Page 57 of Beauty's Beast

He had to see her just one more time, had to know that she would be well and truly cared for. How many times, he mused ruefully, how many times had he promised himself just one more time? But this would have to be the last.

Heavy-hearted, he swung into the saddle and started for home.

“Gone? What do you mean, she’s gone? Gone where?”

“I don’t know, my lord.” Mrs. Grainger took a step backward, alarmed by the rage blazing in Trevayne’s eyes. “Brandt was the last to see her. He said she went riding day before yesterday. She never came back. I sent Gilbert to the lodge to tell you, but there was no one there.” She twisted her apron in her hands. “I’m sorry, my lord. We’ve looked everywhere.”

“She didn’t say anything to anyone?”

“No one here, my lord.”

Had he driven her away, then, frightened her so badly with his monstrous appearance that she had fled Hawksbridge? She had no family, no friends. Where would she go?

“My lord?”

“What is it?”

“She went to see your mother.”

“What? When?”

“The day before she disappeared. She asked me how far it was to the convent at St. Clair. I never dreamed she would go there alone.”

He was gone from the room before the woman finished speaking.

Outside, he swung onto the stallion’s back and urged the weary horse into a gallop. His mother! Why had Kristine gone to see his mother?

The convent was locked up tight when he arrived. Refusing to be thwarted, he rang the bell, then pounded on the heavy wooden door until someone came to answer it.

A woman peered at him through a small barred window cut into the door. “Yes?”

He turned so that his left side was hidden in the darkness. “I must see Lady Trevayne.”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but everyone is asleep. Come back tomorrow.”

“I cannot wait until tomorrow.”

“I am sorry, my lord.”

“I’m her son. I’m sure she will see me.”

“I am sorry, my lord,” the nun repeated firmly, “but no one is allowed inside the convent after dark.” And with that, she closed the portal.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to smother the rage that bubbled up inside him, to keep from breaking down the door.

Wrestling with the beast struggling to break free inside him, he whirled away from the door and strode into the night.

He was at the convent door early the following morning. A different nun answered the bell.

“I need to see Lady Trevayne,” he said. “It’s urgent.”

“She is just now breaking her fast.”

He clenched his hands. “I’m her son. I’m sure she would wish to see me.”

“Very well.” The nun took a step backward, her eyes widening as she got a clear glimpse of his mask. “Just wait in there.” She gestured to a door on her left, then hurried down the corridor.

Erik entered the room she had indicated. It was a sitting room of sorts, with a fireplace, a sofa covered in a dark fabric, a low table, and several chairs. He assumed it was here that the nuns visited with family and friends.

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