Chapter one - Beatrice

An agonized gasp flew from her lips. Stabbing pain beneath her ribcage forced her headlong flight to a stumbling halt. With a shaking hand, she gripped her side, trying to relieve some of the pain as she leaned one shoulder against a wide tree-trunk. If only she could rest a moment. But she dare not.

He was out there somewhere. She knew it. Desperately her gaze skipped from tree to tree, searching, straining to pierce the darkness. There was no sign of him, yet she knew he was out there, somewhere. Slinking from shadow to shadow, dogging her every step. She had seen him through the trees. Like some demon wraith from out of the pit. A distorted, hulking beast, massive and lumbering. Grotesque in face and form. Not that she'd caught more than a glimpse of him, engulfed as he was in the shadowy folds of a hooded black cloak.

Her vision suddenly blurred and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the fog. She was so tired. Her head felt fuzzy, like it was stuffed with cotton. Her legs trembled with exhaustion, barely holding her upright even with the massive tree-trunk at her back. The heart beneath her breast was beating so hard, it felt like it would leap right out of her chest. Whether from fear or exertion, it was impossible to tell. A trickle of perspiration rolled down her forehead and she swiped the damp away with her palm. Licking dry lips, she tried to swallow but her throat was so scratchy and raw. A sudden racking cough had her bending in half, searching for air. The soggy heaviness in her lungs made it doubly difficult to breathe. Like a solid brick sitting on her chest.

Clearly she was unwell and shouldn't be out here. She should have been home in bed, cuddled up under the blankets with a hot cup of tea and lemon. But she wasn't home, safe. She was out here, hopelessly lost in the woods. It felt like she had been running forever and yet she didn't seem to be making any headway. Nothing looked even vaguely familiar. Not that she could see much more than shadowy wilderness. All was cloaked in darkness, making it doubly difficult to find her way. And the dense forest seemed determined to frustrate her progress. Skeleton-like limbs constantly caught at her clothes, snatching at her arms, leaving scratches and welts all over her tender skin. Ugly nobby roots jumped from underground, intent on tripping her. And all she longed to do was lay down and rest. But she couldn't stop. It was imperative she keep moving.

If only she could locate some kind of shelter. Surely there must be some friendly soul nearby who would offer sanctuary to a lost and weary woman. But there didn't seem to be anything remotely habitable among the trees. How had she come to be so far from home?

Home, where it was warm and cozy and safe. Home with the children, where she should be at this time of night. Seated on the bed, reading a bedtime story. The three darlings were so starved for affection. She struggled to fill in the gap left by her brother's untimely demise and their mother's lackluster attention. Showering them with all the love she had to give. She couldn't love them any more if they were her very own.

They would surely be missing her by now. She was certain young Teddy was coming down with something. He'd complained his head hurt this morning. He certainly should not have been taken out of the house but Sissy had insisted and, as she was their mother, there was nothing Beatrice could say about it. The moment Mr. Narwhal arrived, Sissy was ushering the children out the door, leaving Beatrice alone with the conceited, lecherous old man.

The elderly shopkeeper always made her feel extremely uneasy. He was forever undressing her with his eyes, leering at her bosom and constantly making lewd, suggestive remarks that confused and frightened her. Since the death of her brother, his advances had become increasingly aggressive and frightening. Nothing she did seemed to deter the man. Her reluctance only seemed to entice him to be more ardent in his pursuit.

She feared offending him by outright denying his advances. After all, they owed Mr. Narwhal a considerable debt. If he decided to call in all that was owed to him, they could all be out on the street in an instant. And Mr. Narwhal was fully capable of it.

Beatrice was uncertain exactly what Sissy had told the shopkeeper, but it was obvious her sister-in-law was encouraging him. Today had been particularly difficult, as she herself was not feeling well and Mr. Narwhal seemed determined to compromise her completely. No sooner had Sissy closed the door than he pounced. He had her trapped against the wall, boxed in by his massive girth. His hands were everywhere and the heavy, overpowering scent he wore soured her already churning stomach, as he forced sloppy kisses on her.

She remembered twisting her head, trying to avoid those smacking lips and pleading for him to let her go. He simply chuckled and called her a 'silly tease' as he tried to shove one hand down the front of her dress while hiking up her skirts with the other.

But Beatrice was no tease.

She was a simple girl. Maybe she was a bit shy and awkward, preferring to sit in a quiet corner with a book, over attending any of the local festivities. She was extremely uncomfortable in social situations. She never knew what to say or how to act among other people. But, due to their reduced circumstances, the she and Sissy were rarely invited to attend any society events. Which was fine with her.

Beatrice was quite content to remain at home. She had long accepted her lot as a servant in her sister-in-law's household. She had no dowry, no trousseau and so had no aspirations to marry. Childhood dreams, of a brave Prince riding up on his noble steed to rescue the damsel in distress, were long outgrown. She had no interest in courtship or marriage. Now, if only she could deter Mr. Narwhal. But, no matter how much she protested, the portly shopkeeper persisted.

She was uncertain exactly what happened. Everything was a hazy blur. All she could recall was a fearful struggle and a sharp pain. Then, suddenly she was free. Whether by her own doing or his capitulation, she could not recall. All she knew was that blind panic sent her racing out the back door and into the woods behind the house, her only thought to escape. But, had she escaped one disastrous situation only to be caught up in a more dangerous predicament?

A sharp crack split the air, followed by a crash and she jerked upright, her heart jolting in renewed fright. She scrambled forward again, forcing her way through brambles and brush. Branches and thorns snatched painfully at her skin but she paid little heed in her terror. Then suddenly she stumbled out onto a clear path. In the distance, the incandescent glow of firelight lit up the darkness and relief almost brought her to her knees. Light meant human habitation. Shelter, safety, sanctuary.

She raced along the path, desperate with renewed hope. The trees thinned and a large structure came in to view. The building was too large to be a simple cottage. Perhaps a barn. But, what did it matter? If only she could reach it, she would be safe. Even a barn could offer comfort and security, if not in human form, then perhaps a horse and the means to escape. But the closer she drew, the less barn-like the structure appeared. Barns did not generally have turrets, or towers. Some were made of stone but few on the grand scale of this magnificent building. Then, the light vanished and she nearly cried out in dismay. She renewed her efforts and rushed forward. It wasn't until she broke free of the trees, and got her first good look, that she paused in surprise.

She could hardly believe her eyes. There before her stood a pair of massive stone towers, looming far above the trees, complete with turrets and arrow-slots. The stone seemed to be loose and crumbling in places but between the towers, the massive wooden doors looked fresh and solid. She shook her head and blinked a few times but the building remained. She wasn't hallucinating. There was an actual castle in the midst of this dense forest.

But there were no castles around here, that she knew of. Perhaps she had run farther than she realized. But, no matter. Shelter was shelter, welcome in any form and a castle was better than a barn. Surely there must be people within. And people meant rescue. But then she realized how late it was. Most everyone would be asleep. But there had been a light. Surely, someone had to be awake for there to have been a light. Heaven, please let someone be awake. A kindly old soul who would take pity on a lost and frightened woman. Beatrice rushed up to the huge wooden doors and threw herself upon them, beating on the panel with frantic fists.

"Please! Please let me in. Oh, please." She called loudly.

Her own words echoed back to her as if through a deep cavern. Her heart nearly sank when all that followed was silence, but then suddenly the door latch rattled. With an eerie creak and groan, the huge portal swung inward. As unexpected as it was, she was unable to adjust her weight back to her own feet and was flung forward.

Beatrice found herself caught against a solid, powerful male form. She was held firmly, in a warm, comforting embrace. Exactly how she knew it was a man who held her, she could not have said. His scent was pleasant. A mix of fresh, crisp night air, the soft tang of wood dust and a rich earthy aroma. No hint of the heavy perfumes favored by Mr. Narwhal. Simply a comforting, almost familiar, warm male essence. She sighed as the combined scents soothed her fear away, calming her palpitating heart. She was safe at last.

"Oh, thank god." The whisper was all she could manage between gulps of air. She closed her eyes in relief. With complete confidence in the shelter of his secure embrace, she allowed herself to lean into this stranger's solid strength, taking comfort in the warmth emanating from him.

After several moments of resting, she became aware of the odd silence. As it continued, she opened her eyes, curious to know why her savior did not speak. Her head was bent and so she was looking down at the ground beneath their feet. The first thing she noticed in the flickering light were his boots. Huge black boots, splattered with mud and debris. Then, her gaze slowly traveled upward and her eyes began to widen as they took in the dark cloak settled around the massive being.

Disbelief and terror vied for possession of her senses. It couldn't be. Surely she was mistaken. She tilted her head further back, taking in the breadth of his massive chest and shoulders. The man was a colossus, a giant straight out of some fairy tale. Surely, this could not be the malicious creature who had terrorized her, dogging her every step these last hours. She felt compelled to see his face and leaned back in his embrace to get a glimpse into the depths of his hood. His features were nearly indiscernible but his eyes glittered, maliciously reflecting the flickering lantern light.

Her eyes bulged, a scream of pure terror clawed at her throat, begging for release, but her vocal cords were frozen. She was incapable of uttering a sound. Ice cold fear swept through her body and she sagged helplessly in his arms. And then, her knees buckled and she lost all the remaining strength in her limbs. She realized, with an almost detached calm, that she was falling. Blackness closed in around her, sucking her under and she was swallowed down whole.