by MJ Haag
Four days had passed since Rose’s letter. Though I felt we’d made fair plans toward a passable feast, I still worried about the food we would provide.
“Has Tam checked the apple trees lately?” I asked.
“We walk out each morning at sunrise,” she said with a blush, and I suspected frolicking as nymphs wasn’t something they would forget soon.
“We tried one this morning. They’re tart. Another week or two will be needed.”
“We might need to start picking a few days early than that so Edmund has the time he needs to make the pastries,” I said.
“Mrs. Palant and I were talking last night about the menu. We think smoked fish would be a nice addition,” she said, touching on a subject I’d so far avoided.
“Smoked fish is a good idea. I think Mrs. Wimbly is salting or immediately preparing the fish being brought to her. I’ll have Mr. Crow mention the idea to her. Any ideas for the main course?”
Egrit shook her head, looking worried.
“We have time. We’ll come up with something.”
She nodded and left the room. I lifted the cover from the tray and smiled at the egg tartlet. We needed to work on a new recipe. But, I doubted there was much else Lord Ruhall could make with the ingredients we had in the kitchen. That thought took me back to the source of my dilemma for the feast. Grudgingly, I acknowledged the impossibility of hosting the feast without using some more of the estate’s gold.
With a sigh, I dressed then returned the empty tray to the kitchen.
Mrs. Wimbly’s voice reached me before I entered.
“I told you, we’re not a market. Lord Ruhall has no use for—”
“Henick,” I said as soon as I saw the man in the door.
His frustrated expression melted when he saw me.
“It’s all right, Mrs. Wimbly. I’ll speak with Henick.”
Mrs. Wimbly turned to scowl at me. The woman might know how to cook, but her personality remained unpleasant.
“He’s trying to sell us potatoes,” she said in a huff.
I smiled at Henick.
“Would you happen to have onions, too?”
Mrs. Wimbly threw her hands in the air and stomped from the kitchen. Kara kept her head down as she continued to prepare the midday meal.
“I do, but not with me. Father thought you might be interested in some produce since the manor probably has fallow fields,” he said, waving to his wagon that waited just outside the door.
“Let’s see what you have.” I stepped out, moving toward the back of the wagon. My skirts tangled with my legs when I attempted to boost myself up, and I missed the days when I went about in trousers and had freedom of movement.
With Henick’s help, I stepped up into the bed. Four large sacks rested near the front. They were tied with twine, so I easily opened the first one and pulled out a potato. Dirt sprinkled off as I turned it in my hand.
“How much for a sack?”
“I’ll give you two sacks of potatoes and half a sack of onions for a gold and a promise to dance with me at the feast.”
“You received your invitation, then?”
He nodded, his eyes twinkling.
“Yesterday. It was one of the reasons we knew you might be interested in potatoes.”
“Well, you have a deal,” I said, dropping the potato in the sack.
Henick reached up, and with a firm grip on my waist, helped me from the wagon. Inside the kitchen, something crashed. That woman...I sighed, pasted a pleasant smile on my face and motioned to the drive that wandered to the estate’s gate.
“Shall we walk and discuss delivery?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled knowingly.
“Yes.”
We strolled side by side in silence until we passed the front of the house.
“Are you well?” he asked.
“Much the same. Memories plague me. I was thinking a fresh start in a new place might be the adventure I need to lighten my spirit.”
“You want to leave, then?” Disappointment laced his statement.
“Not just yet. I’ll be here to honor my promised dance.”
“A dance I will look forward to.”
We’d reached the gate and turned around. Walking from the manor to the gate took much less time without the tangle of living plants to impede a person.
“I can leave the sacks of potatoes and return with the onions in a few days.”
“That will work perfectly. Thank you, Henick. I’m grateful that you and your father thought of us.”
When we reached the wagon, he lifted the potatoes from the bed and set them by the door before climbing aboard. I waited beside the door and waved as he left.
“Benella.” Alec’s angry, clipped voice had me turning in surprise just as Henick rounded the front of the building. “What are you doing?”
Behind him, I caught Mrs. Wimbly glaring at me with an overly satisfied smirk.
“Purchasing potatoes and onions. Now we can serve individual meat pies.”
Alec’s gaze drifted to the direction in which Henick had disappeared.
I turned to Mrs. Wimbly.
“Please see the potatoes stored. Henick will return later with the onions.”
She glanced at Alec expectantly as I moved to walk inside.
A moment after I cleared the door, Alec followed. He didn’t speak as we left the kitchen; but in the hall, he caught me by the waist and pulled me into the laundry. His arm remained fixed over my stomach, anchoring my back to his chest. He leaned forward until his lips almost touched my ear. My pulse leapt.
“I said he was not to touch you.” The low words spoken so close to my ear almost made me shiver.
“No,” I said slowly. “You said he wasn’t to kiss me anymore. And he didn’t. Now, I need to let my father know of the deal Henick and I struck so Henick can be paid when he returns.”
Instead of releasing me, Alec tangled his free hand in my hair.
“I don’t want him touching you, either,” he said. The menace in his tone had me submitting to the insistent, steady draw on my hair. His lips found the column of my neck. A tingle spread where his mouth touched. “From the first day you entered my lands, you were mine. No other will have you.”
I shivered.
“Don’t continue my torture, Benella. I miss you. I miss the way we spent our days together.”
My heart skipped a beat. The memory of his mouth on my skin, of his hands gripping my thighs, dimmed the memory of the baker’s touch. I missed the days we’d spent together too.
“Marry me,” he said, surprising me.
“I cannot.”
He dropped his hands and yelled his frustration. The sudden noise startled me. I spun to face him. His angry gaze pierced me.
“I asked you when I had nothing to offer but myself, and you refused me. I ask again, now offering you a title and modest wealth. But you refuse me still. What exactly am I missing?” He paced before me, his relentless scowl never turning away.
“My answer remains. I do not know you.”
“How do you not know me? You know I can barely cook an edible meal, abhor arithmetic, and irritate easily. You know you need never fear me, that I would never harm you.” He lifted his hand to stroke my cheek where he once had hurt me. “That I cannot sleep unless I am beside you. That you can calm me with a touch or a word. That I search you out just to hear you. You know there will never be another for me. That there is only you.” He dropped his hand. “Yet, you say you cannot...I say you stubbornly will not. What is left to know?”
I stepped back from him and looked about the room.
“I gave up my freedom in exchange for my father’s life, and the more I learned about you, the more I wanted to stay. I saw something in you worth helping, and my heart broke for you each time you tried to win back your freedom and failed.
“You say you need me. I’ve always known that. You asked what I still need to know...” I took a breath and pressed on.
“When faced with the decision of saving the people here from re-enchantment or saving me, you choose your people. I understand your reasons. I’m not angry. Yet, I do not believe you can ever love me as much as I have loved you.”
Alec turned scarlet, his gaze thunderous.
A cough echoed outside the laundry room, and Egrit stepped in.
“Lord Ruhall, Mr. Hovtel wants to speak with you.”
Alec didn’t glance at me as he stormed from the room. Egrit gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher then left.
I quickly made my way to the ballroom where I spent the rest of my day scrubbing the floor and avoiding Lord Ruhall. I would speak to Father about Henick tomorrow.
* * * *
A warm hand on my abdomen woke me. My stomach lurched sickeningly at the same time a tingle of awareness crept through me. I took a moment to remind myself it wasn’t the baker touching me. He was gone.
Alec held me from behind with his arm draped over my waist. His hand didn’t move but rested possessively on my bare skin just below my navel. He slept peacefully with me, just as he’d said.
Yet, knowing it was Alec didn’t lift my unease at being touched by a furless hand. Breathing slowly through my nose, I tried to focus on a more pleasant memory than the baker. I remembered the beast kissing his way from my breast to my stomach and lower still. My breathing quickly grew shallow, and I warmed considerably. Perhaps that wasn’t the best memory on which to dwell. I struggled to push away the recollection, but the feel of his tongue rasping between my legs lingered.
Dislodging Alec’s hand, I rolled onto my stomach. Though I’d successfully banished my unease, it took a while for the new sensations to fade and for sleep to find me once more.
* * * *
The following morning, I woke before Egrit arrived. I quickly dressed and left the room. Wary of Lord Ruhall’s mood, I chose to clean and forgo breakfast. The ballroom and connecting parlors were spotless, and Egrit and Mrs. Palant had agreed to start on the main sitting room at the front of the manor. However, the room remained empty and untouched.
Just as I was leaving, I collided with Swiftly.
“I’m sorry, Miss Hovtel,” he said, quickly reaching out to steady me.
“No need for apology. I’m right and well.” My heart still hammered from the unexpected impact, though. For half a moment, I’d thought him Alec.
“Meaning you can release her, Swiftly,” Alec said from somewhere behind me.
Annoyance laced his words, and I recalled his reaction when Henick had walked with me. I inwardly cringed, and Swiftly immediately dropped his hand.
“Was there something you needed?”
Unsure to which of us he spoke, I remained facing Swiftly. Swiftly stepped away from me and looked at a point beyond me.
“I’ve run out of nails.”
“There’s a smith in the village, according to Miss Hovtel. Take this and get what you need.”
A coin flipped through the air, and gold glinted in the early morning light. Swiftly caught the coin easily. He nodded and was about to turn away when I realized I’d be left alone with Alec.
“I should help,” I said, moving to catch up to Swiftly. “I’m better at wheedling a fair price.”
Alec remained quiet behind us.
It wasn’t until we were halfway to Konrall that I realized what I’d done. I’d offered to face the people who’d been present at my near rape. My steps slowed noticeably.
“Miss Hovtel?”
My stomach clenched, and I struggled to breathe through it.
“Benella, you look pale. Are you feeling faint?”
Exhaling slowly, I shook my head.
“Not in the least. Just settling a moment in my mind.”
“I can negotiate the price of nails,” he said softly. “You need not accompany me.”
“I swear I’m right and well. Besides, I must visit the candle maker. We’ll need large, tall pillars for the feast. Bigger than anything we have.”
“Then I’ll take you there. You can inquire about candles while I speak with the smith. I’ll return for you when my business is complete.”
I nodded, glad I didn’t have to return to the manor just yet and equally glad I could avoid the Coalre family.
The candle maker greeted me with a smile when he opened the door.
“Benella, welcome. Come in, come in.” As soon as he stepped aside, Swiftly turned away to go to the smithy.
“It’s been too long, dear child. How are you?”
“Well, and you?”
He snorted.
“Well? I doubt well. I heard what happened.” He patted my hand and led me to the chair near the fire. “Sit.”
“You heard? From who?”
“Your sister. She needed candles. She’s a mean one, that girl. Silly twit to try to put the blame on you. A harsh tongue for one carrying another man’s babe.”
My eyes rounded, and he laughed at me as he sat in his chair. “I’m old but my eyes and ears work well. There is plenty of yelling coming from the bakery of late. Edmund’s a good man. Shame he didn’t know about your sister before it was too late.”
I had no idea what to say, so I remained quiet for a moment.
“Did you receive your invitation to the harvest feast?” I asked finally.
“I did. I hear we’ll have some fancy apple pastries.”
“And cider, meat pies, and smoked fish. The menu isn’t set yet. Like everything at the estate, it needs work.”
“So what can I do for you?”
“I need pillars to light the ballroom once the sun sets.”
“Do you have stands?”
“How tall would they need to be?”
“About five feet to keep the flame away from the children. And wide to keep the flame from a lady’s hair.”
“We don’t have them yet, but we will.”
“I’m guessing you’ll need a dozen big pillars. The fire will be lit, most likely.”
“Yes.”
He hummed to himself and looked at his shelves.
“I can do it, but it’ll take all the wax I have. When the night’s done, I’ll collect the remaining wicks and wax. Since I’m taking more than half back, I’ll halve the price. A blunt silver for each candle.”
A little over a gold for a dozen pillars.
“The price is more than fair. Since you’ll need to stay until the end, I’ll have a room readied for—”
He laughed.
“There is no need for that. I’ll walk home and sleep comfortably in my own bed.”
“Then, I insist Swiftly bring you home. You’ll have too much wax to carry safely in the dark.”
“Very well.”
Swiftly’s knock ended my visit, and before I left, I promised to send payment the same day.
After we returned to the manor, I sent Swiftly back with the required coin while I helped clean the front sitting parlor. I was content to lend my assistance and avoid Alec. I’d upset him with my rejection and with my reason for doing so. No doubt he felt there was more to say on the topic. In my mind, there wasn’t.
The next day, I successfully managed the same evasion. Though he did almost catch me alone in the laundry; however, his distinctive stride had given me enough warning to slip out the door. I’d waited around the corner with bated breath until he quit the room once more, cursing softly.
The nights proved more difficult as I continued to leave the door between our rooms unlocked. I’d debated locking them but thought it would only aggravate him further. Since he didn’t accost me as I slept and only held me close, I continued to allow his nightly visits.
My feelings toward Alec were confusing. With a glance, he could change my pulse or just as likely annoy me. I found his dedication to returning the estate to its former glory admirable; but at the same time, I resented that he’d put it before me. I pitied him his continued scrutiny from Rose but wanted to shake him senseless for his close observance of me.
Rathe
r than attempt to resolve how I felt, I chose not to think of it at all and drifted through my days, keeping busy with feast preparations.
Before twelve days had passed, much of the lower floor shined from our collective efforts.
* * * *
“Two weeks before the feast,” Egrit said as she entered my room.
I groaned and burrowed under the covers.
“Come now. You have things to do today. Lord Ruhall needs you to go to the Water with Swiftly. The carriage is waiting for you out front.”
I sat up in bed, pushing down the covers with the motion.
“Why am I going to the Water?”
“He didn’t say.” Egrit moved to my wardrobe and pulled out the dress she’d washed. She tossed it to me as I slid from bed. “But I’m sure it has to do with the feast. Swiftly probably knows more.”
“Instead of the carriage, see if we can take the wagon,” I said, unabashedly stripping from my shirt in my hurry to dress. “If we’re going to the Water, we should take the spare milk we have.”
“A sound plan.”
“Have Swiftly meet me in the kitchen,” I said as my head cleared the neckline of the dress. It took a moment for me to right myself and notice that Egrit was no longer there.
After quickly washing my face and teeth, I left my room. The rapid click of my boot heels echoed in the hall. It had been over a week since we’d last delivered milk. I wondered how much milk we had in storage and hoped it would be enough to give some to each home as we had before.
Swiftly waited in the kitchen and stood when I entered.
“Good morning,” I said with a smile. “I apologize for the change in plans but thought we could take the milk as promised.”
“I’ve plans for the milk, Miss,” Mrs. Wimbly said from her place at the butcher’s block. She was kneading dough and didn’t look up as she spoke.
“Plans?”
“For soft cheese.”
“How much cheese do you plan to make?”
“As much as the milk in storage will give me.” A hard note had crept into her voice.
I studied her for a moment. She always seemed so busy with the food preparations she currently maintained. I wondered how she would find the time to make cheese, too.
