The Unbreakable Curse: A Beauty & the Beast Retelling Read online

  Other Titles by Jenna Thatcher

  Dear Friend Regency Series:

  A Wager to Win

  The Unbreakable Curse

  A Beauty & the Beast retelling

  Jenna Thatcher

  The Unbreakable Curse

  Copyright © 2018 Jenna Thatcher

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ISBN-13: 978-1983900556

  ISBN-10: 1983900559

  Cover design by Victoria Cooper Designs

  All free and commercial licenses obtained by the author and/or designer.

  To all the girls (and boys) out there who ask ‘What If?’ This book is for you. Don’t be afraid to change your fate; it’s never too late.

  beauty

  The massive doors grated in protest as they were pushed open, while hidden eyes watched unblinking. The intruder crumpled into a pile, strength spent. A forgotten fable sniffed at the tattered remnants of humanity dying in the middle of his front hall. Perhaps it would be better to leave it to die; it would be the compassionate choice, one he wished he could make for himself.

  Ragged clothing matched the over-ripe smell emanating from it; the long pieces of string were hair, he realized. His shadow moved forward blocking any light with his massive body. Dried mud covered any features of this unexpected trespasser, but it was clear she was either asleep or had fainted. It was definitely a she, a hint of femininity peeking through the rank layers of unwashed smell.

  A vague memory of a sacrificial girl promised to him surfaced. Had it been three years ago? four? A drop of time in an eternity of damnation. He hesitated.

  His paws, each easily bigger than her head, carefully brushed away the knots and tangles of hair encrusted to her face; a shallow breath rattled through her bones. She was too cold; perhaps she wouldn’t be here long.

  A servant was called, and within moments she was carried to a bedroom and laid on a settee. He shook his mighty head as he stared at the girl; once again, he had been unable to deny his selfishness.

  ***

  She shivered awake, the coldness too settled into her bones to respond to the thick blanket laid on top of her. Sitting up, she noticed spirals of steam rising from a copper tub. She tried to focus, but her thoughts wouldn’t sit still; lack of food and exhaustion made her head swirl, and she was still shivering.

  “Miss, you must bathe, and then I think you should nap, for you look fair worn out.” The voice was sweet and feminine. She looked behind her where there was a girl her age in a blue dress with a stiff white apron on top. The maid had her hands clasped in front of her and she was smiling.

  “I am required to bathe?” She whispered, but her hands clenched.

  The maid lost her smile. “Well, I’m not sure about ‘required’, miss, but I think given your state it should be.” She smiled again, a small dimple in her left cheek showing.

  “I suppose that’s true.” Hands slowly relaxed as she attempted a small smile in return, but gave up after a moment. She tried pushing herself up with her legs to no avail. Next she tried propping herself up with her hands. Finally, she turned to the maid, “I beg your pardon, but I can’t seem to get up on my own. Would you mind helping me?”

  “Oh dear, of course not.” The maid put her hands under the girl’s arms and lifted her, supporting her to the tub where she helped her undress and then get into the water.

  “Ohhhhh.”

  “Oh, I agree, miss. Baths are heavenly things.” She laid a thick towel on the end of the bed.

  “Yes. I haven’t had one in… some time.”

  The maid laughed. “I suppose not. I have some bath salts, but I’m waiting for the second tub.”

  “The…what?”

  The maid laughed again, her dimple showing in and out. “Second tub. You’re…well, a mess, and we thought we’d get most of it off and then put you in a clean tub to make you smell nice.” She set a rolled towel behind the girl’s head.

  “I see. Thank you.” She closed her eyes, relaxing as the warmth seeped in to her bones.

  The door snicked, and her eyes burst open.

  “It’s alright miss, I watched to make sure you didn’t slip under.” The little maid was smiling as two more maids brought in buckets of water.

  “Oh…thank you.”

  “You were asleep while we were filling it, but we’ve just finished, so we best get you in it quick while it’s hot.”

  “Of course.” The girl braced her hands on the edges of the tub, but failed to pull herself out.

  “Oh, I’ll help you miss.” The maid smiled as she came forward, her hands already out.

  “Please. Won’t you call me Helen?”

  “I’m not supposed to, miss.”

  “Oh, well I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”

  The maid giggled. “Well now, aren’t you a sweetheart. I won’t get into trouble if you insist, so if that’s what you want I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  The girl raised her head again. “Well as long as you won’t get into trouble, I would like that.”

  The maid beamed, her grin opening wide. “I’m Stella.”

  “Stella, I think you might be a dream, for you keep giving me these heavenly warm baths and for the first time…” Her voice caught and she swallowed the lump that had formed.

  “Oh miss! No need to cry, you can have as many baths as you want.”

  Helen made a funny noise. “Thank you Stella. I’ll be alright. I can’t tell you how much this has meant to me, despite…”

  “Miss?”

  “It’s Helen, remember? And I’m so sorry, but I do think I won’t be able to get out of the tub.”

  “Oh! Of course. Helen, yes, and here you go.” Once more, Stella lifted Helen out of the tub and helped her walk and submerge into the ‘second bath’.

  Helen sat in the second tub with fresh hot water and her hair now being washed with something foamy and floral as Stella sprinkled bath salts. Helen sniffed and immediately felt like gagging. “Oh! What is that smell?”

  “Oh, those are Mrs. White’s bath salts. Aren’t they heavenly? Now you’ll want to be here all day – oh, what are you doing?”

  Helen had started dry-heaving over the side of the tub. She stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. Would you mind if we made this quicker?”

  “Of course, Helen,” Stella paused. “If you don’t mind me asking, do you think you might be sick?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s the lavender.” She was helped out and into a soft towel where she quickly became cold as she was dried off.

  “Lavender? But…it’s lavender!” Stella held up the dressing gown, which she wrapped around Helen, adjusting the collar.

  “I know. I…have an aversion to lavender.” Helen looked down at her dressing robe, which was as soft as feathers. “I’m so sorry. Please thank Mrs. White for me. That was very kind of her.”

  Stella shook her head and met the glance of the maids who were removing the first tub. “Of course, Helen. Next time, perhaps we can skip the bath salts.”

  Helen tried a smile once more, but failing again, leaned against Stella in the beautiful robe and hobbled over to the bed. She slumped onto her side and before Stella could try to dress her, was fast asleep.

  ***

  Helen awoke
on a warm plush bed, piles of blankets atop her to keep her warm. For a moment she thought she heard her brother making the morning fire, and she was safe from this nightmare. Voices began, feminine and light and she remembered, but had not the heart to open her eyes.

  “Did you see those bruises?” The first voice had softened to a whisper, and the second followed suit.

  “Never saw anything so horrible. Must be worn through, poor thing, for she never so much as budged when I rubbed the salve on them.”

  “We’ll fix her up soon enough. If she stays.”

  “Oh hush, Su. Hmm. She’s ever so skinny. Do you think she’ll fit in anything we’ve got?” That was Stella, her bright voice bouncing through the room.

  “We’ve always had something. I’m sure we’ll make do. Perhaps those dresses from Anastasia?” Another maid with heavier footsteps responded, and still Helen kept her eyes shut.

  “Oh no, such horrid colors for such a sweet girl. Perhaps Genevieve’s things?” Stella opened something – a wardrobe? Helen found herself curious, but waited. It was truly lovely to just lie in this bed, and perhaps she was dreaming and she was asleep…

  “No, not Genevieve. Never her.”

  “Very well, then it’ll have to be Seraphina. Although after all this time, you’d think a dress wouldn’t cause such a fuss.” Stella’s voice was muffled as she shuffled through what Helen assumed were dresses.

  “Ugh, she was truly awful, that one.”

  “Yes, but she had an abundance of sashes and we can tie them around and make do until we can alter some others for Helen.”

  At that, Helen decided it was time, and sat up slowly. “Hello?”

  “Well miss, and…oh I’m sorry. Helen. This is Susan, and we’re here to help you get dressed for dinner. What would you like to wear?” Stella had her hand on her hips.

  “Thank you both. It’s nice to meet you Susan. I hope you will use my name as well, for it’s so nice to hear it.”

  “But…” Stella furrowed her brow.

  “I…no one has called me Helen lately. At least not since I… left home a few years ago.” Her answer was quiet but called for many questions.

  “Oh did you have a nickname then? Because to tell you the truth, my name is Sarah. But one time we went to the city and my pa took me to a play and the actress’s name was Stella!” She sounded out the name giving it flare while grinning. “I wanted to be a Stella from that day on!” She fiddled with dresses, making piles haphazardly.

  “Oh, did you want to be an actress?” Helen sat very still, her hands in her lap.

  “No, but she…” Stella dropped her hands that held a yellow silk. “I guess she just had this confidence. And I remember I wanted more than anything to have that confidence someday.” She shook her head. “And here I am talking your ear off about me. What about this one?” She held up the yellow silk and scrunched her nose. “Definitely not. It’ll make you look yellow too. Hmmm.” She laid the dress over her left arm and patted her chin with her finger. “I think perhaps something to go with those lovely eyes.”

  “Oh. What would that be?”

  “A very dark blue, of course.” And Stella held up a lovely navy dress of lace that looked much finer than anything Helen had ever seen.

  “My eyes are blue?”

  “You mean you don’t know?” Susan turned to look at her in horror.

  “Well…I do. I just…forgot.”

  Stella jumped up. “We don’t have a lot of mirrors around here to be sure, but I’d be happy to have Ben bring one down for you for your room.”

  They were interrupted by a knock at the door, which Susan hurried to answer.

  “Is she ready? Oh, miss. My lady. Um…dinner is ready. When you are, of course.” The footman bowed as Helen pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders.

  She shook her head, “I’m sorry. I will be as quick as I can.”

  “Very good, ma’am.”

  “Are you…Ben?” Helen was looking back and forth between Stella and the footman, who blushed up to the top of his forehead.

  “Yes, ma’am. That is, my lady.”

  “If it isn’t too much trouble, won’t you call me Helen?”

  “I…” Ben looked at Stella who held up her hands in defeat.

  “She asked me to. But, Ben, you must leave if she’s to get dressed, you know.” She dimpled causing another intense blush.

  “Of course, of course. Thank you. That is, um. My lady. Ma’am.”

  Stella shook her head. “Give him time. He’s painfully shy, but the sweetest man. If only I could get him to do….well. Anything!”

  Helen stepped into the lacy dress as Stella held it out and then Susan turned her to do up the back. “How long have you felt this way?”

  Susan guffawed. “Well, when she’s not distracted by Nate…”

  “Oh hush Susan. Time is such a hard thing to measure here. I suppose since Alice. Although when Mrs. Winterbourne was here I was a bit distracted by Nate.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Oh! Of course you don’t. Well, Alice was seven…no, eight guests ago. Mrs. Winterbourne was two guests ago. And really, Nate is so flirtatious, it’s a wonder I hadn’t fallen to his charms before. But really, to be fair, it wasn’t long before I decided Ben…oh look, your hair looks lovely with this shade of blue. It makes it look almost a golden color, especially now you’re cleaned up a bit.”

  Susan shook her head. “It’d better. Took us a half hour just to get those tangles out. Had to cut off a bit, but it’s still past your shoulders, enough to put up all proper.” Susan pushed and pulled her hair and within moments it was piled elegantly atop her head. There was a pause as both girls looked at her neck, then away.

  “What is it?” She looked down at her dress, then back up at Stella. “Is there something wrong?”

  This time it was Susan that spoke first. “Would you care for some more of our salve for your neck?”

  “My…neck.” Helen reached up and touched the crimped skin that covered both sides of her neck, testaments to Biter and Charger’s sharp teeth. “They are healed.” Her quiet whisper was aimed at the plush carpet under her feet.

  The girls were quiet and Helen tried again. “You both are so very kind. Thank you for your efforts and of course this beautiful gown.” She looked down at the long skirt, the dark lace continuing down over the same colored underskirt. Reaching over, she took Stella’s hand. “Thank you so much. I haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and it’s all due to your efforts.”

  Stella beamed. “Oh Helen, I was just working with what you already have. You’re lovely. Now go on downstairs and get something to eat.” She grinned and then stopped as she realized that Helen was shaking. “Are you alright? Do you think you’re still unwell?”

  “It’s not that. It’s…I’ll be alright. I will. I will be. All. Right.” Helen’s voice sounded stronger but now she hunched her shoulders as she held the chair for support.

  “I can let Ben know that you’re not well and you would prefer to eat in your room, if you’d like.” Stella’s dimple vanished as she held onto Helen as though she might sink into the floor.

  Helen patted her arm. “No. I must face this and I really couldn’t have asked for more, considering.” Confused, Stella and Susan stepped back, their faces a study in a variety of emotions.

  “Ben is waiting to help you downstairs, miss. He’ll take good care of you.” Susan’s parting comment was tinged with worry as she opened the bedroom door so Helen could step out.

  As promised, Ben was waiting in the corridor. “Can I help you miss?”

  “I could use the support of your arm, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Of course, not, miss. I’m happy to help.”

  Silently she made her way down a set of massive stairs covered in a dark plush carpet. At the bottom they turned right and entered the dining room just as the clock struck the half hour.

  Startled, Helen looked at Ben, “Am I l
ate?”

  “Oh no, miss. When you arrive, that is when dinner is served.” Helen began shaking; her face now that of a ghost, but Ben smiled and nodded toward the long wooden table with beautifully carved chairs. He pulled out the end chair and helped her sit in it. “It won’t be too long, miss.” He bowed, then turned and left.

  Helen gripped the arms of her chair as she looked down the table, but the room was dark, and she could hardly see more than shadows. The darkness of the room was only lifted by the fireplace. It was massive; she could have stood in it and spun around in circles with her arms out if she still did that sort of thing. And yet, a small fire was all that was placed with barely enough light to see to eat by. She looked up and supposed that it was so she could not make out the details of her host. His silhouette was too massive to be human; she shivered and turned to the soup that had been silently placed before her. She noted the footman move far enough away to be a shadow of his own.

  Her ears strained for a sound of any kind as she took a sip of the consommé.

  “How is the soup?” The low gruff voice broke the silence, and she dropped her spoon. Carefully, she picked it up and rested it on the lip of the bowl to keep it steady.

  “Thank you. I mean…that is…it is very good. Thank you.”

  “The portion seems small, but it is for your own wellbeing, as you seem malnourished and too much food will make you ill.”

  She had nothing to say to that, but continued to eat, reveling in the feeling of her stomach being warm.

  “When you have recovered physically, we will give you as much as you desire.”

  Again, she had no response, confused at this effort but grateful for a quality of food she had not had in years.

  “You look very well in that dress.”

  “I…thank you,” She paused, then feeling ridiculous, made an effort, “Your castle is very beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And your servants are very kind.”

  “Are they seeing to all of your needs? Is there anything you lack?”