Beheld (Kendra Chronicles #4)

“He’s a monster!” Ethel said. “That’s the only possible explanation.”

Esther was nodding, but she said, “I don’t know about a monster, Ethel. He could just—”

“A monster!” Ethel repeated. “Why else would he need to force someone to marry him, then hide himself?”

“He didn’t force me,” I protested. “I met him at the party. I fell in love with him then. I would have married him anyway.”

“Nonsense,” Ethel said. “He was wearing a mask then too. If anything, that confirms it.”

“It was a fancy-dress party,” I said, though I knew they were right. I had thought of it myself.

“Here we go, madam!” Mary was coming in with the tea things.

“Oh, this all looks lovely, Mary,” I said, willing my sisters to be still, to change the subject. “Thank you so much for preparing this special, special treat!”

“Of course. I would do anything for Phillip’s wife.” She nodded rather curtly at Ethel and Esther, so I knew she’d heard. “And her family.”

I wanted to beg Mary to tell them Phillip was handsome, to tell me that. But it would have looked like a betrayal of Phillip. I couldn’t ask.

“Biscuit, Mum?” I passed them to her as Mary poured the tea.

For five blessed minutes, they were silent.

As soon as Mary left, they were back to the same subject.

“You have to leave him,” Ethel said.

“She can’t leave him,” Mum said.

“Well, find out what he looks like, then? Use a candle. Assure that he isn’t a . . . freak.”

“He isn’t a freak,” I said. “He’s wonderful. He’s a war hero.”

“Yes,” Ethel said. “He was injured in the war. How do you know he even has all his parts—his eyes, his nose, his—?”

“I’ve been close enough to know he has a nose. Even in the dark. I’ve . . . touched him.”

“Have you kissed him?” Esther asked. “Or . . . more?”

“Yes,” I said. “I know.”

“You know . . . nothing,” Ethel said. “If there can be magic, there can be monsters. Perhaps he’s been able to deceive you . . . in the dark. But what of in the light?”

I looked at Esther, always the nicer of my sisters. She was nodding too. “I fear you must find out,” she said.

We ate our tea and toast in silence. All the joy of seeing them was gone. I didn’t even show them the music room before they left, though I had so wanted Esther to see the beautiful piano.

I knew they were merely jealous of me. They’d had their chance to marry Phillip, but they had refused. Now, seeing me here in an elegant house with jewels and all my heart desired, they were sorry. Still, it grated on me, and as I shut the door behind them, I thought about what I could do.

I wanted to be able to tell my sisters what I knew to be true, that Phillip was beautiful, inside and out. If I could look at him but once, I could say that forever. I would look that night. He had said he couldn’t show himself to me, but if I snuck a glance, that would be different. He wouldn’t be involved. I could pretend it was an accident.

I looked at the table. Mary had cleared away the tea things, and the table was empty, save two elegant candelabra with red tapers left over from the Christmas holiday.

I took one of the tapers and hid it in my dress.

Then I went into the kitchen, where Maeve was cooking dinner.

“I wanted to thank you for the wonderful tea,” I said. “My sisters loved the cookies.” I searched the room for the matches I knew were there. I saw them by the stove and walked sideways over there.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Maeve said.

“And what lovelies are you preparing tonight?”

“Oh, don’t know about lovelies, with the rationing, but we’re having chicken and potatoes and green beans.”

Backed against the stove, I snatched up the matches and stuffed them up my sleeve.

“You always do so well with so little. Green beans are my favorites,” I said, and took the matches.

“I’ll remember that, ma’am.” She smiled. “I can make them as often as you like.”

I left the room and went upstairs. I secreted the candle and matches in the nightstand.

That night, after a dinner during which I told Phillip that everything had gone well with my sisters, we went to bed. But I lay awake until I heard Phillip’s breathing become even with sleep, and then an hour more, until the clock downstairs struck one. Finally, I went to the nightstand and took out the forbidden candle.

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