Disclaimer: I do not own BatB or its characters.

Belle did her best to put on an air of a happy, devoted wife in the beginning, at least while in public. For any hint that she would rather be somewhere else other than with Gaston earned her a deadly stare from her husband.

While in the tavern, she would sit beside Gaston, smiling. Just two days after the wedding, they were in the tavern when Le Fou came up to them.

"Gee Gaston," the short man said. "She finally agreed to marry you, and seems happy, huh?"

"Yep," Gaston said in his cocky manner. "Took a little while, but she has finally come to her senses and realized that there's no one better to be her husband than me! Right Belle?"

Belle wanted to throw up. When she took longer to respond than Gaston found to his tastes, he gave her a stern look.

"Right, Belle?" he repeated.

"Right."

"Good girl," Gaston said, patting her on the head like he would one of his hunting dogs. He turned back to Le Fou, and the villagers who were watching. "She's coming along nicely. Still has a bit of learning to do for her to know her place, but she's getting there."

At home, though, Belle still held fast to her stubbornness. Sure, she didn't put up much of a fight when it came to cooking and cleaning. Heck, she did that when living with her father, so that wasn't much of a change. But there were instances in which she would hold her ground. Such as her refusal to sleep in the marital bed, preferring the couch. Certainly, getting close enough to give Gaston the 'strapping boys' he indicated that he wanted in his original marriage proposal was out of the question. She held her ground even though this earned her a nightly slap from Gaston, and a looming threat.

"You know Belle, I could force the issue. And if you keep rebuffing me, I will."

Well, he'll just have to force it, Belle thought. Either physically, or by threatening those that I love. No way am I willingly going to do it with him.

The next day, Gaston went hunting, leaving Belle alone at the house. Lumiere took this opportunity to come out of his hiding place.

"How are you doing?" he asked sympathetically.

"It's hard," Belle said. "I'm holding my own, for now. But he does seem to know how to force things. I mean...in the tavern...I have to pretend to be happy or he'll look at me as if he's going to hit me if I don't shape up. And he does here at home, when I do hold my ground. I don't know how long I can keep this up."

"I know," Lumiere said. "I see pretty much everything, either in hiding here, or watching in the mirror. But you're strong, Belle, you have a dignity about you, a certain pride, that I don't think Gaston can strip from you."

"I don't know, Lumiere," Belle said, discouraged. "I keep hoping for the best...but...this is Gaston we're talking about."

"Perhaps this might cheer you up," Lumiere said, hopping over to his hiding place, grabbing something in his candleholder hands, and hoping back over to Belle. It was a book. "I got this at your old home. I thought you'd like it, since there doesn't seem to be a single book around here."

"Thank you, Lumiere," Belle said, with the first genuine smile that crept across her face in days. She took the book. "But there is a reason why there are no books here. Gaston, well, the whole town really...nobody thinks a woman should read. And Gaston won't have any wife of his reading."

"But...but..." Lumiere said, at a loss for words.

"I know. He says women who read start getting ideas, and thinking. It's positively primeval."

"He...won't allow you to read?"

"Well," Belle said, her stubbornness showing. "He'll have a struggle on his hands. Thank you for bringing it, Lumiere."

Later that evening, Gaston came through the door with the carcasses of two geese he'd already prepared for cooking.

"I hope you're ready to start cooking, Belle," he said. Because I have these lovely geese for us."

"Oh how nice," Belle said, pretending to be delighted by his catch. "I'll get to that right away."

It was then Gaston noticed the book sitting on the table.

"Belle," he said menacingly. "What's that?"

"It's a book, Gaston," Belle said. "What's it look like?"

"It does look like a book," he said. "But I thought for sure it had to be something else. After all, you certainly wouldn't be reading a book, now that you're a devoted housewife with duties to perform."

"Oh but I would," Belle said firmly. "Especially if I have all my chores done and have some downtime. I've had plenty of time to read."

Gaston picked up the book and studied it for a moment.

"And where, pray tell, did you get this?"

Belle thought quickly. Obviously, she couldn't divulge Lumiere's existence. She settled on a partial truth.

"From my old house, where I lived with my father," she said.

"Well, Belle," Gaston said. "You're never to leave this house again without permission. Especially to go get books." He slapped her across the face. "And as for this book...well, the fire does look like it could use some more fuel, doesn't it?"

"Gaston...NO!"

But Belle's plea was wasted as Gaston threw her book into the fire. She fell to her knees sobbing. Gaston walked over to her, and, in mock concern, helped her to her feet.

"Now, Belle," he said. "A tearstained face is not a pretty one. I'll not have my wife with a less than perfect face. Now, stop your crying, go get that face of yours cleaned up, and come out and prepare dinner."

"Yes, sir," Belle said. Just a little bit more of her strong spirit was fading.