2: The Castle

Beth clung to Mr. Thorne's arm around her waist, her teeth chattering as icy rain trickled down her face. Her hair was glued to her cheeks and tangled around her neck, her cloak and gown soaked through to her skin. Her whole body was numb, her fingers and toes aching painfully from the cold.

"We're nearly there," Mr. Thorne shouted over the onslaught of rain. Beth nodded, unable to speak as droplets of rain hit her already numb face.

Beth leaned closer against Mr. Thorne, trying to soak up some of the warmth that seemed to roll off of him in waves. Though she shook violently against the cold, Mr. Thorne felt as though he was on fire, and she couldn't help but relish the warmth that his nearness offered.

He stiffened behind her as she held onto him, his grip around her waist tightening as his warm breath ghosted over her temple. She tilted her head and glanced up at him to find his hard unreadable eyes on her, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

There was something possessive in the way that he stared at her, and it both frightened and unnerved her. Beth glanced away quickly, trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered when he looked at her that way. She had never imagined herself as the type of young lady who could become so flustered by a mere glance from the opposite sex, and could remember teasing her friends back home when they had giggled and blushed over the smallest glance from the blacksmith's son. But Mr. Thorne was certainly no blacksmith's son. He was like no man Beth had ever met in her life. His very presence was commanding and drew the attention of those around him, most especially Beth's.

Beth knew that she irritated him, and she could sense that he saw her as a nuisance that had upset his morning. He behaved as though he was superior to her in every way, acting as if he was entitled to respect even though he didn't offer it in return. He seemed to lack compassion of the most basic kind, and she wondered why he had bothered to help her at all.

Guilt slid over her at the harsh turn her thoughts had taken in regards to Mr. Thorne, and she shook her head. How could she be so ungrateful? Her father had raised her better than that, yet she couldn't help the way that she felt. She hoped that once she was warm, dry, and free of the mind numbing cold of the elements, she would see things more clearly. And she hoped that she would discover that her assessment of Mr. Thorne had been completely wrong.

Lightning lit up the sky, revealing in the distance a large castle, situated against a backdrop of mountains already covered in snow.

As they galloped through a set of large iron gates, Beth was overcome with a sense of dread, every part of her screaming that she should not set foot in that place. She pushed the thought out of her mind, certain that the dilapidated exterior of the castle, and the stone gargoyles that snarled down at her from their perches high above, were the only reason for her anxiety.

Mr. Thorne pulled hard on the reins and swung down from his horse, reaching up and helping Beth down from the saddle.

Beth glanced towards where Mr. Leonard and Mr. Gibbs climbed down from their horse, both men soaked and trembling as badly as she was.

"See to the horses," Mr. Thorne barked over the roaring wind. Mr. Gibbs nodded, handing the reins of his mare to Mr. Leonard and taking hold of Mr. Thorne's horse.

Mr. Thorne grabbed Beth by the elbow and led her up the stone steps, the large oak doors creaking open before they reached them.

"Get in here before you catch your death!" A stout woman with wild red curls tucked beneath a bonnet shouted from the doorway. Beth lifted her sopping skirts in her hand and tried to keep up with Mr. Thorne's long strides as he pulled her along beside him through the doors and past the small red haired woman.

"Where are you taking me?" Beth asked, craning her neck as she took in her surroundings. The large foyer was gloomy despite the candles that burned, and cobwebs dangled from the high chandelier below the grand staircase. The hardwood floor was polished to a rich shine, clashing oddly with the rotting Persian rug spread atop it. The staircase went up towards a large stained glass image of a deep crimson rose framed in vines, reflecting shades of green and red over the staircase beneath it despite the gloom outside. The staircase forked off to the left and right of the stained glass window, ending before darkened hallways that Beth couldn't see into from her vantage point.

"It's so beautiful," Beth murmured, as she looked over the tapestries that lined the walls.

"Stop making a pest of yourself," Mr. Thorne snapped. "You are not the only one who is cold and exhausted."

Beth met his harsh gaze and realized that she had stopped in her tracks before a large tapestry displaying a scene of knights engaged in a fearsome battle.

"Oh!" Beth gasped, lifting the edge of her skirt and allowing him to lead her once more. "I'm sorry, sir. I just can't seem to pull my eyes away from all of your lovely artwork. You have so many exquisite statuettes and fine paintings, it seems I couldn't help but stop and admire at least one."

"Women," Mr. Thorne grunted, his eyebrows knitted together. "Always letting whatever pops into their heads come out of their mouths."

Beth let out an angry huff, opened her mouth to protest to Mr. Thorne's comment, but the stout women who had been walking along with them caught Beth's attention with a polite smile, taking Beth's travel bag with a kindly nod and swiftly unclasping the cape at Beth's neck with her other hand.

Mr. Thorne opened a door, and then another, pulling Beth along down a narrow hallway before they finally reached a small sitting room where a fire blazed between two grand bookcases.

Mr. Thorne pushed her down into a large wingback chair near the fire then tugged off his coat, throwing the soaked wool material over a footstool in the corner.
"Stay here," Mr. Thorne said, and she knew it wasn't a request. He disappeared through the door, leaving Beth alone with the small woman who smelled of strawberries and fresh baked bread.

"Hello, dear," the small woman said, kneeling down to take off Beth's soaked shoes. "I'm Mrs. Gibbs."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. I'm Elizabeth Townsend," Beth said, her teeth chattering slightly. She was freezing to her very bones, her whole body trembling. She hugged herself and leaned closer to the fire, relishing the warmth that it provided her.

"You poor dear," Mrs. Gibbs frowned. She stood and left the room, returning with a large wool blanket which she wrapped around Beth's shoulders. "Now tell me how a young lady like yourself has come to be stranded way out here."

Beth shared her story with Mrs. Gibbs, the details of her life in her small hometown, her father's death, and her journey to Somerset.

"I fear that if I don't make it there soon, I will most certainly lose my position," Beth said finally, the gravity of her situation setting in for the first time since her ordeal that morning. "I don't know what I will do then."

"It will be alright, dear," Mrs. Gibbs murmured, giving Beth's hand a gentle squeeze. "You're safe and warm now, that's all that matters. Perhaps once the worst of the storm has passed, Mr. Leonard can ride out and deliver a message to the Cossington's. I'm certain that a letter from Mr. Thorne will help persuade them to hold your position until you are able to travel safely out of these woods."

Beth couldn't wrap her head around the idea that Mr. Thorne would offer her any sort of help beyond the bare minimum. "Do you really think that he would help me?"

"Why of course dear," Mrs. Gibbs said, though her brows knitted together as though she wasn't very sure of it. "Why wouldn't he?"

"While I am most grateful for his help," Beth said, nibbling her lip as she tried to figure out how best to proceed, "he doesn't seem very happy to have me here. I can't help but wonder""

Beth hesitated, staring at the fire which crackled and flickered in the silence.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Gibbs asked, taking Beth's still cold hands in her warm ones.

"If Mr. Gibbs hadn't shown up, I don't think that Mr. Thorne would have helped us. I think he would have sent us on our way, storm or not."

The door slammed abruptly, making both women jump.

"Please don't let me interrupt," Mr. Thorne sneered, taking a seat in the chair near Beth. "I would like to hear more about my cruel nature from our guest."

Beth glanced at him, his gaze fixed on the flames before him as he brought a glass of dark liquid to his lips. His hair clung to his cheeks and water dotted his face, yet he didn't seem bothered by the cold that still left Beth feeling numb.

"I meant no offense, Mr. Thorne," Beth murmured, but she knew the damage had already been done. "Please accept my apologies. It has been a very trying day and I think I am just overwrought."

Mr. Thorne laughed darkly, turning his cold eyes on her as the firelight cast his features in an eerie play of light and shadow, accentuating the deep scar on his face.

"Perhaps Mrs. Gibbs should show you to your room then, Miss Townsend, so that you may rest."

He turned back towards the fire, tugging the soaked cravat from around his neck and loosening his collar. He downed the last bit of his drink and slid lower in his chair, looking bored as he stared at the flames.

"How is Mr. Leonard?" Beth asked. Though she was desperate to escape the awkwardness of being anywhere near Mr. Thorne after what she had said, she wouldn't leave until she was certain that the kindly old coach driver was doing alright.

Mr. Thorne gave her an irritated look that seemed to be the only reaction she could get from him, but she refused to be intimidated. She told herself that she was trembling from the chill that still consumed her, but she knew that it was the way that Mr. Thorne's magnetic blue eyes studied her face that caused her to shiver.

"He is quite well," Mr. Thorne said, sounding uninterested. "The wound on his head was merely a scratch once I wiped away the blood. He required no sutures, and is getting warm by the fire in the kitchen with Mr. Gibbs."

"Thank goodness for that," Beth murmured, letting out a sigh of relief.

Mr. Thorne smirked then looked back at the fire. The room fell silent, and Mr. Thorne continued to focus his attention straight ahead.

Mrs. Gibbs gave Beth's hand a gentle pat to get her attention. "Come along then dear," Mrs. Gibbs instructed, turning towards the door.

Beth stood slowly, her limbs stiff from the cold. She held the blanket tightly around her, but instead of following Mrs. Gibbs from the room, she turning hesitantly towards Mr. Thorne.

"I cannot begin to express how grateful I am for your hospitality, sir." She said, unable to keep her voice from trembling. "If not for your help, I don't know what I would have done."

Mr. Thorne's face softened for the briefest of moments, before growing stern once more. Beth almost wondered if it had only been a trick of the light, and she was certain that it had been when he made his next statement.

"I only hope that it does not speak ill of your character, allowing yourself to remain as a guest with a cruel beast such as myself, Miss Townsend."

Beth didn't know what to make of his comment, unsure about whether or not he was insulting her or himself.

Though she certainly took offense to his harsh tone and cruel manner, she did not think he was a beast. What had she done to give him that idea? Was it the way she so openly stared at his face?

Her cheeks heated, certain that Mr. Thorne had assumed she stared at him because she found him repulsive"but in truth it was the opposite. He had an intensity about him that drew her in, and a sadness that seemed to resonate from his beautiful eyes. His very existence seemed a lonely one, isolated in a forest castle far from the rest of the world. Her mind ran wild with questions about Mr. Thorne, such as why he lived so far from civilization in the first place. He was handsome, wealthy, and clearly intelligent, so why had he exiled himself so completely when he had so much to offer the world?

Beth sighed, knowing that she could puzzle over Mr. Thorne for hours trying to figure out what he was all about. He had to be hiding something, there was no other explanation for the way he lived and the way that he behaved. And Beth knew that at some point, she would figure out what his secret was.

~~~

Garrett stared into the fire as he waited for Miss Townsend to leave, the sound of her bare feet on the carpeted floor reaching his heightened sense of hearing. Once he heard the door close softly and latch into place, he hurled his empty glass at the wall with a furious growl and stood. He raked his fingers through his damp hair, ripping it free of its binding.

Garrett had heard everything the young beauty had told Mrs. Gibbs, and it killed him to admit to himself that although she was right about him, her words still cut deep.

He had always been selfish and cruel, and though he had been cursed because of his callous nature, he hadn't made any attempt to change. He saw no point in extending any sort of decency or compassion, because deep down he couldn't imagine anyone ever showing him the same kindness. Who would ever care about a monster? Who would ever willingly open their heart to someone whose life had been shrouded in selfishness and greed, a life now tormented by loneliness and self loathing?  

He leaned on the mantle and stared down into the flames, perplexed as to why he cared at all about what the young woman thought of him. She had been right in her assessment after all"yet Miss Townsend's kindness and gratitude, despite his unkind words, made him feel completely off balance.

He had listened as Miss Townsend told Mrs. Gibbs the story of why she had risked traveling during such a volatile winter, and that's when Garrett understood that the young lady had no other choice. She was all alone in the world, having lost her mother at a very young age, and had also lost her father just eight months ago. For her own survival she was forced to seek out employment as soon as she possibly could, her only option being to travel quickly to Somerset to secure her position, and to escape the cryptic warning from Edmund Leech.

When Miss Townsend told of how Edmund had tried to manipulate her, Garrett had been overwhelmed with a carnal rage that he had only experienced when he was fully transformed into the beast. It frightened Garrett that in his human form he had the strangest urge to hunt down Edmund and rip his beating heart from his chest.

Garrett sighed, knowing that he was far more of a danger to Miss Townsend then that sniveling snake Edmund would ever be. The full moon was just three days away, and Garrett's experiments had not yielded very promising results. He knew he wouldn't be able to cure the beast within him, but with his well rounded understanding of both science and medicine, he had created a formula that had slowed his transformation, and in high doses had brought it to a complete halt. Yet his formula was not without its problems. There were occasions where he would fully transform but still have his human wits about him, while at other times he wouldn't transform at all, but his mind would bend to the will of the beast. Garrett knew that his formula still needed work, but since he hadn't aged a day since the moment he was cursed by the old woman in the forest, he was certain that he would have all of eternity to try and figure out what he was doing wrong.

Garrett had hoped that he would eventually die and the curse with him, and was devastated when he realized that the curse couldn't be so easily gotten rid of. To some the idea of immortality" being frozen in time at the age of twenty-eight" might seem appealing, but Garrett was miserable. He was living in a private hell made worse by the constant loneliness and the monster that tore free of its shackles during the full moon.

Garrett flopped down into his chair and propped his booted feet up onto the small footrest, his lids heavy despite the early morning hour. The storm raged outside, and his thoughts drifted to the beauty roaming the halls of his castle, and it sent the strangest flutter through his chest as he imagined her being a part of his life, as he imagined her being his.

Garrett laughed humorlessly at his foolish musings, disgusted with himself. It was clear that she was frightened of him and his unsightly face, so what would she do when she saw that he was a wretched beast to the very depths of his soul?

Yet what worried Garrett most of all was what the beast within him might do if it ever got its hands on her.

~~~

"It's lovely," Beth murmured, staring up at the high vaulted ceilings.

She looked around at her bedroom, feeling like a princess when she realized that she was going to be able to call this room her own for at least a few days. The four poster bed alone was more amazing than anything she had ever seen, the posts draped in white lace, with a deep red comforter and large pillows lined up across the bed. She ran her hands over the delicate silk comforter which was embroidered with black roses, amazed by the intricate detail beneath her fingers.

Beth turned towards the small sitting area before the fireplace, smiling when she saw that one of the chairs was large and overstuffed, and Beth knew it would be the perfect place to curl up and read by the firelight.

Beth looked out one of several large windows, framed in white lace just as the bed was, and stared in awe at the fierce storm raging beyond the serenity of her new quarters. She turned back towards the room, a girlish grin spreading across her face when her eyes settled on a small bookcase in the corner, stuffed full with volumes of books. She ran her fingers along the worn leather bindings, unable to hide the grin plastered on her face when she saw that some of the books were ones that she had in her own collection.

Her heart saddened when she realized that her small library was probably buried under a mountain of snow by now, and would most certainly be ruined, if not lost to her entirely.

"Come and warm yourself by the fire," Mrs. Gibbs said, kneeling before the fireplace. "I'm going to fetch some water so that you can take a hot bath and get the chill out of your bones. While I'm gone you get out of those wet clothes and wrap yourself in that blanket, you hear?"

Beth smiled, Mrs. Gibbs motherly authority lifting her spirits. Her own mother had died when she was six, so Beth's memories of her were brief, yet each was a treasure that she held close to her heart.

"I will Mrs. Gibbs. But won't you please let me help you?" Beth said, taking a seat in front of the growing fire.

"Nonsense, child," Mrs. Gibbs said, waving off Beth's offer. "I can manage just fine."

"But you said you are short staffed during the winter," Beth argued. "I am no stranger to hard work, I assure you. I am more than happy to earn my keep."

"You are a guest, young lady," Mrs. Gibbs said simply. "Not a servant."

"Yes, but I--"

"But nothing, dear," Mrs. Gibbs said. "It is my pleasure to take care of you. Do you know how long it has been since I have had anyone to take care of besides Mr. Thorne?"

Beth shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. There was no winning this argument, she knew, and she was certain that Mrs. Gibbs was in charge of the goings on in the castle, rather than Mr. Thorne.

"Fifteen years," Mrs. Gibbs said emphatically. "I'm going mad with no one to serve, I tell you. No one to enjoy the sweets I bake, no young lady who needs her hair done, no female companionship."

Beth frowned as the older woman's green eyes saddened.

"Well it seems I arrived just in time, doesn't it?" Beth said warmly. "But won't you please call me Beth, Mrs. Gibbs?"

The older woman's face lit up, her hands settling on her wide hips. "Well then I must insist that you call me Fiona."

Beth sank back in the overstuffed chair, pulling her feet up under her. "I'd like that, Fiona. And I must say that is a very lovely name."

"Well aren't you a sweet girl," Mrs. Gibbs laughed, tugging the blanket up over Beth's shoulders. "Now don't you go falling asleep before you get out of those soaked clothes," Fiona said firmly, her motherly demeanor returning full force.

Beth smiled sleepily, suppressing a yawn on the back of her hand. She hadn't realized just how exhausting her ordeal had been, or how going from freezing cold to warm and cozy could make her so eager for a nap.

"I'll be back with the water soon dear," Fiona said, patting Beth lightly on the cheek. Beth watched as Fiona left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

~~~

"What's come over you, sir? Speaking to a frightened young lady like that," Mr. Gibbs scolded, taking a seat in the chair beside Garrett. "There is no excuse for your behavior."

"Is there a point to this line of discussion, Mr. Gibbs?" Garrett muttered, downing his third glass of brandy. "Miss Townsend has a roof over her head and is free of the storm, is she not? I see no reason to extend my hospitality further."

"I must disagree, sir," Mr. Gibbs said, shaking his head. "Your behavior was… is unacceptable. Fiona tells me you were quite rude to the young lady when""

"And what if I was rude to the girl?" Garrett shrugged, not meeting the older man's inquisitive grey eyes. "The moment she set her eyes on me it was plain to see how disgusted she was, how terrified. I'm certain she had anticipated such cruelty the moment she saw my face."

"Hogwash!" Mr. Gibbs laughed. "That young lady was looking at you as though you were a beautiful fallen angel. I daresay you were looking at her in much the same manner."

Garrett sat up in his chair, meeting Mr. Gibbs' steady gaze.

"She's a silly girl who nearly got herself and that old driver killed," Garrett said harshly. "She wasted our time and has inconvenienced me greatly. There is nothing more to it than that."

Garrett pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and squeezed his eyes closed, trying to force the image of Miss Townsend's full red lips and pale skin out of his mind.

Yet closing his eyes only made her appear more vividly, right down to the curl of her thick brown hair as it snaked over her shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through that gorgeous mane, certain that it would feel smoother than the finest silk.

Garrett raked a hand through his tangled hair, turning warily to Mr. Gibbs. "No good can come of her being here, Mr. Gibbs. She is in constant danger as long as she remains under this roof. The sooner we can send her on her way, the better."

"You're trying to protect her, aren't you?" Mr. Gibbs said, a knowing smile on his face. Garrett frowned, already aware of what the old man was thinking. "That's why you have been so callous. You're trying to put distance between yourself and the young lady, for her sake."

Garrett scowled and glanced away, heat rising in his cheeks. He couldn't stand it that after so many years Mr. Gibbs could still read his every emotion as though they were his own.

Mr. Gibbs chuckled, slapping a hand on his knee. "I know that look, sir. You are smitten with the young Miss Townsend, are you not? She is a lovely young lady. She seems very agreeable, to be sure."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken, Mr. Gibbs." Garrett said, hoping that his tone sounded indifferent.

"Love at first sight," Mr. Gibbs murmured, spinning the gold band on his finger as he shot a toothy grin at Garrett. "Just as it was with my Fiona."

"I said you are mistaken," Garrett said flatly.

There was no point in dreaming that he could ever win the heart of Miss Townsend. For one thing he didn't deserve her affection, or the affection of anyone for that matter. But more importantly, at some point, he would hurt her. Perhaps even kill her. It was better to make her feel so unwelcome, so disliked, that she would be eager to get as far away from him as she could.

"Why are you denying it, sir?" Mr. Gibbs asked, his brows drawn together. "You forget that I know how you look when you are not being honest, the way your lips turn down and you toy with your sleeves, just as you are now. What are you afraid of?"  

Garrett let out a shaky sigh, sitting back in his chair. "Enough of this talk, Mr. Gibbs. It's nonsense. Miss Townsend will be gone before the week is out, and we will be free of the inconvenience that her presence has caused."

"I daresay you are afraid of the young lady," Mr. Gibbs muttered. "And you and I both know that it has nothing to do with your…situation. She has reawakened feelings within you that you thought were long dead, has she not?"

"That's enough Mr. Gibbs," Garret said flatly.

"Do you believe that the desires and hopes that Miss Townsend has made you feel are ones that you do not deserve to have? Because I can assure you sir, that you""

"You will remember your place, Mr. Gibbs." Garrett snapped, casting the old man a warning stare.

"Don't you raise your voice at me," Mr. Gibbs said, standing abruptly and tugging at his vest, pointing his bony finger at Garrett. "I know my place very well, and I have gone above and beyond what is asked of me. As you well know, sir."

"I hadn't realized that you were being so inconvenienced by remaining here." Garrett snarled. "Once the storm has cleared, you and your wife are welcome to leave. I am perfectly able to""

Mr. Gibbs slammed his fist down forcefully on the mantle, startling Garrett from his dark thoughts. Garrett studied the old man, unease creeping over him when he realized that he had never seen his valet so angry. Mr. Gibb's hand was trembling where it rested on the mantle, his cheeks ruddy and his lips quivering as he glared down at Garrett.

"D****t man!" Mr. Gibbs shouted. "Why must you push everyone away? I remain here, just as Fiona remains here, because we love you! You know full well that we could never have children of our own, and when your mother and father died, God rest them, Fiona and I stayed on because you mean the world to us! You are more than just our employer, you are like a son! So do not dare to behave as though our being here is merely for employment."

Garrett pulled his eyes away from Mr. Gibbs, feeling like a b*****d for the second time that morning. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, resting his forehead in the palms of his hands.

"I'm sorry Peter." Garrett murmured, too ashamed to meet the old man's gaze.

Mr. Gibbs stepped closer and rested his hand on Garrett's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know, son." He sighed.   

"I say these terrible things, and I"" Garrett shook his head. "I don't know what to do, Peter. I'm afraid that this evil inside me will be all that is left, and what little good that was once inside me will be lost forever."

"The evil will only take over if you let it," Mr. Gibbs said. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"It's been getting worse, I know you can see that," Garrett growled, slamming his fists down on his knees. "Especially as the full moon draws near. I can barely contain the beast. I do not mean to take it out on you, or anyone. I just""

He glanced up at Mr. Gibb's face, and saw only kindness and acceptance there. His heart twisted as he noted how much the old man had changed over the years, how he had aged while Garrett had not. It terrified him that he was going to lose the closest thing to a father he had ever known.

"There is no shame in being afraid," Mr. Gibbs said, offering a warm smile. "There are many who are willing to share this burden with you, if you would only let us in."

"You have already done enough, I assure you. Just your presence here means a great deal. Never doubt that." Garrett smiled sadly, thinking over the years that Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs had stayed with him, even when he had transformed into a monster before their very eyes.

In the flicker of firelight Garrett could see the deep scar on Mr. Gibb's hand where Garrett had clawed him during his first full moon. Garrett knew that there was a far worse gash down the middle of the old man's back, for he had been the one to suture the wound the day after his first transformation. Garrett had thought they would leave after that horrible night, that they would be terrified of him after what he had done. After what he had become.

Yet in spite of everything, Garrett had awakened the next morning to find them watching over him as he slept, the relief on their faces to see him alive reaching the cold recesses of his heart.

"Since I have done so much for you, sir," Mr. Gibbs said, a mischievous smile spreading across his face, "I would like you to do something for me."

"And what might that be, Mr. Gibbs?" Garrett asked, though he already knew what the old man would ask of him.  

"Invite Miss Townsend to join you for dinner," Mr. Gibbs said casually.

"That I cannot do," Garrett said. "I have far too much work to do in the laboratory, and""

"Surely you can put off your experiments for one evening, sir."

"I thought you understood that I am distancing myself for her sake, Mr. Gibbs." Garrett sighed.

"I understand that full well, sir." Mr. Gibbs said with a slight nod. "But it is only for one evening, and we so rarely have company. I daresay Fiona plans to cook everything in the kitchen as she does not know what the young Miss Townsend likes to eat."

"Even so, Mr. Gibbs, I--"

"You deserve to have some pleasure in your life, son." Mr. Gibbs said sadly. "The full moon is still several days off, so why not enjoy yourself a bit? I'm certain the young lady will be very pleasant company. All I ask is that you control your temper. No more harsh words when you address Miss Townsend, understand? Otherwise you'll have Fiona to answer to."

Garrett looked questioningly at Mr. Gibbs, who chuckled.

"It seems Fiona has taken quite a shine to our young guest," Mr. Gibbs said, shaking his head. "So if I were you I'd agree to dinner, and be on my best behavior. I don't think Fiona is beyond taking a switch to your backside if you even look at Miss Townsend the wrong way."

"Alright," Garrett muttered, biting back a grin. Fiona was not one to be trifled with, her motherly energy both a pleasure and a nuisance to Garrett. He tried to tell himself that his fear of Fiona's wrath was the only reason why he had agreed to dine with Miss Townsend. But deep down, Garrett knew that he had been planning to ask Miss Townsend to join him for dinner as soon as he saw her again.

"Very good, sir," Mr. Gibbs said, sitting back in his chair. "Because Fiona is informing Miss Townsend of your request as we speak."

~~~

When Fiona returned with her fifth pail of steaming hot water, Beth was already undressed and curled under the soft wool blanket, ready to fall asleep in front of the fire.

"Get in dear, before the water gets cold," Fiona said, sprinkling a small tin of powder over the steaming water.

Beth dipped in a toe and smiled at Fiona, who turned away so that Beth could set the blanket aside and climb into the water. She let out a contented sigh as she sat back in the narrow metal tub, the heat of the water reaching to her bones as the scent of lavender drifter up from the steam.

"Thank you Fiona," Beth murmured, smiling as she grabbed the bar of soap and washcloth.

"Of course, dear," Fiona said, picking up Beth's damp clothes and draping them over the grate in front of the fireplace. She went to a large wardrobe in the corner and pulled out a dark green dress and matching slippers, draping them over a nearby chair.

"Is that for me?" Beth asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She had never seen such a lovely gown in her life, and had certainly never worn anything so fine. "I couldn't possibly wear that."

"Then what will you wear, dear?" Fiona asked with amusement. "You can't run around in your shift."

Beth flushed, glancing down at the bar of white soap in her hand. "I know you're right. I just don't want to be a burden. You have already been so very kind to me."

Fiona came over and knelt beside the tub, smiling warmly at Beth. "You are no burden, my dear. In fact, I think you are just the blessing we have been waiting for."

Beth frowned at the cryptic words, and was just about to ask Fiona what she had meant when the old woman stood abruptly and clapped her hands together.

"Well then, now is as good a time as any to go over the rules of the house with you," she said brightly.

"Rules?" Beth asked. "Yes of course, Fiona."

"Dinner is served promptly at seven-thirty every night, and Mr. Thorne has asked that you join him every evening during your stay. You are welcome to take your other meals and your tea anywhere you like, as Mr. Thorne usually takes his in his private rooms."

"Alright," Beth said anxiously. She was suddenly very nervous about dining with Mr. Thorne, intimidating as he was. She didn't know if she would be able to hold her fork steady if he watched her with those intense eyes of his.

"You are welcome to explore any part of the castle that you wish, dear. We have a lovely library, and the sitting room has wonderful light in the afternoon. It is perfect if you enjoy needlepoint." Fiona's tone grew serious when her green eyes met Beth's. "There is one part of the castle where you are forbidden to go."

"Forbidden?" Beth asked, intrigued.

"The west wing is where Mr. Thorne's private rooms and laboratory are housed, dear. He doesn't allow anyone in his laboratory, you see. He is very private about the work that he is doing."

"I see," Beth said, lathering soap over her arms. "Why does he need a laboratory in the first place? Is he a scientist?"

"Oh, Mr. Thorne is a very smart man," Fiona said proudly. "He went to medical school, and has always had a knack for the sciences and a curiosity about how things work. I only wish that he"" Fiona cleared her throat then glanced at Beth. "Now, you must promise me that you will never stray into that part of the castle, dear. Understand?"

Beth nodded slowly, her curiosity demanding that she seek out the laboratory the first chance she got. She had always been a curious person, especially as a child. Tree climbing and exploring the woods near town were not activities left only to the boys. As she got older, Beth fed her desire for adventure through her books, devouring novels on every subject since the young age of eight.

When Beth looked up at Fiona's worried face, her desire to go exploring amplified. The woman looked almost frightened, and Beth knew that she was hiding something very intriguing. It seemed that there was more to Mr. Thorne than she ever could have imagined, and she had to know what it was.

"Well I'm glad that's settled," Fiona said, her melodic voice cutting through Beth's thoughts. "You finish your bath now, dear, and I'll fetch you some tea."

"Thank you Fiona," Beth called, but the woman had already disappeared through the door. Beth leaned back in the tub, running her fingers across the water, sending small ripples across the surface.

"The west wing," Beth murmured. She glanced towards the door, her eyebrow raised as she thought about her strange rescuer. "What are you hiding up there, Mr. Thorne?"

Author's Note

Please let me know if you see any grammar and/or spelling mistakes. I hope you are enjoying the story so far, and as always, thank you for reading!