Read Online Beauty and the Beast by Wendy Mass - Free Book Online

Handsome with suspicion.
    â€œHe is the baker’s apprentice. And my new friend.”
    She tilts her head at me in a way that clearly says she does not believe me. I sigh. “Truly, Clarissa. I can make a friend on my own, you know.”
    â€œSince when?” she asks.
    â€œThat is enough, girls,” Papa says. He puts out his hand. “I am Beauty’s father. And you are?”
    Handsome clears his throat. I know exactly how he feels. “My name is Handsome,” he says, shaking Papa’s hand. “And before you say anything, yes, it is truly my name, and yes, I realize it is not the most fitting.”
    Clarissa and Papa glance at me for confirmation. I nod at them. “’Tis true.”
    â€œHow wonderful!” Clarissa says, her eyes shining like they used to before the fire dimmed them. She gives me a hug as tight as Papa’s. “You have found your perfect match! Beauty and Handsome! I always thought I would be the first to find true love, but I am truly happy for you!”
    I can feel the heat on my cheeks at her words. Love? We have just met! Love is the last thing on my mind.
    Handsome laughs. “Beauty and I are a pair indeed. But not in the way you suggest.”
    Clarissa places her hands on her hips. “And why not, pray tell? Is it because of our circumstances? We will be back on our feet again, I promise you that.”
    He shakes his head. “No, it is not that at all.”
    â€œIs it because of her appearance? She can be quite pretty when she combs her hair and puts on some makeup. I tell her all the time to —”
    â€œIt is not that, either,” he says.
    I wish she would stop pressing him, but she does not. “Then why?” she asks again.
    He takes a deep breath and says, “I cannot marry your sister because in a few months I shall marry another.”
    â€œOh,” Clarissa says, her bright face dimming. “Well. That is that, then.”
    After an awkward moment of silence, Papa claps his hands together and turns to me. “So! What did you bring us for dinner?”

Chewing on the ginger root is not helping, and it tastes like feet. The coach has just pulled over for the third time so that I could settle my queasy stomach. Each time, my family groans in annoyance. But they can’t say I didn’t warn them. When our coach stops, the entire royal caravan has to stop, too, so no doubt there is groaning up and down the line.
    We are only going for two nights, and yet besides our luxurious carriage, we have four royal guards on horseback and three coaches filled with luggage, the customary gifts, and Mother’s lady-in-waiting, a woman named Clea who has attended my mother for twenty years.
    I climb back in the carriage and wrap my cloak tight around me. We pull back onto the road, and the rest of the caravan follows. The guards take up their places on all sides of our coach. I gaze out at them, envious of the fresh air on their faces, the freedom they enjoy from the confining carriage.
    I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the ever-present sway as the carriage picks up speed. “I do not understand why I couldn’t have simply ridden along on horseback.”
    â€œPrinces do not ride outside the carriage on long journeys,” Mother replies, returning to her knitting. “It is dangerous if you veer from the road. Bandits and all sorts of ill-mannered thieves could be lurking in the woods.”
    â€œI would not veer into the woods,” I mutter, pulling the thick curtain closed so I will not have to see the guards. I knew Mother would never let me ride outside. Even Alexander with his exceptional riding skills is stuck in here.
    I could take up the argument over my outfit again, but Mother has already insisted it is an honor to have been chosen and I shall be expected to make the best of it.
    Mercifully, I begin to feel groggy. The clomping of the horses’ hooves on the hard dirt