Beauty and the Beastly Highlander by Kenna Kendrick
Chapter One
“Cursed,” he whispered.
“Aye. Bedeviled for sure,” the other man whispered in reply.
Stifling her emotions, Olivia walked along the corridor with the hood of her cloak pulled low around her, trying to hide in the darkness. She felt the eyes of the guardsmen on her as she walked by them. They didn’t even bother trying to hide their contempt. Some seemed to have become emboldened, more willing to speak out, and openly sneered at her after the death of her parents.
She turned a corner and felt her heart lurch as she pulled up short. Three of the household’s chambermaids stood clustered together—two of them she didn’t know. But they stood, heads bowed together, whispering to one another. They stopped and turned when they saw Olivia. She swallowed hard, knowing the only way to the gardens was to walk past them. As Olivia passed by, they bowed their heads and fell silent, allowing their gazes to fall to the ground, as was proper.
She said not a word as she passed, but when she turned the corner, she stopped and pressed her back against the wall, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm her racing heart. Then, just before she was about to continue on her way, she heard their whispered voices.
“See? Didn’t I tell you? Did you see the mark?” said the one chambermaid she knew—Catherine. “She’s a monster, just like I said.”
“It is certainly unsightly, to be sure,” replied one of the others. “But I don’t think that makes her a monster.”
“Of course it does,” Catherine pressed. “No man is ever goin’ to want to be with her. Not with that kind of a mark on her.”
“You never know. There could be a man out there who can see past that,” replied the other girl. “She could find a man who loves her for who she is.”
Catherine and the girl with the Irish brogue laughed together like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. It made Olivia’s heart feel tight and difficult to breathe. The pain that shot through her was so deep, it made her knees feel weak. It was an effort for Olivia to remain standing.
“No man is going to want her,” Catherine said. “Not only is that mark unsightly, but it’s proof that she’s cursed.”
Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes. She knew she should walk away and stop listening to the three women gossiping, but she couldn’t make herself move. She’d heard their cruel words many times before. She’d hoped that in time, she’d develop a thicker skin, and she wouldn’t let them cut her so deeply.
But no matter how much time passed and how many times she heard those words, they never failed to hit her hard - every single time. The pain they caused her had never diminished in all the years she’d heard them.
“Aye. ‘tis true. She’s goin’ tae live a life filled with thae worst luck imaginable,” agreed the Irishwoman. “Look at what happened tae her parents. ‘tis because of her. She’s cursed.”
“It’s true,” Catherine said. “And do you believe any noble lord is going to want to take that sort of cursed, unsightly woman into his household?”
The pressure building inside of Olivia finally boiled over, and her body reacted without meaning to. With tears streaming down her face, hot with shame and humiliation, Olivia stepped back out into the corridor and glared at the three women malevolently.
“Unless you three wish for something terrible to befall you, I’d suggest you stop with your gossipmongering, keep a civil tongue and go about your work,” Olivia said, surprised by how cold her voice was. “Now. Go. Before I lose my temper and something unfortunate happens to all three of you.”
The three women looked at her with the same stricken expression, their faces blanching. Olivia knew she should not be berating them in that way. She was no longer the Duke’s daughter, and this was no longer her household. But the hurt and anger inside of her were so great, she could not contain herself. Giving them a final withering glare that sent them scampering, Olivia was left alone in the corridor. And as the tears continued to flow, she turned and fled, running for the secret passage that would take her out to the gardens.
The garden was the only place in the world where she felt comfortable. Where she could simply be herself. Now that her Uncle had moved into the family castle, it no longer felt like home. Yet, the garden was the only place that remained untouched and where she could still feel her parents. Sitting in the garden her father had created for her mother made her feel close to them. It was the only place in the world where she felt happy.
It allowed her to forget the morbidly curious looks and whispered insults that were a staple of her life. It allowed her to shut out conversations like the one she’d just overheard. She could never escape them. Wherever she went, people would stare at her. Or rather, stare at her disfigurement. It was why people whispered behind their hands about her being cursed and bedeviled. That was why they blamed her for the death of her parents.
And it was why, having seen twenty-four summers already, that she had no suitors – and likely would never have. No man in his right mind would ask for her hand. Not even with her handsome dowry. As a little girl, Olivia had been too naïve to realize how terribly her mark would handicap her life. She believed she would marry a handsome prince and live a life filled with love and joy. But, time had taught her that was not her lot in life. Now she knew that love and happiness were not in the cards.
A lone tear spilled from the corner of her eye, and Olivia wiped it away angrily. She crawled to the edge of the small pond on her hands and knees. Pulling back her hood, she leaned over the edge, peering at her reflection on the surface of the water. Her hair, black as a raven’s wing, framed a pale face, and her hazel-colored eyes glimmered like gold in the sunlight. She raised her hand and touched her right cheek. It was smooth and unblemished.
But then she turned her head to gaze at her right cheek, at her disfigurement. Olivia trailed the tips of her fingers across the wine-colored mark that marred her right cheek. The blemish ran from the corner of her mouth to her eye and from nose to ear. It took up most of the left side of her face and was why she kept her face hidden beneath a hood and stayed away from people. She hated that the mark was the only thing people stared at. As a consequence, when she looked at herself, it was the only thing she could see.
