Depravity, A Beauty and the Beast Novel(37)

When I turned back to the open door, I saw the dark mists swirling toward it and knew the beast approached. It snuffed out the sun shining through the windows and cast the room into premature evening gloom. My eyes didn’t adjust quickly enough to see him move into the room, but my ears picked up his feet brushing against the cobbled floor as he strode toward me.

“You’ve met your end of the bargain and more. Will you return tomorrow?”

“I won’t abuse your generosity,” I declined carefully. “I have enough to feed us for a week if we’re careful.”

“A week?” He scoffed. “Come back tomorrow, and I will have sun-ripened tomatoes for you.”

My mouth watered.

“And the price?”

“The same. An hour of cleaning.”

I frowned as I considered the offer. He’d left me alone to clean this time, but would he do so the next time? And why did he suddenly want someone to clean for him? Food and answers were only likely if I returned.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

He grunted and made another slight noise so soft and so brief I couldn’t be sure what is was or what it meant.

He led me to the gate, then disappeared. The walk home wasn’t as terrible as I’d anticipated. I had a rabbit to carry in addition to the potatoes, but it was the promise of tomatoes the next day that lightened my step. Before returning to the house, I traded half the potatoes for coin, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake, and purchased some oats and milk for breakfast. Living in the Water, we hadn’t had room for the goat; and Bryn had sold her to the butcher. I wondered where that coin had gone.

When I walked through the door with potatoes, milk, oats, and rabbit I was surprised that Bryn wasn’t inside. I placed the items in the kitchen storage and went to clean up before anyone returned. Dirt smudged my dress from cleaning, so I changed into my trousers and shirt to take the dress outside and air it, which meant hanging it on the line of rope strung between trees and beating the dirt from it. After I finished, I hauled water from our private well to wash my hands and face.

By the time Bryn returned, I once again wore my dress and was reading a book while sitting comfortably in the stuffed chair before the cold hearth. She asked where I’d obtained the food, and I asked where she’d been. She didn’t answer so neither did I. She lit the stove, and I listened to her start preparations for dinner. I tried not to let my mouth water.

Father said nothing when we sat down to a dinner of rabbit and baked potatoes, though he did glance at me. Just as Blye and now Bryn had their secrets, so did he. None of us knew where he taught; and when asked, he evaded the question.



The next morning, after a hearty meal of milk soaked hot oats, I set out for the estate better prepared.

As I had the day before, I set traps at the edge of the mist before turning north toward the gate. The dense fog of the day before didn’t reappear as the gate swung open with a high-pitched screech. Instead of ignoring the invitation to enter and continuing to the dirt patch, I stepped through the gate. I wanted to leave the tomatoes on the vine until the last minute.

Within the beast’s domain, only the barest hint of white mist clung to the air.

Walking north, where I thought the house should be, I gasped when an immense structure came into view. I counted two stories of windows on the wing with the kitchen and four on the main building, which extended far into the surrounding trees. I could easily clean one hour each day for the next year.

Inside, I viewed my work from the day before with satisfaction. On the butcher’s block in the middle of the kitchen a note lay waiting next to a plate with cheese, bread, and a cup of cold spring water.

Eat and rest before you continue your work on the kitchen.

I set my bag beside the plate and drank deeply. Then I looked around the kitchen, wondering what else he would have me clean, until I spotted the four doors in the kitchen which had been locked the day before. All now stood ajar. The first led to a long room lined with three beds. Dust coated everything. The next door led to a hall. Walking the hall, I came to a set of steps set in the left wall. They led down into pitch black, and a cold draft drifted up to swirl around my ankles. I kept walking and found a door to the right that led to a linen closet. Everything in that room looked white and new, except again, for a fine dusting. The door at the end of the hall remained locked though I saw no keyhole.

Turning back, I retraced my steps to the kitchen. There, I took my bag to the servant’s quarters and quickly changed before exploring the other doors off of the kitchen. One long room held a variety of foods, all looking surprisingly fresh. The next led to a small study filled with shelves of books. Curious, I plucked a book from its perch and opened it to find a page detailing how to dress and stuff a quail. Books on how to cook. What a splendid idea. Reluctantly, I replaced the book and returned to the main kitchen.