Page 32 of The Beast

Cracking the door just enough, she peeked in.

Whoever lay on the bed had his back to the door and was fast asleep. Immediately she knew it was Duncan.

There were deep cuts and long scars crisscrossing his wide back. Deep pits caused by some sort of torture weapon trailed down his right side to below the edge of the blanket. Raised scars intersected with the others not just on his back, but also the backs of his arms.

Her horrified gaze followed each trail, unable to move as she took in the sight. How he must have suffered. There wasn’t an inch of his back that was left unmarred.

Beatrice wanted to cry at the thought of all the pain he’d gone through. Somehow, she managed to swallow down the urge to make any sound.

Duncan could not know what she’d seen. It would have to be on his terms that he allowed her to see his body.

Tears trickled down her face as she closed the door gently and hurried back to her bedchamber. Once inside, she went to a chair and sat down, so she could lean forward and draw deep breaths.

How had he withstood it? It had to have been many whippings to have made the huge, raised scars. From the back of his neck to his waist, there was not one inch left untouched. There had to have been countless days and nights, he must have lay in agony without anyone to care for him.

She wondered if any of his family had seen it. Probably. And now it made sense, why they were all so protective of him. To expose him to rejection by a wife would be heartbreaking.

“Thank goodness he has me,” Beatrice whispered to the empty room as she wiped away tears. “My poor, Duncan.”

It was almost an hour later that Isobel entered her bedchamber, behind her their maids, Annis and Orla, carried trays so that she and Isobel could have first meal there.

“I thought we’d go to Lady Mariel’s sitting room,” Beatrice said watching as the plates and food were set up.

Isobel shook her head. “No time. The wedding is to be this morning. The vicar has to attend to a burial this afternoon in a village far from here.”

“It is a good day when one comes before a dead man,” Beatrice quipped despite the butterflies in her stomach. “Isobel?”

“Aye?”

“If we are to be married first thing, what about the bedding? It will be this night will it not?”

“Do not fret,” Isobel replied patting her shoulder. “Ye will have the entire day to spend with Duncan. Perhaps go to his house. Or ye could remain here. It will be up to ye both to decide.”

“He has only two women as staff.” Beatrice looked to Orla. “Will ye come with me?’

“Aye, of course I will,” the young woman replied with a bright smile. Beatrice liked Orla, a pretty lass with bright green eyes and reddish hair. She had just enough of a sprinkling of freckles across her nose that they added to her charm.

“Good,” Beatrice said. “Since I am packed already, then I think it will be best for us to remove ourselves to the other estate. Getting unpacked and settled will help distract me.”

“Do ye not think planning time alone with Duncan should take precedence over unpacking?” Isobel asked with a grin.

Once again, the butterflies took flight. “Ye are right, of course. That is what I should do. Plan a picnic, or go for a walk…”

“I am sure ye will spend a wonderful day, no matter what ye decide to do.”

Once they finished eating, a bath was brought. Unfortunately, there was little time to linger, so she washed up and allowed Annis and Orla to help her dress.

She chose a pale lavender dress that she knew enhanced the color of her eyes. Once the dress was on, it felt as if the rest of the preparations were done to someone else and she was a mere spectator. Absent from her body, she could barely hear anything said, the only sounds were her breathing and the gentle thuds of her heart. In her mind, she pictured Duncan’s back, the scarring, both deep and raised. The expanse of his back and how horribly marred it was.

No one should ever be mistreated in such a terrible manner and yet the man she was to marry had endured more than most humans.

Despite what he’d been through, he remained gentle with her, forgiving and caring. Duncan represented security and calmness and as unfathomable as it was, Beatrice knew deep in her heart they were meant for one another.

Finally, Lady Mariel came to the door and told them it was time. When she saw Beatrice, her face softened. “Ye are a beautiful bride dear. My only regret is that Aileen is not here to see ye.”

“She will be sad,” Isobel said. “But we will plan a wedding celebration when she arrives.”

As she made her way to the door, her sister took her arm. “A messenger will be dispatched to inform our parents of the wedding and to let them know festivities are planned for when they arrive.”