It was late afternoon by the time the carriage stopped at the entry gate. The sun had dipped below the tops of the trees surrounding the estate and lit them all in a fiery radiance. Belle hesitated, taking in the view until Lumiere appeared in the doorway looking rather annoyed by her lingering behind.
"If you're rather keen on freezing yourself, I could show you to the back garden," he said dryly.
"I would love that," Belle replied, ignoring his sarcasm but she did wonder why he seemed to not like her.
"The quickest way is through the ballroom." He gestured for her to follow and led her silently through the entryway his long, skinny nose held high. Belle's eyes widened as they entered. The spherical room was massive and their footsteps echoed around the cavernous space. A soaring balcony wrapped half the room with continuous high arched windows and the walls were dressed in a golden wallpaper that shined in the light of the setting sun.
Belle walked slowly, her eyes finding the brilliant sunlit chandelier that dominated the center of the room. There seemed to be no space in the castle she'd entered that didn't stop her in amazement.
"Madam, if you would please," Lumiere huffed and continued towards a set of floor-to-ceiling windows centered between the two balcony staircases. What looked like a maze of boxwood shrubs encompassed the view beyond.
Belle stepped through the glass doorway, still clutching her book. This would be a great place to read once the weather grew warmer. She thought, already forgetting the maître d' who stood behind her.
"If you would be so kind as to not let Otto inside with dirty paws," he said and made to shut the door before pushing it open once again. "And the duke has requested your presence at dinner within the hour." This time he closed the door, ignoring Belle's stricken look.
Surely, she'd have time to do some exploring before having to dress for dinner. And who was Otto? She thought. She had no clue there had been a dog on the grounds. Well, maybe it was a cat, she considered as she hurried down the steps and into the path of shrubbery.
The greenery grew a head taller than herself and was in fact a maze. Belle worked to recall her steps in case she became lost. A right, a left, a dead end, two more rights, and two lefts followed by another dead end. Her toes were wet and already growing quite cold. Would she get so lost that she wouldn't be able to find her way out?
"Calm down," she tried to tell herself, but the sky had begun to grow dark. Panic began to set in, and she hurried back the way she had come but found herself confused and not at the beginning as she had expected. The world around her spun and her breath quickened. She'd not lose herself out here. It was just a garden maze after all. She thought, fighting the darkness growing from her periphery.
A sudden bark pulled her from her distress, and she took a few wavering steps forward. Determined to find her way out, she continued toward the sound of crunching snow. Another bark. She knew she was getting closer as the thudding of paws bounded toward her. Rounding the corner, a large mop of a dog ran to greet her. His heavy tail wagged and slapped at the snowy ground.
"You must be Otto," she said, bending to scratch his ears. "Think you could lead me out?" she asked and the dog shot down the path as though he'd understood. Belle ran after him, breathless when she finally reached the end of the maze.
Yet another scene to stop her in its beauty, she thought looking out over the garden. A huge still fountain brimming with snow and surrounded by alternating benches and rhododendrons dominated much of the space. Various statues bordered the area. Fairies sat on pedestals, peacocks spanned their feathers and to Belle's relief, there were no griffins or gargoyles to be seen.
Otto ran to find a stick and hurried back to Belle. She had to struggle briefly before the dog relented and she tossed it for him to retrieve. They repeated the tussle several times when Belle heard the chiming of the clock tower. She was late. Dropping the stick, she hurried up the nearest steps and burst through the doors that led into the dining room. She froze, door held open, mouth agape. Why hadn't she remembered the set of doors in the dining room?
"Madam," Lumiere said not attempting to hide his aversion as he pulled out a chair at the end of the table. But Belle couldn't bring herself to move. The duke sat opposite Lumiere, reclining with one leg propped over the other. His dark suit, trimmed in a golden thread fit snuggly to his wide frame. He appeared relaxed, seemingly unbothered but his dark piercing eyes traveled the length of her and she became unbearably aware of how heavy and wet the hem of her dress had become.
Wordlessly, he gestured for her to sit but never rose to stand in her presence.
"It's incredibly impolite to be late for dinner," he said at last. His words stung though he'd said them with little bite.
"I apologize," Belle said, making her way toward the table, the door slipping open when the handle failed to catch. With a resounding bark, Otto burst bounded through and ran at once to the duke, wagging his tail furiously.
"Madam!" Lumiere cried and stormed over as Otto shook out his wet fur. Dirty water spattered the maître d's shoes and the surrounding floor. Lumiere's angry eyes shot toward her.
Belle was mortified as she sat down heavily into the seat. "I'm so sorry," she stammered picking at the spine of the book before setting it down beside her.
"That's quite enough," the duke said but Belle couldn't be sure who spoke to.
"Lumiere, please take Otto to Chip for bathing. Housekeeping can tend to the floor after dinner," he added, fluffing the dog's crown with a hand that nearly engulfed its head.
"Lumiere had warned me not to let him in," Belle said, pulling the duke's gaze back toward her. He seemed a much greater influence sitting there across from her than he had that morning in the hallway.
"Do you usually ignore time obligations?" he asked, turning Belle's stomach to knots. Thus far, he hadn't been callous as the rumors suggested, but he certainly wasn't considerate either. He also didn't seem as old as she thought he'd be. His full beard was streaked with tufts of red and a few almost imperceptible strands of silver naturally defined his age, but his eyes suggested a youthfulness that she hadn't expected.
"I was lost in the maze—" she started, but Ms. Garder rushed in cutting her off.
"I've looked everywhere, your grace," she said through heavy breaths.
"All is well." He assured her just as Ms. Garder looked toward Belle. Her face flushed with relief but quickly turned to frustration. Belle tried to look apologetic but wasn't sure in her distress how she might appear.
"Very well," Ms. Garder sighed and left just as the kitchen doors swung open and Lumiere came through, followed again by the two servants. Each carried small, covered trays.
"I apologize for my tardiness. It took a bit to find young Chip." Lumiere said as he filled each of their goblets in turn. He gave Belle a sour look before stepping away.
"Lumeiere, leave us to chat in private," the duke said not taking his eyes from Belle as he dismissed them.
Belle felt her face flush. She hated the lingering looks of the two servants, but being alone with the duke was far worse than their judgment.
"I understand your family was once wealthy," he said after the room had cleared.
Belle nodded.
"You seem to have forgotten many of the constraints that go along with being affluent. I'd hoped that wasn't going to be the case." He added.
Belle scoffed, her irritation mounting. How dare he judge her on this one mistake, she thought. She opened her mouth to disagree, but he continued.
"Being a duchess will be far tougher than simply being of Villeneuve's upper class. I expect you will spend your time learning the duties of a duchess, especially since you are so young."
"I'm not that young." Belle spat, expecting the duke to react. He didn't.
"Do you like huitres?" he asked, leaning forward and removing the cover from his tray carrying on as though he hadn't just insulted her or misjudged her.
Belle stared at him for a moment before following suit. A beautiful, oddly shaped plate held several half-shells filled with grey, slimy oysters. Belle had indeed never had them and didn't intend to, looking down at them with disgust.
"I take that as a no?" He asked, taking a spoon of the taupe-colored sauce in the middle and dropping it onto the oyster.
Belle grimaced as he lifted the shell and tipped it into his mouth.
"You must try at least one. They will be served quite often," he said before bringing another to his lips.
She pushed them away and he shrugged at her, eating quietly for a few moments before the servants entered with two more small trays.
"We have skipped the second course, per your request," one of them said, as she placed the tray before him.
"I have other matters to attend to tonight, so I hope you weren't expecting a full course." He smiled ambiguously when she stared across at him. "Are venison and potatoes acceptable?" he asked as the servants removed their lids and hurried away giving them their privacy once more.
At this, Belle nodded, though still irritated with his treatment of her and considering if she should try and rectify the situation. She looked down at her plate and picked at her food. She could feel him eye her, but he didn't speak. Had she used the wrong fork? She wondered, trying not to meet his gaze. The silence was deafening. The longer neither spoke the more she felt the urge to fill the quiet.
"How long have you been unmarried?" Belle finally asked, rallying herself enough to speak. She looked up when he didn't respond and could see his countenance visibly darken.
"Excuse me, your grace," Cogsworth said entering the room. "Madam Bardot has sent a request to meet with you and the future duchess at your earliest convenience."
The duke's demeanor did not change but instead seemed to darken further. "There is no need," he said before taking a long drink of his wine.
Belle mirrored his response, suddenly feeling rather parched.
"Sir, do you mean to say the proposal is called off?"
Belle stiffened, her brain racing to understand what she had done that would warrant an end to their agreement.
"No, Cogsworth," the duke said. "I mean only that there will be no ceremony."
"You can't be serious?" Cogsworth sputtered. "It's necessary."
"It's merely a song and dance," the duke growled. "Nothing more. The same result could be achieved with the signing of papers. Simply notify the civil authority that his presence is needed."
Belle balked at his response. She hadn't at any point wanted to marry this man, but now she was being denied the one thing she and her sisters had talked of and dreamed about for countless hours. Though they too had cried the day she'd left, they had expressed their happiness at possibly seeing her walk down the aisle in a beautiful gown.
The duke gave her a sideways glance but seemed to care little of her disagreement. "Notify the man and do not bother me with talk of such insignificant matters again."
"Also, Cogsworth," he called, stopping the man as he turned to leave. Could you notify Mr. Tremblay that payment will soon be sent?"
"Yes, your grace," Cogsworth said and left them in a long silence.
The quiet minutes seemed to drag on before the duke finally spoke. "I have informed the wait staff that I would not be taking dessert, but something has been prepared if you would like to do so," he said, dabbing his mouth and tossing his napkin onto his plate. He stood, his tall stature commanding attention, and took his glass, disappearing through the door behind her.
That went well. Belle thought with a long sigh.
Note: Link for how I picture the duke in profile!