Depravity, A Beauty and the Beast Novel(27)

“Stand up. Now.” His angry growl sounded nearby.

I really had no choice. I could sit in the water until I rotted or his anger got the better of him and he pulled me from the water regardless of his promise of refuge, or I could stand on my own and hope for the shirt.

“I’ll stand,” I said quietly, gripping the sides of the tub. “And when you feel you’ve shamed me enough, feel free to reward me with a shirt.”

I stood facing the table, hoping it would offer me a bit of modesty since it came to my waist. And it did until he flung it to the side. The dying fire and the long shadow I cast hid him again, and I hoped the lack of light hid me as well. I wanted to close my eyes but dared not. Instead, I looked down and stepped over the edge of the tub.

“Shame,” he whispered. “There is no shame in this. Only desperation.” He sounded slightly sad.

I didn’t have time to reflect on it because the shirt sailed out of the darkness and landed on my head, blinding me. The door opened and closed before I could pull it from my face. Quickly putting my arms through the sleeves, I threaded the buttons through their holes before turning to add more wood to the fire. As I guessed, I stood in the kitchen, alone once again.

My dress lay in a heap on the floor. I thought of putting it back on, but then wondered what I’d do. Unless my father had returned, there was as little safety for me outside the estate as there was inside. Sighing, I tossed my dress into the bath water. After rinsing it as best I could, I wrung it out and hung it over the edge of the table, which I again pushed close to the fire.

It took me a while to empty the tub with the bucket, but eventually I had all the water outside, and I turned the tub upside down and used it as a chair. The long shirt fell to the tops of my knees when I stood. When I sat, it rode a bit higher in back, but protected me enough that I didn’t have to sit bare bottomed.

My eyes grew heavy as I waited for the dress to dry, and the stack of wood beside the hearth grew smaller. My stomach growled, and I recalled my request for food. Standing, I searched for something on the kitchen shelves and found a surprising bounty of hard cheese and dried fruit. I took a small portion of each and sat back by the fire.

After about an hour passed, the door flew open again. My heart pounded within its boney cage, and I moved to turn around, but his words stopped me.

“Do not turn. Stay as you are.” He sounded angry. Beyond angry, actually. His growl was so severe it was hard to understand him.

I stayed still, staring at the flames while I strained to hear him move. Suddenly he spoke from right behind me as he gently touched my hair, his tone conflicting with his touch.

“Your payment went to waste.”

Unsure what he meant, I remained quiet. He touched a tender spot near the crown of my head, and I flinched.

“Hurt again, girl?”

“Benella,” I murmured, very uncomfortable with him standing so close behind me.

“Not a pretty name,” he said with less of a growl.

“It’s after my father and mother,” I said slowly as his touch feathered over my head as if trying to find where I was hurt. “My mother had hoped after two daughters, the third would be a boy and planned to name him after my father, Benard. When I arrived, she’d been so upset that my father had suggested I still carry part of his name and hers as well, Nadelle. Benella is better than Nadard.”

The beast gave a surprised grunt, and he parted my hair. I knew what he intended and leaned forward out of his way.

“I cannot accept any more from you without knowing the price.”

He snorted.

“I give this freely.” He tugged me back and touched his tongue to my head for a second time. I wondered what he’d do if he got a strand of hair in his mouth, but then supposed licking my head wasn’t so different from licking his own furry hide.

It soothed the bare patches so much that I began to doze and leaned back against him. His warmth cradled me, and I fell asleep.



At some point during the night, strangely muffled sounds of cawing roused me from a deep sleep. Curled on my side, I snuggled deeper into the pile of furs lying under me. From the darkness, something growled softly and silenced the bird as a large, warm hand soothed my hair. I sank back into my slumber.

In the morning, I stretched with a yawn and groaned. The cold cobble floor made me ache, and I sat up with a shiver and a frown. Hadn’t there been a pile of furs last night? Studying the kitchen, lit now by the sun that shone through several windows set high on the walls, I saw only my dress, boots, and underthings. No furs.

Recalling the hand on my head, my mouth popped open. The beast. I sprang to my feet and looked around, the shirt brushing my legs. Everything clicked back into place, and I hurried to dress as I worried what Father might be thinking.