Depravity, A Beauty and the Beast Novel(23)

“Don’t be ridiculous, Splane,” his mother scolded. She didn’t look at me or thank me, simply changed directions and went to the baker, through the front door. Splane hurried to follow her.

I hoped that would help end some of the animosity they had toward me. Walking back to the cottage, I pondered the candle maker’s tale, unsure who in that story I needed to free or teach. Part of me was inclined to believe it was the Liege Lord trapped in the estate like the candle maker suggested, but why would I want to free such a bane? Perhaps that’s what he needed to be taught...proper behavior.

As I neared the cottage, the goat bleated pathetically in the back, so I walked around to investigate. There, within sight of the open doors, Tennen had Bryn pinned to a mound of fresh hay. Her skirts were hiked up to her waist and her legs wrapped around Tennen’s rapidly pumping, naked backside. Neither noticed me.

I pivoted back around the corner and pressed myself against the wall, out of sight and in shock. The goat’s bleat drowned out most of their mingled moans. After a few moments it quieted, their moans and the goat’s protests over their use of her bedding.

“Tennen,” I heard Bryn say softly. “My father wants me to marry soon.”

“You are of an age.”

I cringed for my sister loving such a fool.

“As are you,” she said.

In the silence, I heard the soft rustle of clothes being righted.

“I would be a good wife,” Bryn said.

“Why would I want to marry you when I’ve already fucked you? It’s nothing special anymore.”

Hearing her soft gasp, I quickly moved to the front of the cottage and let myself in. Not trusting either of them, I hid in Father’s study. How could Bryn give him so much of herself? Hadn’t she seen the type of man he was? He reminded me of the Liege Lord in the candle maker’s story. How many Bryns had he left behind? Poor Bryn. I wanted to go out and comfort her, but she would not react kindly to my knowing her shame. She’d given herself and been rejected for it.

So, I waited quietly in the office. When the cloud-covered sky dimmed enough to indicate Father’s impending return, I slipped out the window. The dress hampered me—it was more of an inelegant tangle and fall out of the window—but I managed to leave the house without being detected. I circled the woods in front of the cottage to step out onto the path and reapproached our home from a distance.

Bryn didn’t look up from whatever it was she stirred on the stove, but it didn’t matter. The desolation on her face was plain to see.

“Is Blye home?” I asked, truly wondering where she’d been through Tennen’s visit.

“No. She took a few of her creations to the seamstress this morning and hasn’t been back.” She barely whispered the words, and as soon as she finished speaking, she went out the back door without a word.

I didn’t stay to listen to her soft sobs but fled once again to Father’s study to read about plants.



At dinner, Father announced his plans to travel to Water-On-The-Bridge the next day. He had many books in his library and knew he couldn’t leave them all to move in one trip, so he hired a wagon and asked if either of my sisters would like to join him. Both promptly said yes, though for very different reasons. Blye explained she wanted to speak with the seamstresses there to see if she could apprentice for room and board, a sure way to lengthen the time limit of remaining unwed so she could seek a suitable contender. Bryn stated plainly that no one in Konrall would ask for her, and she would like the chance to meet the eligible men the Water had to offer.

Father agreed to take them both and asked that I stay to teach his class. With a feeling of dread, I agreed.



The next morning, we worked together to load the wagon, which Splane had driven over at dawn. Bryn made no comment about Tennen’s whereabouts. With the back loaded with books carefully packed in crates and covered with oiled cloth, Father eyed the dark skies.

“We’d best be off,” he said to my sisters. He handed me his lesson plan for the day, hugged me farewell, and climbed aboard to take the reins. They left me standing by the cottage door, and only Father gave a backward glance.

“Watch for us near dinner,” he called before they disappeared into the trees.

I walked the path to the schoolhouse, warily watching for Tennen and Splane, unsure if the blunt silver had helped our relationship or not. When Splane dropped off the wagon, he’d spent so much time gaping at Bryn, he hadn’t spared me a glance. The Coalre boys couldn’t keep a secret, it would seem.

The butcher’s daughter, Magdaline, stood at the school doors waiting for me. Twelve and shy, she chirped a surprised greeting at me, her eyes wide.