by MJ Haag
“Well, I’m not sure we ever got to the point of his request. He wants me to go to his study after I’ve finished eating.”
“You have egg in your hair,” Egrit said as she passed me.
* * * *
After washing in the laundry, I made my way to the library. Lord Ruhall paced in his study. As soon as I entered, he turned toward me. Some of his agitation faded as I approached.
“Sit,” he said.
“Do you ever tire of giving commands?” I asked as I sat. Behind me, he closed the study doors.
“No.”
He walked around my chair to stand in front of me. He still moved with the grace I’d grown accustomed to, walking with more of a prowl than a stride.
“Is it different? As a man?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Yes. Uncomfortable, truthfully. I had more freedom before. Everything feels so restrained now. Not just my clothes, or how I move, but my own skin.”
“How old were you when you were enchanted?”
“No more than twenty-three,” he said.
“You are over seventy years old. Of course you’ll feel a little strained.” He grunted, but I caught the amused twinkle in his eyes so like the twinkle the beast had in his eyes in the weeks before I was taken. I felt an ache in my middle at the sight.
“Of what did you wish to speak?” I asked, not wanting to spend more time than necessary with him.
He leaned back against his desk and studied me for several long moments. I fought to remain still under his scrutiny. Finally, he sighed.
“I think estate concerns are the safest subject for the time being. As you suggested, I read up on farming and contacted your friend, Henick, whom you shall never kiss again, by the way.”
My eyebrows shot up, but he continued without pause.
“There is no hope for planting any of the overgrown fields this year, but there are many ways to prepare them for next year. I need you to listen to my plans and point out any flaws.”
He explained that he’d harvested several bags of primrose from the lands and contracted with the local candle maker for scented candles. He also contacted the traveling merchant to establish a permanent trade route, though he didn’t state what he planned to trade.
For the candles that the candle maker had created from the flowers, the merchant paid the estate half of what was owed in gold and half in goats. The twenty goats now grazed in the overgrown fields, helping to prepare the ground for spring.
The remaining gold had been used to hire three cooks, two housemaids, five workers, a butler, a teacher, and a man of estate.
“Why three cooks?”
“I would slowly starve if I were left to feed myself.”
The memory of the beast dropping eggs on the floor pressed against me, and I frowned. I didn’t want reminders.
“I’m concerned with the expense. Surely one cook can handle simple meals through the summer.”
“What of preparing food stores for the winter?” He tilted his head, appearing truly interested in my thoughts.
I recalled all the work Bryn did for the four of us and adjusted my thinking.
“Two cooks perhaps, but certainly not three. What are the five workers doing?”
“Two are clearing the drive so wagons with supplies can pass. Swiftly is repairing the stables. And the other two are gathering and re-sowing the seeds from the primrose to expand the field for next spring.”
“How many horses do you have?”
“None yet.”
“What of the one...” I couldn’t finish the question. The image of Swiftly bringing me home in a horse drawn carriage also called to mind the baker. Lord Ruhall seemed to read my mind.
“Borrowed,” he said quietly.
I struggled to think of something else.
“Have Swiftly help with the drive. With three there, as soon as it’s passible, all five can work on the seeds. Re-sowing will give the greatest return next year. A horse, if you obtain one, can wait for stables to be repaired.”
He rubbed his jaw as he listened intently.
“And having two maids seems extravagant when not much of the manor is being used,” I said.
“But it will be soon. Some of the rooms haven’t been touched in fifty years.”
“Why a butler and a teacher?”
“Because they were enchanted with me. I owe them employment for as long as they want it.”
I nodded in agreement.
“Is there anything else, then?” I asked, ready to leave.
“Yes. Konrall is missing a baker now. Going to the Water will be a hardship on many. I’ve contacted the bakers in the Water. Bryn and Edmund will be coming to take over the bakery. I thought you’d want to know.”
Bryn’s rejection still stung too deeply to feel any happiness for her opportunity. I inclined my head in acknowledgement and stood at the same time he straightened from the desk. The move brought us close. His breath fanned my face for a moment. Then, he leaned in as if to kiss me. I turned my head.
“I’m not here for that kind of help,” I said. “I never was.”
He sighed.
“Come back tomorrow morning to discuss more. You’ll take your old room. It’s the only one still ready.”
I hurried away.
* * * *
The room was just as I’d left it with the exception of the wardrobe. Two dresses waited within it, obviously meant for me. Pretty, yet practical creations made by real hands. I touched the taupe material of the first dress as I tried to understand the turn my life had taken yet again.
The Liege Lord confused me. I understood he depended on me to continue helping him. I could even accept the dresses as a gift of thanks. But why place me in this room? I could easily clean and air out another one for myself. And why had he moved so close to me in the study? Did he think I could continue with the physical side of the relationship I’d had with the beast? My breast tingled at the thought while my stomach lurched in a sickening way, giving me mixed signals.
I understood my reaction. Although I’d liked everything the beast had done, I had not liked what the baker had tried. Fornication wasn’t for me. Perhaps if the beast were still here, I might eventually feel differently. However, if he were still here, I wouldn’t have suffered the baker’s touch at all.
I sighed and moved around the room, looking for something that might distract me from my dark thoughts.
Egrit saved me from boredom by knocking on the door a few minutes later.
“I’m happy you came,” she said, stepping into the room. “Your father sent me with a message that he’s left to settle your home in the Water.”
I nodded, and she hesitated.
“Do you need anything?” she asked.
“No. Wait, yes. A way to occupy my time.”
She grinned at me.
“I’m to clean the top floor and attic. Would you like to help?”
The thought of staying in my room for hours with nothing to do had me quickly agreeing. We walked to a dark and dusty section of a seldom used inner hall on the other side of the manor.
“Anything not of practical use or of sentimental value, we’re to place in the main hall for trade,” she said as she led me to a staircase I’d never discovered. Our skirts cleaned the cobwebs from the steps as we ascended.
“Most of the rooms up here are guest rooms and are seldom used, so very little should have sentimental value.”
Dust danced in a beam of light that pierced the dirty pane of the nearest window. I sneezed twice and followed Egrit into the first room. We tried not to disturb anything until we had a window open. With the breeze, we started cleaning and sorting.
We finished two rooms by dinner. I grabbed a quick bite to eat from the kitchen, washed up in the laundry, then eagerly sought my bed before the sun fully set.
During the night, a sound woke me, sending me into a panic; I’d never learned of Tennen’s fate.
“Shhh,” a familiar voice w
hispered. The bed dipped, and a strong arm curved around me.
I froze for a moment then relaxed at the feel of fingers gently working my braid free. I kept my eyes closed and imagined the beast next to me.
Comforted, I drifted back to sleep.
* * * *
A knock woke me a second before Egrit opened my door. I sat up quickly, remembering the beast’s visit, and turned to view the empty bed next to me. Not the beast, I thought. Alec. No, the Liege Lord. I wondered what it meant that he’d come to me at all. Did he still have trouble sleeping, even after the removal of the enchantment? If not that, then what? If he sought to use me again, he would be disappointed.
“Are you all right?” Egrit asked.
“Yes. It’s just odd being here again,” I said, slipping from the bed.
My dress from the day before waited draped over a chair. Dust streaked it, but I wasn’t about to dirty another dress when we would be cleaning more rooms today.
“I’ll leave you to dress,” she said, walking to the bed. She set a napkin on the cover. “I brought you something to eat.” She left the room and closed the door.
I quickly tossed aside my nightgown and slipped the dress over my head. Straightening the bedcover, I eyed the honeyed biscuit and wished for the magical trays the beast used to leave me. But, not one to spurn food in any form, I grabbed the biscuit as soon as the bed was made and took a bite on my way out the door.
When I located Egrit, she was already busy in a new room. I found cleaning a tedious chore best avoided under normal conditions. That we cleaned rooms untouched these last fifty years turned tedium into an exercise of willful perseverance.
Egrit and I had managed to complete two rooms before Father found me.
“Would you have time to meet in his Lordship’s study for the midday meal?”
I had no wish to see his Lordship; yet, the need for air not clouded with dust had me glancing at Egrit.
“Go,” she said. “I’ll find my own food and meet with you here when we’re both finished.”
I nodded and left the room with Father.
“You seem to have found a way to keep yourself busy,” he said.
“Yes. I can see now why two maids are needed.”
Father made a noise between agreement and amusement.
“Lord Ruhall dismissed the other this morning.”
Poor Egrit, I thought. Then realized I should have thought poor me for I certainly would not leave Egrit alone to deal with those rooms.
“Are you happy here?” Father asked as we descended to the second floor. “I could still seek employment elsewhere.”
I loved him so much for the offer.
“I am content,” I said, though I wasn’t.
I followed Father toward the library. My nerves wound tightly as we neared. I swallowed hard as we entered the library and crossed the rugs to the study. Inside, a tray waited on a small table. Lord Ruhall sat behind his desk, reading something. He didn’t look up at our arrival.
His dark head of hair was so dissimilar to the shaggy coat of the beast. Yet, I found similarity in the position in which he held himself in as he read. The connection brought an ache to my middle, and I had to look away.
“Sit, Benella,” my father said. “I’d prefer you didn’t touch the food.” He winked at me and brought me my plate.
I sat and listened as Father and Lord Ruhall began to discuss estate accounts over our meal. Besides the maid, he’d let go one of the cooks as I’d suggested. The benign conversation and Father’s presence eased my mind over the possible reasons Lord Ruhall had asked for my attendance. I remained quiet, enjoying the break and the food, and as soon as I swallowed my last bite, I excused myself.
Egrit had already returned to cleaning on the third floor when I arrived.
We finished four rooms that day, and my back ached when I made my way to my room. Dust coated my skin, and my stomach begged for dinner, but I didn’t care. I barred both doors, stripped from my gown, ran the washrag over my face and arms, then crawled into bed.
Sleep claimed me quickly.
Again a noise woke me, the slight rattle of the door and a soft curse followed by silence. I smiled sadly and closed my eyes against the tears that wanted to run down my cheeks. I missed the beast.
* * * *
My days settled into a routine. Egrit and I continued to clear four rooms a day, I ate an amiable meal with Father and Lord Ruhall midday, and Lord Ruhall quietly tried my doors each night.
The pile in the main hall grew and shrunk as carts came and hauled away things for trade. Spare chairs from already over furnished rooms, a few mirrors where there were duplicates, scented candles—many, many scented candles—rugs from rooms where they overlapped; I even placed a few questionable portraits depicting women in various nude positions on the pile. Egrit said nothing as I rid the manor of them.
The first week expired with little notice as everyone worked from dawn to dusk. On the following day, I went to join Lord Ruhall and Father for the midday meal and arrived before Father. Lord Ruhall sat behind his desk as usual but set his book aside as soon as I entered. He didn’t mention my locked doors and kept the conversation strictly estate related as we waited for my father to join us.
Thankfully, Father didn’t leave us waiting long.
“The third cart just left. The estate now has three hundred twenty-three gold, sir,” Father said as he came into the room. “There were some portraits of value that the merchant was too eager to take. Egrit bargained the price higher than I would have thought to go.”
“Family portraits?” Lord Ruhall asked, concerned.
A choked noise escaped me.
“I should hope not,” I said.
“Ah.” He changed the subject. “Now, what to do with that amount?” he said, looking at me. It was the first time in a week he’d directed a question to me.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts.
“The primrose seeds have been harvested and re-sown, and the drive has been cleared,” I said. “I suggest bringing one hand inside. Egrit and I could use someone to carry the heavier items down the stairs. Then, set the other four to haying. There is enough time to put up a good supply for winter to allow for a horse or two, which we will need for tilling fields in spring.”
“The estate records did show a savings by planting our own crops. Do you have a different suggestion, Benard?” he asked, turning to my father.
“I think Benella’s suggestion the wisest choice and can offer nothing better than the purchase of a horse or two with that amount.” My father glanced at me with a smile.
Lord Ruhall agreed to my plan with one exception. All five workers would attend the fields, and he would help clear the top floor. My back didn’t care who helped so long as Egrit and I didn’t have to carry anything more down the stairs.
However, my easy agreement to his assistance came back to haunt me the following day. Often, when I looked up from whatever task occupied me, I found him watching with a nearly indecipherable expression. At times, it hinted at anger and expectation. At others, remorse. He was courteous and respectful toward Egrit and cautiously cool around me.
I could find no fault in his behavior, yet it angered me. My conversation with Henick echoed in my ears. Inside, I had changed. A bitterness existed where none had before, and I had no idea what to do with it. So I sought jobs that would keep me away from his company as he walked to and fro, bringing items to the main entry.
Egrit and I were working together in one of the smaller guest rooms to hang a rug out the window to shake the dust from it.
“We might be better off rolling them up and taking them all outside for a thorough airing,” Egrit said, eyeing the rug. Dust still stuck to it.
I nodded. I didn’t want to carry the thing down the stairs, but holding that much weight out the window strained my back fiercely.
Behind us, I heard footsteps on the wood floor.
“It’s time to eat,” Lord Ruhall said
.
“A moment, please,” I said, helping Egrit pull the rug back in.
He waited by the door as she and I worked together to roll the rug. When I stepped toward him, he motioned for me to lead. We remained silent as we walked the halls.
In the study, Father waited for us. Lord Ruhall sat behind his desk as Father said there was nothing new to report. Our polite meal felt strained without estate affairs to discuss.
“Perhaps we don’t need to meet as often?” I said after swallowing a bite of stew.
Lord Ruhall flushed noticeably. Father looked down, keeping busy with his meal as the Lord of the manor shot me a disapproving look.
“We will continue to meet as we have.”
I nodded and concentrated on my own food, and as soon as I finished, excused myself.
* * * *
Another two weeks saw the top floor cleared, the purchase of two horses, and the estate coffers steady at three hundred gold. The men worked to repair the stables with a few leaving to hunt. Stag, boar, and fowl occasionally lay on the butcher block in the kitchen as the two cooks put away stores for winter. Per Lord Ruhall’s orders, they kept meals simple as their days filled with storage preparations.
With the top floor cleared, I convinced Egrit that we needed a day of rest. Before the house woke, she met me in the laundry where I had two fishing poles waiting; the same poles the beast and I had used so long ago.
“Are you certain he won’t mind?” Egrit asked, doubt lacing her voice.
“I’m certain.” We’d made significant progress, and we deserved a day of rest after the weeks we’d worked.
Egrit and I left through the laundry door. The light breeze teased stray strands of hair back from my face. Not a cloud decorated the sky. It was the perfect day to be outdoors. I stretched my stride, enjoying the walk. Egrit talked of her man, Tam, and the money they were saving to purchase a home off the estate once they wed.
“How old are you?” I asked. She seemed so young to be thinking of marriage.
“I was seventeen when I was enchanted. So, I must be sixty-seven now,” she said with a laugh.
I smiled but said nothing. Even if she hadn’t been enchanted, she wasn’t too young. And neither was I. My seventeenth birthday was not far away. So much had happened so quickly that I felt much older in many ways. Still, marriage...I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready for that. Yet, most girls my age were already planning weddings. If a girl saw eighteen unwed, it usually meant she had no hope of marrying. Out of love, my father had held on to us far past when he should have. I wondered what my life would have been like if he’d wed us off sooner.
