Page 23 of The Duchess and the Beast
“It is fine. Really.”
“I take no pleasure in wearing the mask,” he confessed coldly, although she sensed it was not directed at her. “And one day...” He paused and shut his eyes, as if the thought itself pained him. “One day, I have no doubt you will see me without it. But for now, please, I must wear it.”
“Why?” she inquired carefully.
He sucked through his teeth, and she thought he was going to explode once more; indeed, he seemed to be holding himself together by the barest of threads. “I just do. Were you to see me unmasked...” He scoffed bitterly at himself. “You might flee back to your father’s home.”
“I would never,” Virtue protested gently.
“You say that now, but...” He tried to meet her eyes, however, nerves took him and he looked away. “No, I am sorry. It is truly for your own good, please believe me.”
Virtue was starting to understand her husband. Not fully. Not nearly enough. But she was now certain that he wasn’t simply bored of her in the slightest. The manner in which he was behaving, the restraint he showed, seemed to be for her own good. As if he was afraid to be himself—the mask contained his temper, keeping the beast at bay, as it was.
And where she wanted to push a little bit further for this was the first time that they had spoken properly all evening, she knew better than to do so. For now, she was simply glad to have raised the topic, feeling that at the very least she was beginning to understand him.
“Well, perhaps I too should get a mask,” she joked. “It might be quite becoming on me.”
He looked at her flatly. “You make fun.”
“Not at all,” she said seriously. “Though I might be inclined to only cover the left side of my face, as I believe the right to be my better half.”
“You have no bad side,” Sebastian murmured. “Both sides...” He hesitated, swallowing slightly. "You must know how beautiful you are, Virtue. It would be a sin to conceal any part of your visage.”
That had her blushing furiously, and where she tried to hold his gaze, she felt herself unable. A tiny spark, a slither of a flame built between them, and it was all she could do to not look away as if embarrassed. Which she was, a little. It might have been a small thing but now that she thought of it, not once had Lord Prescott so openly admired her beauty, or even so much as complimented her. She had always just assumed he found her as such but to hear it spoken out loud... yes, her cheeks undoubtedly attested to that.
Sebastian’s gaze lingered on her, seemingly amused by her blush. In an attempt to divert attention from her reddening cheeks, Virtue reached for her glass of wine but misjudged the distance, sending it crashing against her plate. The brittle glass shattered with a sharp, jarring sound.
“Oh, my!” Virtue recoiled with a start. “I am so...” She caught Sebastian across the table, half-expecting to see him amused by her mishap. Except, the expression she met was not one of mirth.
Something was amiss. Something she did not quite understand. Sebastian’s body had grown stiff, his face had contorted into a visage of terror, and his hands gripped the edges of the table as if he might hurl it aside.
“Sebastian...” she whispered softly. “Are you... is everything alright?”
His body shook and the deep growl that rumbled from his throat sent a cold spike of fear up Virtue’s spine. This was no mere temper tantrum or a fleeting loss of his composure. The violent shaking of his frame, the crimson flush of his face, the manner in which his teeth bared as he clenched his jaw and tried to contain himself… No, this was something else entirely.
“Are you...” she began, hesitating, unwilling to finish the question.
Sebastian’s face twitched. Still, he continued to growl. And then, suddenly, hands gripping the tablecloth, he wrenched it forward,upending the plates and glasses and mounds of food in one tremendous crash. The sound rang out through the dining room, like the bells of a Cathedral, which had Sebastian stumbling back from his chair, hands now clasped over his ears as he groaned as if from pain.
“Sebastian!” Without thinking, she went to him, rounding the table quickly. “Are you—
“Leave!” he cried. “Get out!” He fell to his knees, still holding his ears, still reeling as if he might explode.
“Please!” Virtue’s voice faltered, her feet rooted in place, not daring to draw too near. Sebastian, on his knees and clutching his face, resembled a character torn from the pages of her darkest tales—like that of a werewolf on the verge of turning. “What is wrong? Are you—”
“Out!” he roared.
This time, Virtue chose to heed his command. She had seen him angry already. Weathered the storms of his rage. Butthis…this was something else entirely. This was violent and ugly. This was dangerous. This had a feel that suggested if she got too close, he might inadvertently hurt her.
She fled the dining room, casting a backward glance only as she reached the doorway. Sebastian remained on his knees, his body rocking back and forth, convulsing as if waves of pain were coursing through him. As if agony pulsated through his body. Again, she thought to go to him... but fear kept her at bay.
Who was her husband? Who was the man she had married? She had thought she was beginning to understand him, but as Virtue hurried to her chambers and slammed the door behind her, she was forced to confront the terrifying truth—that she knew nothing at all. The whispers and rumors she had brushed aside about Sebastian now surged forth, demanding her attention. Perhaps there was a grain of truth to the fearful tales after all.
Maybe, just maybe, she had indeed married a monster.
CHAPTER TWELVE
He almost didn’t want to disturb her again.Ever, for that matter. After the unsettling episode, Sebastian had remained on the floor of the dining room, alone, in a sense of numb bewilderment. The candles had begun to flicker low, casting long shadows across the room, before he finally made to stand. And now, the last thing he wished to do was face the woman who had just fled from him as though her very life hung in the balance. And not because she had wanted to necessarily, but because he had commanded it.