I’ve no idea when or how the Beast appeared in the parlor, but he is here now, glaring at the door Marguerite just closed behind her. “Finally, you decide to come out of hiding.” His mouth pulls away from his big, sharp teeth. “There are… people in my home,” he says. “I don’t like it. And you’re not marrying him.” I never intended to, but I do not feel merciful enough to tell him that now. “I might not have a choice. You heard my sister, Monsieur Lafarge has gone to great lengths to take care of my family in my absence and—” “Lafarge is a bilious, tight fisted wretch. He was a bastard fifty years ago, and he is still a bastard now. You are not marrying him.” How does he know that? My heart squeezes at the reminder of his curse. Now I have a sense of how long it must have lasted. He must have known the man in his youth. The Lafarge family has always been rich. Ever since they laid claim to the largest fields. They now own the majority of farmland and employ the villagers to do the work, selling them back the fruits of the land.
