Beauty Meets her Beast Ch. 05

One night, as we were out for a walk, he kissed me. He'd tenderly cupped my face in his hands, and ever so slowly leaned his face to mine, his lips soft against my own, hesitant and questioning. His thumb brushed against my cheek as his lips lingered.

I felt nothing.

Was that it, then? Would I never feel the same way about another man? Was I doomed to a life of apathy, made all the more bitter by possessing knowledge of what love truly could feel like? I had to make sure. I pressed myself against Gavin, the shock evident in his sudden stiffness, but then he leaned into it. His hands slipped lower, spanning my waist and drawing me in as he deepened the kiss. His lips were no longer questioning, they were more certain now, and easing my own apart. His tongue caressed mine, excited.

Still I felt nothing.

His kiss was passionate, the kiss of one in the grips of strong feeling. I returned it, but could find no joy in it. My body did not respond; he felt all wrong. He was shorter than Lord August and his body hit mine in different places, lower. His lips and tongue were warm and wet, but their motions felt unfamiliar and strange. His hands on my body were respectfully holding still and not roving and searching, bringing the tantalizing pleasure that another set had. I could not do this. I shoved him away, and he immediately backed off, a look of surprise and shame in his eyes.

"Belle," he began, but I could not listen to him then, I had to get away. I turned and fled, running the whole way to my bedroom and slamming it closed behind me, my actions all too familiar but unavoidable. Gavin did not follow me.

He was at our house often for the next few days, trying to apologize I am sure, but I refused to see him. As soon as I saw him coming up the road I would retreat to my room. I couldn't tell him the truth, and I could think of no lie that would serve my purpose. If I said nothing, surely he would eventually give up and tire of the chase, moving on to another, more willing, and less complicated girl. My sisters begged for explanation, my father demanded to know if he had made an unwelcome advance on me. I said nothing, save a little to put Father's mind at rest.

They knew nothing of the truth of my time with Lord August, how could they understand that my heart was not open and free? I had tried to will it so, but hearts are stubborn and complex. Gavin was a good man, had been nothing but kind to me, yet I could not see myself loving him. All my efforts to avoid him were in vain though, as he caught up with me in the garden one day. He'd come around the back way, through the pastures instead of by the main road.

"Belle."

I looked up. He was behind me, blocking my route to the house.

"Belle, please, please let me explain. I know you must think I'm a terrible cad who's used you ill, but listen, please. I'm so sorry for my behavior, for stealing a kiss, but you must believe that I felt it was not dishonourable; I want to make you my wife. I want to marry you and kiss you freely, with your consent. I've spoken with your father already and he's given his approval. I should never have kissed you like that, but you looked so beautiful and so tempting, and I meant to propose to you soon and make things official and right. I promise to be the best husband, the most grateful one, if you'll only be my wife." His voice and tone were pleading. He looked terrible, and I felt guilty for not putting his mind at ease earlier.

"It's not about the kiss," I began. In a small way it was, but not in the way he thought. "Please don't think anymore about that, but Gavin... no. I'm sorry, but no, I cannot marry you."

I knew I might be throwing away my chances at a happy future, and quite possibly the only offer of marriage I might receive, but I could not do it, in part because I had grown genuinely fond of him and felt he deserved better than a wife who could not love him. Perhaps over time it might grow, but I couldn't risk it. Having spoken my piece, everything in my head felt clearer, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that things were not quite all done between Lord August and myself.

Gavin asked again, pleaded with me to reconsider. I refused again, in the most kind manner I could. If he only knew the truth, he would know I was doing him a favor as much as myself. At last, embarrassed, he slunk from the garden, and I dropped the trowel I'd been working with and turned to the forest.

I had to see him one last time.