared her throat and pulled her arm from his grip to touch her shoulder, her fingers trembling slightly as she watched him. She must have seen something in his dark gaze because she swallowed hard, her voice a tremulous whisper. “A-and my shoulder. Edmund shot me, that much I remember, and yet that injury is gone as well.”

She poked her finger through a small hole in her nightgown, her brows drawn together when she looked questioningly at Garrett. His jaw clenched tight, his fury bubbling up once more at the thought of the stranger that had harmed her.

Cowardly little bastard. I shouldn’t have killed him--that was far too merciful. I should have made him suffer further.

Garrett’s hands turned to fists as he pushed to his feet, Beth staring up at him. She had looked so small and fragile lying on the stone balcony, unmoving. He had never known such fear in all his years, and recalling it now froze his marrow.

He should have protected her--from Edmund, from the wolves--most especially from himself. It seemed that from the moment she had met him her world was a frightening maze of pain, all because of him. He had been the one who deceived her, the one who had lied and gone behind her back. He had been the one to attack her, to drive her out into the cold where the wolves had nearly killed her. He had been the one who let Edmund in.

He, and no one else, was the cause of every terrible thing that had befallen her since her arrival at Blackmoor Castle. All of it was his fault. All of it was his doing.

I don’t deserve her. After everything that has happened, I see now just how selfish I have been--and how deeply that selfishness has hurt her. Though I would give anything, do anything to have her--she is not mine to keep. I love her, which is why I must do this for her. Though it kills me, I must do it.

“Garrett?”

He turned to face her, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she watched him, concern knitting her brow.

“What did you wish to speak to me about?” She asked slowly, still nibbling her bottom lip.

Garrett gritted his teeth. Goodbye, my love.

“What I wanted to speak with you about,“ Garrett began hoarsely, running a hand down his face, “was your presence at Blackmoor Castle.”

She frowned up at him, confusion altering her lovely features. “My presence?”

Garrett nodded slowly. “Much has happened since you arrived here. I would be lying if I didn’t say that having you here has been…pleasant.” Pleasant, magnificent, stirring…all that and more, my love.

“But it has also been wrought with danger and suffering,” Garrett went on. Get to it, man, before you lose your nerve. “I believe, just as I’m sure you do, that it would be best if you leave this place.”

Beth blinked, seeming too stunned to move. “You want me to leave?”

The very thought of it is akin to a knife in my heart. “You must agree with me when I say that it is for the best. Blackmoor Castle was merely a detour on your journey to the life you had been moving towards, you know that as well as I.”

Beth licked her lips, and something like sorrow was in her eyes. “So…so then your only reason for sending that letter…the only reason that you wanted me to stay here with you, was so that your secret would never get out?” She stared at him for a moment, realization flashing in her eyes. “And now you are no longer cursed, there is no secret to keep…no reason for me to stay.”

Garrett remained silent for a moment, letting her believe that her words were the truth, feeling all the more like a bastard for lying to her yet again. My God, if you only knew how much I want you, how much I need you.

“I do regret deceiving you, of course,” Garrett said. I must end this now, it isn’t fair to her to go on like this. Haven’t I hurt her enough? “It isn’t much of an apology, but there you have it.”

“There you have it,” Beth repeated flatly, her lips turning down. Her hands were tiny fists in her lap as she watched him, her relaxed shoulders stiffening. “There you have it? Is that all you have to say? After everything?”

No. “Yes,” he said evenly.

Her lips parted and she let out a shaky breath, pulling her eyes from his to stare at her hands where they rested in her lap. Her face was cast in shadow, and Garrett had the impression that she was relieved, knowing that she would finally be free of Blackmoor Castle, and most of all, him.

“Mr. Leonard is here,” Beth murmured, cutting into his thoughts. “He came to warn me about Edmund, and about…you.”

“Mr. Leonard?“ That was the last thing Garrett was expecting to hear. “Where is he? Is he alright? Did Edmund harm him?”

“He is well,” Beth said quietly. “He was very relieved to find that Edmund is…no longer a threat. I left him resting in the kitchen, warming himself before the fire.”

Garrett nodded. “Well, that is a relief.” And it was. Garrett had fleetingly wondered about Mr. Leonard after discovering that the letter had somehow found its way back to Blackmoor Castle. He had been so focused on tracking down Edmund, however, that Mr. Leonard’s fate had not been at the front of his mind.

“He has kindly offered to escort me to the Cossington’s,” Beth murmured, tugging at a thick curl that had come free of the braid which rested over her shoulder. “All he asks is that you spare your carriage for the journey. And if that is too much to ask, perhaps two horses?”

Garrett could only stare at her. True, his intention was to send her on her way, but now that it was actually happening--well, he was having doubts. The thought of losing her did not sit well with him. Not one bit.

But leaving is obviously what she wants. And after everything that has happened, what did I expect? Did I honestly think that she would rush into my arms and tell me that she wants to stay with me? Surely I am not that much of a fool--still, a man can dream.

“It is no trouble,” Garrett said coolly. The room felt hotter, the back of his neck chilled despite his warmth. “I will inform Mr. Gibbs of your departure, and ask that he prepare the carriage and horses for your journey. He will accompany you and Mr. Leonard as well.”

“If that is what you wish, sir,” Beth whispered.

Garrett couldn’t bring himself to look at her, for he knew that if he did he would fall to his knees before her and admit that the thought of her leaving seemed a pain worse than death. But that wouldn’t be fair to her, and he knew it. Sweet, loving young lady that she was, she would stay with him forever if he did such a thing, whether she wanted to or not.

“I presume that you would like to leave as soon as possible,” Garrett breathed, his throat tight. “I will let Mr. Gibbs know that you will be departing first thing in the morning.”

Garrett went to the door, glancing back at her one last time. She was still looking down at her hands, her delicate chin titled down, her full lips parted and her shoulders slightly rounded.

“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Thorne,” she said softly, so softly that he might not have heard her if he hadn’t been intent on committing those last few seconds with her to memory.

“It has been my greatest pleasure spending these past days in your company,” he murmured before stepping into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

He leaned against the wall, raking his hands though his hair with a frustrated sigh.

I’ve lost her. But she will be happy, and that is all that matters.

Garrett only hoped that with time, he would be able to think of her without it hurting quite so much.

¬¬~~~

“You look exhausted, dear girl,” Mr. Leonard said gently. “Did you not sleep last night?”

“No,” Beth sighed as Mr. Leonard climbed up into the driver’s seat.

Beth’s head ached, no doubt from all the tears she had shed coupled with her lack of sleep. Her eyes felt swollen, and when she had checked herself in the mirror earlier that morning, she had found her eyes to be bloodshot and the skin beneath her eyes puffy and ashen.

She had hoped that her mood would improve once she had the chance to speak with Fiona, but to her disappointment Fiona had been groggy and barely able to open her eyes-- bringing Beth to tears once again. So, Beth had kissed the dear woman on the forehead and left a note on her bedside table, telling her how much she loved her and hoped that she would see her again in the near future.

Worse then that, of course, was Garrett.

She still couldn’t believe how calm he had been, how cold as he told her that her stay at Blackmoor Castle had come to an end, that it was time for her to go. Mere hours before then she had nearly died, held in Garrett’s arms, so close to him, feeling warm and content in his embrace. Once again it seemed that she had been a fool, imagining things for more then what they were. Certainly he was relieved to see that she was unharmed, but his feelings for her did not go beyond that. He made that point painfully clear as he told her in no uncertain terms that it was time for her to take her leave.

He clearly isn’t bothered by the idea of me leaving, Beth thought bitterly. He hasn’t even bothered to show himself this morning, at least to see me off or to make sure that Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Leonard have everything they need.

“Ready to go, Miss?” Mr. Gibbs called as he came down the front steps, tugging his gloves on as he neared.

“Yes,” Beth managed to smile at him. “But there really is no need for you to come with us, Mr. Gibbs. I’m certain you would much rather stay with Fiona.”

“True,” Mr. Gibbs smiled. “but if she found out that I didn’t see to it that you arrived safely at the Cossington’s, well, that would be very bad for me, Miss.”

Beth laughed in spite of herself. “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Gibbs.”

He chuckled, a knowing smile on his face as he opened the carriage door for her.  

Beth looked back at Blackmoor Castle, wanting to remember every inch of the imposing structure. When she had first laid eyes on the place it had seemed ominous, its harsh stone angles cutting into the sky in stark contrast to the wall of trees which surrounded it. But now, in the early morning sunlight that peeked through the clouds, she couldn’t imagine seeing the place as anything but utterly beautiful.

Moss and ivy clung to the white and gray stone, crawling up the walls to the high windows that reflected the muted morning light. A narrow stone wall lined either side of the grand front doors, and though the rose bushes and shrubbery were no more than twisted sticks in the earth, she could imagine the vivid reds and greens with little difficulty, wishing that she would be there to see the garden in all of its glory at the height of spring.

That’s when she realized that she would never again lay eyes on Blackmoor Castle, never roam the halls on a stormy day or explore the vast library in the early hours of the morning. She had come to love the place, and knowing that she would never see it again brought tears to her eyes.

Is it never seeing the manor again that is so like a dagger in my heart, or is it the fact that I will never see him again?

When her eyes settled on an upstairs window, she could swear that the curtain moved ever so slightly, just a whisper of shifting fabric, as though someone had been holding it aside and had let it fall back into place.

“Miss,” Mr. Gibbs placed a hand gently on her shoulder. Beth turned to him, and he offered her a reassuring smile. “It’s time to go, Miss.”

She nodded, wiping at her eyes as she climbed into the carriage. Mr. Gibbs climbed in after her, pulling the door closed before taking a seat across from her.

“Shouldn’t be too long of a journey,” Mr. Gibbs said cheerily, knocking on the wall of the carriage. Above them Mr. Leonard shouted and snapped the reins. “The weather is in our favor this day, and I do believe we will make excellent time.”

“Very good,” Beth said absently as the carriage lurched forward. All the while, Beth kept her gaze fixed on Blackmoor Castle. She held onto the hope that Garrett would rush out to stop the carriage, admitting that he had made a terrible mistake. Then, she imagined, she would climb out of the carriage and rush into his open arms, and he would kiss her fiercely. He would kiss her and tell her that he loved her, that he couldn’t live without her--and she would tell him much the same.

And then what? She asked herself bitterly. We live happily ever after? Grow up Elizabeth.

As they moved down the long driveway, Blackmoor Castle drifting further and further away, a chill went through Beth’s heart, her skin went numb, and a slow burn settled in her belly.

So this is what a broken heart feels like.

Tears of bitter anger burned behind her lids, anger not so much at Garrett but at herself. She had experienced a tidal wave of emotions over the course of several days, and now it seemed they were coming to a head. She couldn’t take much more of it or she was certain that she would go mad.

I wish I had never laid eyes on that cursed place, or him! I could have gone through life blissfully unaware of what was out there for me, of what could be. Damn him for making me feel this way! And damn me for being such a stupid girl!

Mr. Gibb’s arm came around her shoulders, startling her from her dark, angry musings. She hadn’t even heard him move to the seat beside her, she had been so deep in thought. It was as she looked at him, his profile swimming in her vision, that she became aware of the tears that were streamed down both cheeks.

“It’s alright, dear child,” Mr. Gibbs said kindly, his own eyes watery. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “This is to be a happy day for you, Miss. Today is your new beginning. So let me see that winning smile of yours.”

Beth let out a shaky breath, then swiped the tears from her cheeks quickly, trying to regain some of her composure before smiling wide at Mr. Gibbs. He was right after all. There was no reason for her to be so downright dreary when she was heading straight for the future she had so longed for.

“That’s the spirit,” Mr. Gibbs laughed, giving her hand a another squeeze.

Beth smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she turned her attention to the scene beyond the small carriage window.

As the trees whipped by, nothing more than a blur of deep browns and greens, Beth’s eyelids grew heavy. The steady bounce of the carriage around her and the warm, fatherly embrace of Mr. Gibbs had her drifting into oblivion within minutes.

“Do you suppose he will think of me?” She murmured, unaware that she spoke out loud as she drifted between consciousness and sleep. “Do you suppose he will regret his words?”

Mr. Gibb’s chuckle was a distant sound that tickled against her ear, and from somewhere far away he said “I am certain of it, Miss. Absolutely certain.”