Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
The smell of fresh air couldn’t soothe Laurent, nor did the last of the beautiful sunshine. In a few days, he would hang for the murder of William Fane, and there was nothing he could do to convince his jailers that he had been acting in self-defense once Fane’s housekeeper took away Marcel’s arm to hide her master's terrible secret.
The only notes he’d ever found on the matter of his hanging were vague, but they spoke volumes even if he’d never found the exact date of the execution. He’d been held in jail, was now being transported to another one, and would soon hang.
The wait was worse than death itself, which, as gruesome a perspective as it was, would be a brief affair.
The trees whispered softly above his head as the wagon rolled down the narrow road through the woods, letting Laurent breathe the scent of plant life freely for what likely was the last time. The cold air was a shock after spending the summer with Beast, but it was April here in 1805, and he carefully closed the coat around his aching body.
The servants in Fane’s house had at first locked him in, then several of the young men of the household came by to pay their respects with fists. No matter how cruel, Fane had been their employer, and with no known heir to the estate, the future of everyone working there now hung on a loose thread.
Laurent pressed the cool back of his hand against the swollen skin on his jaw. He could only hope that by the time he faced the crowds gathered for his execution in Portland, he’d still have all his teeth. Even before he stood before the jury in Brecon, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he would die for having the audacity to fight for his life at all cost. With no capital to hire a decent lawyer, an indentured servant with no family to stand by him, he was utterly alone in his misery and could not count on anyone’s protection.
“You seen his face?” One of the men said as if Laurent wasn’t there to hear him. “He’s got some bruises, but his lips are still plump. I will put them to good use tonight.”
Laurent’s hairs bristled, and his eyes widened as the two men laughed. Would there be no end to his indignity? Was this really the price he had to pay for defending himself? Or was it a price he was paying for having made a deal with the devil in the first place?
He curled his shoulders and lowered his head in a useless attempt to become invisible.
The man on the horse slammed his walking stick against the bars of the wooden cage, startling Laurent into looking back at him. “Cat got your tongue? Be nice, and maybe we’ll feed you something besides stale bread.”
Talk of food only reminded Laurent just how hungry he was. He glanced back at the man, finding it hard to gather his words. He’d gotten so used to living in a world where a giant man loved him and always had his back, but if he had to exchange his life for Beast’s then so be it.
“May I please have some water?”
The two guards looked at one another. The one on the horse took a water bag attached to the saddle and sipped from it before putting it back where it belonged. “It’s hot. You’ll need to make do ‘til we stop for the night.”
Laurent sighed loudly and leaned his head against the thick wooden bars. All he had to console himself was the knowledge that his beloved had a chance at fighting for his life. And he surely defeated King or left. Beast was smarter and stronger than his cruel father.
A sob tore out of Laurent’s throat all of a sudden when he remembered the Dante quote inked over Beast’s forearm. “There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery.” Laurent would never again feel the joy that overflowed in the heart when the man he loved smiled at him.
It took the men two seconds to burst out laughing, and the stick now poked at Laurent’s shoulder, teasing him as if he were a wild animal, taken away from its home to serve as amusement to a cruel mob.
“Look at that. He really is a girl on the inside.”
Every piece of Laurent wanted to lash out at them, yell that they didn’t know where he’d been, and what he’d needed to do, but even though death awaited him at the end of the road, he didn’t want to be beaten again. And if these men chose to, they could break each bone in his body.
He rubbed his eyes and pushed at the stick without much conviction.