Free Bella and the Beast by Olivia Drake

Oxford under the care of a neighbor. She had spent the night in London in a room large enough to swallow her entire cottage.
    Approaching the canopied bed, the figure materialized into a sturdy, brown-eyed girl with a freckled face and red hair that peeped out from beneath her white mobcap. She wore a crisply ironed apron over her black gown.
    â€œâ€™Tis a fine morning, indeed,” she said, bobbing a curtsy. “Mrs. Witheridge said ye was to be awakened at the dot o’ seven. So’s ye can be ready to help the duke.”
    Aylwin! Bella was to meet with him for instructions at nine o’clock.
    A buzz of excitement jolted her fully awake. Her plan had worked. She had convinced the duke to employ her. And today, if the opportunity presented itself, she could start her search for the missing treasure map.
    She sat up and threw back the covers. “Thank you ever so much for the reminder. Pray, what is your name?”
    â€œâ€™Tis Nan. I’m to be yer maidservant.”
    â€œMy servant? Why?”
    â€œI’m to help ye ready yerself. I brung yer gown and hot water for washin’. ’Tis in the dressin’ chamber.”
    Bella swung her feet out of bed and shivered from the chill in the air. Though it was late May, the huge room held the night cold. “But I’m in the duke’s employ. Doesn’t that make me a servant, too?”
    â€œI dunno about that, miss,” Nan said doubtfully. “Yer a lady and Mrs. Witheridge bade me wait on ye.” She scurried to fetch a pair of slippers from the floor. Bending down to slip them onto Bella’s feet, she gasped. “Oh! Yer legs!”
    Bella realized that the tattoos were visible beneath her nightdress. She scrambled quickly out of bed, but the hem of her nightgown was a bit too short to hide the marks. Ruefully, she looked down and surveyed the inked patterns just above her ankles. “They’re rather unsightly, I’m afraid. The designs were placed there by my native nursemaid when I was a little girl visiting in Egypt.”
    Nan’s eyes were wide as saucers as she took another peek at the tattoos. “Cor! Did it hurt? Was there needles used?”
    â€œTo be honest, I don’t remember. I was too young.”
    â€œWell!” Nan exclaimed, helping Bella into her old green wrap. “Them marks took me by surprise, they did. But I daresay they’re handsome. Like bracelets round yer ankles.”
    The words warmed Bella’s heart. “That’s kind of you to say so.”
    Nan didn’t smile back; instead, her coppery eyebrows lowered in a troubled look. “Mr. Hasani has such a mark, too, on the back of his neck. But that one gives me a fright, it does.”
    â€œWho is Mr. Hasani?”
    â€œThe master’s valet. He’s a foreigner from Egypt.” She glanced around as if the walls had ears and continued in a lowered tone, “ His mark looks like an eye … an eye watching ye from the back of his head.”
    Bella’s skin prickled. “Don’t be silly. No one can see out of a tattooed eye.”
    â€œIf ye say so, miss.”
    But Nan looked unconvinced. As the maid knelt by the hearth to clean out the ashes, Bella headed into the dressing chamber to perform her morning ablutions. How interesting to learn that Aylwin had a manservant from Egypt. She hoped to meet the fellow, to see the tattoo that had so alarmed the maid. She herself didn’t believe for a moment that it had supernatural properties. Just as she knew that her own skin markings lacked the power to ward off disease. After all, she’d had her share of minor illnesses.
    Standing at the washstand while splashing water on her face, Bella had a vivid memory of the duke explaining to her the significance of those symbols. He had caressed the marks with his fingertips. He had bent his head close to her leg, so close that his warm breath had feathered over her skin. The mere