Depravity, A Beauty and the Beast Novel(11)

We walked the rest of the way to town, each lost in our own thoughts, mine mostly fervent wishes not to run into Tennen with Bryn at my side. My wishes didn’t go unheard. The anvil laid quiet and the billows lax when we left the path for the main road. Relieved, I crossed the street and entered the candle maker’s home. The soft chime of the bell attached to the door greeted me.

“Benella!” the candle maker exclaimed, welcoming me with a smile.

Sitting at a table near his hearth, he removed a line of strings from a pot of melted wax and set it on the holder to the side. He had once explained that his candles were the best around because he took care to ensure the candles stood straight the entire time, thus burned their wax evenly.

“What brings you in today?” he asked, standing. His bones creaked and cracked with the effort, but I didn’t try to insist that he sit for our discussion. He held a firm belief that he honored his customers by standing to wait on them. His gnarled hand patted down his wispy white hair as he slowly straightened his frame.

I held out the copper.

“Father sent me for a candle. I know you offer nothing but the finest, but he’d like something modest if possible.”

“Benella, your honeyed words are a trap for an unwary man, to be sure.” He grinned at me, laughing and mumbling “nothing but the finest” under his breath. He didn’t take the proffered coin, rather he walked to the shelves and rummaged through the pale candles for a moment before pulling out a thick one with a satisfied sigh. A blackened wick poked from one melted end.

“This is one I made for myself,” he said, handing it to me. “A gift for the flowers, until I can pay you properly. Tell your father it will burn at least ten hours if he trims it.”

I nodded my thanks, accepted the candle, and curled my fingers around the copper.

As I left, I debated about the coin. If I gave it to Father, he’d most likely give it to Bryn for supplies, which we wouldn’t see. But, with Bryn at my side and a copper in hand, I could go to the bakery, avoid the baker, and buy some flour. After all, a copper wasn’t enough to buy a loaf of bread these days.

Bryn waited for me outside. I handed her the candle, and she placed it in her bag without comment.

“I’d like to go to the bakery and see how much flour I can purchase,” I said, stopping her when she would have turned home. She raised her brows at me, no doubt surprised by my willingness to linger in town when wearing a dress, and followed me without comment.

The door to the bakery stood propped open and waves of heat rolled out. No one lingered within to trade gossip today. I stepped onto the porch and quickly ducked inside the store. Miss Medunge sat on a stool behind a counter lined with a narrow variety of fresh bread. She smiled at me and waved me in.

“The bread’s been picked over already. This is what’s left until dinner,” she said, pointing to the loaves.

“I’m interested in purchasing flour, however much a copper will get me,” I said, setting the coin on the counter. I could almost taste the biscuits I imagined Bryn would make.

She pursed her lips in thought. “Just under two handfuls, I think. Do you have a bit of cloth for it?”

I cringed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Don’t worry. I can loan that if you promise to bring it back.”

Nodding my promise, I watched her go through the door to the bakery. The aroma of fresh bread made my mouth water as I waited. When the door swung open, I looked up expecting her smiling face but, instead, met the eyes of the baker. In his hand, he held a small bundle of cloth tied with a bit of string.

“Benella, I couldn’t believe it when my sister told me you were here to buy flour,” he said while his eyes wandered over me, mostly lingering on the exposed skin of my neck and chest. “And so prettily attired. I didn’t know you owned a dress.”

I didn’t care for his tone.

“Here is the copper,” I said, scooting it across the counter with one finger.

He smirked at me and held out the flour, waiting until I reached for it to grab my fingers with his other hand. He petted them with his own sweaty digits.

“Perhaps, I will see you later,” he whispered, setting the flour bag in my palm.

I said nothing, staring at him while maintaining a straight face. Eventually, he released my hand, and I turned and slowly made my exit. Sweat beaded on my upper lip when I stepped out into the cool air, but my fate didn’t turn any better. Tennen stood near Bryn, and they spoke quietly. When he heard me, he looked up with a gleam in his eyes.

“Needed to see the baker?” he asked with a laugh.

Bryn, not liking that I’d immediately stolen his attention, pouted prettily, but he ignored her.