Page 1 of Of Curses and Beauty

Chapter 1

Alaine

Alainefeltthestaresof those around her like rays of sunlight as she strolled through her quaint village. She could bask in the warm caress of a few, but the eyes of many quickly turned to burning glares that chafed her skin, making her uncomfortable despite the crisp, autumn breeze. Hoping to stave off the worst, she gathered the edges of her cloak to her chest and buried her face deeper into the book she was reading.

It was, therefore, the fault of the gawking townspeople—and definitely not her preoccupation with reading—that led her to collide with the last person she ever wanted to see.

Lord Henrik Baxter’s meaty hands had already reached out to steady her before Alaine recovered from the interruption. With all the grace of a startled chicken, she jumped out of his grasp, tripping on her skirts in her haste to avoid his touch. She hit the ground with a thud that she heard as much as felt, the sudden impact sending a shock up her spine that left her momentarily stunned.

As luck would have it, her temporary immobility provided ample time for Baxter to scoop her up, his hands taking too many liberties in his attempts to dust the dirt off of her.

Alaine had been far too young when she started to capture the attention of the men in her village. Her father called her beautiful with a smile that implied it was a blessing, but the women around town spat it behind her back like the curse that it was. In no time, she’d become simultaneously desirable and unwanted.

Men coveted her, but she had no friends; those she’d grown up with having shunned her when she needed them most. Even at home, she was not so naive to miss the green tinge of jealousy that had crept into her own mother’s eyes whenever she looked her way.

It was a surreal experience to be a child one day and a woman the next. It seemed, at least to Alaine, that her body had made that leap before the rest of her, forcing her into a role with consequences for which she hadn’t been prepared.

Surreptitious glances had turned into hungry stares. Casual touches had become statements of possession. Men flocked to her door, but no one stood by her side.

She was to be seen and not heard. Beautifully silent. An accessory and nothing more.

Aprize.

Thinking about the number of times she’d been told to smile made her blood boil.

Now that she was officiallyof age—an arbitrary age that was surely determined by men, if for no other reason than because nothing in the world was ever determined by women—Alaine found herself constantly fending off offers of courtship and marriage proposals. Many of which were from Lord Henrik Baxter himself.

“Ms. Martan, you really must be more careful,” Baxter spoke to her décolletage, ignoring all pretense of eye contact as she disentangled herself from his roaming hands.

Alaine bent down to retrieve her book that had fallen after the impact. The cover had been dirtied, but none of the pages appeared damaged as she flipped through them. She took her time assessing the condition of the book until it was clear that Baxter had no intention of moving on without acknowledgment from her.

A sigh of frustration escaped her as she straightened, smoothing down her skirts and returning the book to its position as a protective barrier against her chest. Her eyes lifted to find Baxter’s cold blue gaze fixated on her. The hunger reflected there made her take an involuntary step back.

She angled her head and dipped into a curtsy in an effort to cover her hasty retreat. “Your pardon, Lord Baxter. I’m afraid I didn’t see you there.”

One corner of his mouth tipped up in an infuriating smirk. “No, Ms. Martan,” he said, glancing pointedly at her book, “I suppose you wouldn’t have. Bit of a hazardous hobby you’ve got there.”

Alaine forced her lips to form a smile. If it more closely resembled a grimace, Baxter did not comment.

She’d heard many of the women in town tittering about Lord Baxter’s supposed good looks. She suspected if you knew nothing about the man within, his facial symmetry and healthy physique would qualify for what most consider attractive. And yes, his nearly black hair and blue eyes were rare enough to be considered special in their small town. That, combined with the wealth of his family’s estate, made him one of the most desirable bachelors in the village.

But it would take more than money and looks to win her hand. Alaine knew she was just another trophy for him to collect. Unfortunately, her refusals only served to entice this hunter further.

“I have spoken to your father.” His hushed tone suggested his proposals were not public knowledge.

“He did mention that, as I recall,” Alaine hedged. Baxter would have numerous reasons for speaking with her father, who was the most celebrated jeweler in town. Though she knew he referred to his most recent offer of marriage, she preferred to be wildly indirect when it came to discussing such matters.

“Yes, well,” Baxter stepped closer, casting furtive glances as though we were discussing war crimes and not marriage. “He implied thatyouare to have the final say in your betrothal.“ His accompanying sneer told her all she needed to know about his opinion on the matter.

“Oh yes, indeed.” She nodded fervently and placed the back of her hand against her brow. “I don’t know how I shall ever endeavor to make such an important decision with my simple, feminine brain. What’s a poor girl to do without a man to decide her life choices?” She didn’t attempt to mask the sarcasm that dripped off every word.

For a moment, nothing but the wind passed between them. The evidence of her fierce spirit always gave him pause. He hated it, viewing her strong will as her one and only flaw. She could see it in his eyes, the way he wanted to break it—breakher—and mold her into something more pliable.

As seconds became minutes of stilted silence, she assumed their discussion concluded and moved to step around Lord Baxter, only for him to sidestep directly into her path. She drew up short but refused to back down, craning her neck to meet his penetrating gaze with one of her own.

“Is it your lack of dowry which causes your resistance?” he asked. Though his tone hinted at curiosity, the words were intended to humiliate her. Recent difficulties had hit her family hard, and it was common knowledge that she’d be wed with little in the way of a dowry to offer her husband. “My family’s lands provide well enough for me to forfeit my right to a dowry if it will sway your mind.”

“I shall take that into consideration, Lord Baxter. Good day.” She gave him a closed-lip smile but knew it didn’t reach her eyes. Alaine had just about reached the limits of her propriety when she moved to leave a second time.

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