The skin of my back felt tight, and my shoulder still ached a bit when I stretched it forward. The beast had healed me but not completely. As I sat on a chair and waited, I wondered again the reason behind his mercy. Thinking of the puzzling beast was much more pleasant than the baker’s depravity or my sisters’ deceit. Yet, my thoughts tended to wander in their direction.
Bryn had the fire stoked to heat the water, so I was comfortable while she sweated. A while later, she pronounced the tub ready and moved the bathing screen in front of it before stepping outside to cool herself.
I stripped down and slid into the water with a contented sigh, putting thoughts of the baker, the beast, village boys, and family lies from my head.
Three
In the morning, I was last from bed, not wanting my sisters around when I dressed. Blye had thoughtfully hung my dress the night before so the wrinkles from storage would fall out on their own.
The dress was a gift from Blye and my father for my birthday more than six months ago. Father had supplied the material, and Blye had worked on it for weeks, making me stand for several painfully boring fittings. I typically only wore it on washdays and then hid in the cottage with it. Blye usually laughed at me.
Light blue with a full skirt edged with a white ruffle, topped with a square-necked, long-sleeved bodice, it truly was a thing of beauty, but I looked so different in it. I didn’t think it made me look awful, just overly feminine. Secretly, I was concerned with the responsibilities wearing such a dress might bring. With my britches, most people let me go my way. Sighing, I stood and slipped the pretty dress over my head, not bothering with any bindings.
Medium height with my mother’s dark sable hair and hazel eyes and my father’s slim build, I looked a gangly youth in my britches and shirt. Now, the dress removed the gangle and turned me into a slender young woman. I knew that was what I was, but I didn’t like it. The dress also shoved my small breasts high as if I wanted to put them on display, like produce at a market. The errant thought of selling them led to thoughts of Sara and the baker, and I decided that hiding in my room all day really was the best option.
A knock sounded on my bedroom door as I nervously smoothed my hands over the skirt. Only Father knocked, so I called for him to enter.
“You look lovely, Bini,” he said with a caring smile. “I know you would prefer to stay inside, but would you walk with Bryn to the candle maker? I need another candle.”
Father read by the light of the fire in his study most nights, but needed the candle for any writing he might do at his desk.
I nodded my assent and accepted the copper he handed me.
“Get the best you can with that.” We both knew it wouldn’t be much, but neither of us spoke it, just as I didn’t question why Bryn couldn’t go alone.
The candle maker had taken a dislike to Bryn a few years before. She’d gone to purchase candles from him, and the encounter had gone badly. He’d set his price and wouldn’t come down from it. She’d called him a miserly old man, which he was, but he was also nice and didn’t like being called names. Regardless, she’d only gotten angry because she was a miserly young woman trying to pinch a copper whenever she could for her own selfish purpose. I didn’t see how she could fault the candle maker for doing the same.
At least, by having Bryn accompany me, Father had given me the safety I needed to go about in my confounded dress. If I met up with Tennen and Splane alone while wearing it, I’d never stand a chance at outrunning them.
After lacing up my sturdy boots hidden beneath my skirts, I straightened my shoulders and headed to the kitchen. Bryn waited by the door and wore her best dress. She’d been blessed with Father’s fair hair and pale eyes and our mother’s curvy figure. Seeing her, I shored my resolve to ignore the stares the pair of us would receive. I knew everyone would compare us and didn’t want to contemplate who would come ahead in the comparison.
“I think you’ve grown, Benella,” Bryn commented, eyeing me dispassionately.
I quickly looked down at my skirts, which still hovered an inch above the floor.
“Not in height,” she laughed as she turned away to open the door.
Refusing to think on her comment, I followed her out into the sunlight, feeling awkward as the skirts brushed against my bare legs. I didn’t own any stockings, just socks and boots fit for a young boy.
“I hope Father gave you coin. I have none to spare for the candle maker,” she said as I closed the door and rushed to catch up with her.
“Not enough, but the candle maker is nice, so I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
Bryn had no reply.