Richard spent the day riding. He did not care overmuch for the dark of winter, the lack of sunlight. It made him disagreeable. ’Twas almost time for supper. His horse, wanting his own meal, turned for home when a cat ran in front of them, a small creature struggling in its jaws. Not only was Richard’s hall overrun with children, but now hounds and cats.

He blamed Maron. One morn she found him in his solar and told him why there needs be cats at Bainford. The villagers would say the devil’s familiars were holding court, but she would not be dissuaded.

She told him her cat, whom she named Joan, was a warrior of cats and caught mountains of rats and mice.

The corners of his mouth pulled up, and then he found himself laughing. The child jumped at the noise; ’twas rare Richard laughed. Mostly, he liked to stomp about and bellow.

In the end, Joan became the castle mouser, and Richard told Garrick that the child would make a great general in the king’s army one day.

But then there were more cats—kittens, since Joan was with child. The blasted cat had five kittens. He found one of the men carrying one of the wee beasties with him as he walked the battlements.

The horse snorted, pawing the ground, as a man ran toward Richard, chased by three men.

The men stopped upon seeing him, crossed themselves, and, he imagined, swore heartily at the loss of their prey.

As the man drew nigh, Richard urged the horse forward. ’Twas not a man but a woman dressed in strange hose. The woman called out but was too far away for him to make out the words. Almost to her, he saw her fall.

He reined the horse in and leaned over. “Take my hand, woman.” He reached out as she got to her feet. “Mistress. Come quickly—there may be more men.”

She took his arm. Richard swung her up behind him and turned his horse to face the men.

“She is ours. We found her. Give her back,” one of the men shouted.

Richard looked out from under the ever-present hood. “You dare to face the Beast of Bainford? Come then, let me drag you to hell.” He wielded his sword, the muscles in his arm flexing as he ignored the gasp behind him. The men turned and fled.

From behind, Richard heard her teeth chattering. “You’re…you’re the beast?”

“Aye.”

The woman tried to see around his back, but he held her firm. “Nay, mistress. I would not wish you to fall.”

He could smell the fear rolling off her. “I ask for sanctuary.” The words were soft in the still air.

She was a brave lass to ask for shelter, knowing his reputation.

“Where is your escort?”

“It’s a really long story, and I’m really cold and tired.”

The words sounded different when she spoke them, softer, sweet to his ears. She was no noble, nor was she from anywhere he knew. For the first time in a long while, Richard found himself curious. He would see her settled in the chair by the fire and find out what had brought the lass to his gates.

Chloe couldn’t believe her luck. This was the beast she’d heard so much about? On the horse, he looked like a knight straight out of a fairy tale. The only thing missing was the suit of shining armor.

He was strong enough to swing her up on the horse with one arm and wasn’t even breathing heavily. She’d caught a glimpse of black fabric covering one eye, half of his face hidden by the hood of his cloak. The guy radiated warmth like an electric blanket turned to high, and she pressed against him, trying to get warm. If he would have said one rude thing, she would have said she was trying not to fall off the horse. The guy was solid as the stone walls in front of them.

It was a real, living, breathing castle. There was a tall wall with arrow slits for defense, and some of the construction looked new, as if large sections of the wall had fallen down and been repaired. They came to a drawbridge that also looked new, the horse’s hooves clattering as the animal sped up, anxious to eat his dinner.

Her stomach rumbled. There was dark water, almost black, partially frozen, surrounding the castle. Chloe hoped the human waste didn’t end up in there. If it did, everyone would probably get E.coli or something else disgusting. As she was sniffing to see if the water smelled like sewage, a fish jumped out in the middle where the water wasn’t yet frozen, and she laughed at how silly she was acting. Obviously this was a moat used to stock fish for the castle, so it wouldn’t have sewage in it. The garderobe waste would go into barrels that would be emptied somewhere else…if what her granda had told her held true.

“You find my home amusing?” he rumbled.

“I wasn’t laughing at your home. It’s fierce and forbidding. I was laughing at the little fish jumping. He looked as cold as I feel.”

“The moat supplies us with plenty of fish to eat. He is used to the water. But you, mistress, are shivering enough to make me cold. Soon you will be warm.”

Then the man chuckled, a rusty-sounding noise, like he didn’t laugh much. “I will feed you. I hear how hungry you are—’tis a wonder I can hear over the noise.”

Had the scary beast just made a joke? “Very funny. But you’re right. I’m starved. I missed breakfast and lunch.” No, Chloe corrected herself—she hated when other people got all judgey, so she’d wait and see before she called him a beast. Right now, he was a lot less scary than the rest of the men she’d encountered so far.

When they rode under the portcullis and were moving through the long stone tunnel, she heard the change in his breathing, could feel the tension in his body where she had wrapped her arms around him to keep from falling off the horse.

“Are you okay?”

“I do not care for small spaces,” he said, stiffening in the saddle.

“This tunnel is a lot bigger than an elevator. I have a friend who is claustrophobic. Once she got stuck in a crowded elevator for three hours. She refuses to ride in an elevator to this day. Takes the stairs everywhere.” Sara Beth had been almost catatonic when the fire department had finally rescued her. She didn’t even like riding in small cars, but made an exception for the red MG if the top was down. “On the plus side, she has killer legs from all the stairs.”

“What is ‘okay’? What is an elevator?”

Oops. Chloe had to be more careful.

“Never mind,” she mumbled, thinking about all the things and words she’d have to remove from her vocabulary. You didn’t think about when words came into usage until they were questioned. Try and talk like Granda does sometimes. Kinda old-fashioned and formal should do it.

“What is your name, mistress?”

“I’m sorry. I was so busy being thankful you rescued me that I totally— I mean, I must have forgotten to tell you my name. I am Chloe Merriweather.”

They rode through the grounds, her head on a swivel as she took in the blacksmith, a chapel, a long, low building, stables, and a few other rickety-looking structures. There were what she guessed were servants, going to and fro, and men fighting in an area she knew was called the lists. No one seemed particularly bothered by the snow or the cold.

“I am Richard. Lord Bainford.”

So he was the beast. It was almost a bit disappointing. She’d been expecting something more along the lines of Beauty and the Beast than a cranky pirate knight.