by MJ Haag
“I see. How much milk is in storage?”
“Sixteen small barrels, Miss Hovtel,” Kara said. Mrs. Wimbly’s movements stumbled then resumed. Sixteen seemed a bit much for our small household.
“Thank you, Kara.” I focused on Mrs. Wimbly. “How much soft cheese do you estimate a single barrel will provide?”
“Miss Hovtel, I have duties assigned to me by Lord Ruhall. I can’t stand about chatting with you all day. If you’ll excuse me...” She left the room in a huff, and I stared after her.
Despite Mr. Crow’s admonition to treat me with respect, she seemed to be having a hard time of it. The why puzzled me as I’d been nothing but courteous to her.
“If you take all but three, there should be plenty,” Kara said softly, watching the door.
“Thank you.”
Once we had the wagon loaded—thankfully without Mrs. Wimbly returning—Swiftly helped me into my seat and clucked the horses to start our journey. While we navigated the drive, I kept a close watch on the barrels tied in the back to ensure they didn’t jostle overly much. After we reached the main road, I turned toward Swiftly.
“What business would Lord Ruhall have at the Water?”
“We are buying a dress,” he said with a slight smile.
“A dress? Why would Lord Ruhall need a dress?”
“He doesn’t. You do.”
“I have no coin. And if I did, I wouldn’t use it for a dress. I have two, which is twice as many as I’d like.”
Swiftly laughed.
“No need to worry about the coin,” he said, reaching up and tapping his chest. Metal jingled.
“Whose coin?”
“Lord Ruhall. He asked that I remind you the purpose behind the feast is to help support the community by paying for local goods.”
A concept I understood. However, supporting the community by impoverishing the estate would benefit no one. Rather than pointing that out, I decided to wait and see how much a new dress would cost. Since Blye had always made mine for me, I had no idea.
When we reached the trade street, the homes with children eagerly accepted the milk we offered. Barrels empty, we climbed aboard once more and rattled our way to the market district.
“Lord Ruhall thought you might want to try the seamstress at the end of the street,” Swiftly said as we approached my sister’s shop.
“No. I’d like to speak with Blye about the dress.”
Swiftly made an odd face but slowed the wagon before her shop. He helped me down and followed me to the door.
“I’ll wait here,” he said, opening it for me.
I nodded and stepped in. Blye stood folding handkerchiefs on a small table. She looked up at the sound of the door, and the welcoming smile on her face faded when she saw me. She was probably hoping for a paying customer. Which I was. I smiled at her.
“Hello, Blye. I’ve come to see if you have time to sew a dress for me.”
“Benella, I thought I said—” She glanced at the curtained door that no doubt led to the sewing room and started again. “No, I don’t have time.”
She’d been folding handkerchiefs. I doubted lack of time the reason. I studied her hard expression.
“Why?” I asked, unwilling to leave without hearing a reason for her attitude.
She released a slow breath with a shake of her head.
“Because I won’t associate with loose women.”
A small choking noise escaped me.
“And you consider me loose because a pig of a man almost raped me?”
“Benella, please. Just leave,” she said with another nervous glance at the back room. She lowered her voice. “And it would be better if you never came back.”
Her complete abandonment pierced me. I’d thought Bryn cruel; Blye was more so because she had no cause. Hers wasn’t misguided self-recrimination but rather the shallow concern of what her peers might think of her.
Without another word, I turned and left.
Outside, Swiftly spoke to a beautiful woman with long blonde hair. His scarlet face and averted eyes distracted me from my anger.
“Swiftly?”
“Benella,” the woman said with a small smile. Her voice sounded raspy and familiar. I studied her mouth and recognized Ila dressed in a simple, normal gown.
“I saw you and hoped we might talk.”
“I’d rather not,” I said with a glance at the Whispering Sisters’ house. The place I had once thought filled with friends now seemed a house of lies. And it made me wonder why Ila sought me out.
“Not there,” she said, following my gaze. “Just a walk if you think it suitable.”
“I’m not concerned with suitability as much as I am preservation. Aryana has done enough—”
“I’m not here for her. I’m here for you.”
Swiftly had watched our exchange; and when I looked at him in question, he shrugged.
“I will follow wherever you lead, Miss Hovtel.”
“Well, then. Come, Ila. Let’s walk.”
Side by side, we slowly paced north along the street.
“Are you well?” she asked softly.
“Well enough, I suppose. How are you? I’m surprised to see you about at this time.” It was nearing the hour when their clients would arrive.
“When news spread that Aryana was responsible for Lord Ruhall’s curse, many of our customers did not return.”
“I can hardly fault them.”
“Nor do I. But now, many of us find ourselves idle. Without Aryana there to ensure our future, some have left for other occupations, thanks to their education. Two had offers of marriage.”
“What do you mean? She’s not there?”
“She gave us all a small fortune and disappeared not long after...” Conversation halted for several moments. “I heard some of what your sister said to you and am afraid you will find the same welcome at many of the seamstresses here.”
“They condemn the wrong party,” I said with a frustrated exhale.
“They do.”
“It’s just as well. I wasn’t looking forward to another dress. I long for the days when I walked the woods in my sturdy shirt and trousers.”
Ila chuckled.
“If you’re willing, I would be glad to make your dress. We’ve grown adept at creating our own dresses because we’ve found the same welcome at most shops here.”
I stopped walking and turned to Ila. The sincerity in her gaze and her words filled me with enough compassion that I answered more kindly than I would have previously.
“I would be honored and will wear it proudly.”
She seemed relieved, and I wondered if boredom hadn’t prompted the offer.
“What does the future hold for you, Ila?”
She shrugged and looked around. “I wouldn’t mind finding a man willing to take me as I am.”
“I wouldn’t think that would be an issue. How old are you?”
She gave a small smile. “Almost twenty.”
“Plenty of time to meet a decent man.”
“Not here.”
I looked around and caught the long glances aimed our way.
“No, not here,” I said in agreement. “Come to Lord Ruhall’s feast and be my special guest. There will be many faces there that I think you might not yet have seen.”
Her smile widened. “I would be honored.”
“Now, do you need my measurements?”
She laughed. “No need. I know them well.”
“Payment?” I glanced at Swiftly.
He handed her the gold.
“I hope that’s enough,” I said with a question in my voice.
“It is. Your gown will be lovely.”
With nothing more to say, I nodded farewell and followed Swiftly back to the wagon.
He and I rode back in silence. My thoughts were heavy and unsuitable for company. My sisters shunned me; and though Ila sought me out, I wasn’t ready to trust her or count her among my friends. I could count Egrit as a frie
nd to an extent; however, she didn’t treat me as a peer. Her affection for me ran closer to savior and part errant ward. I realized I was quite friendless. Now, more than ever, I wished I could leave the North.
Swiftly dropped me off at the front door and clucked the horse to bring the wagon to the barn. I let myself in and closed the door behind me. Though I wanted nothing more than to escape to my room, I turned toward the laundry to help press the table linens. Neither Egrit nor Mrs. Palant commented on my subdued responses to their active conversation.
Lord Ruhall had Father fetch me for a stilted dinner where Father glanced at me often, a knowing sadness in his gaze. I wondered what Blye might have said to him when he had gone to the Water. No doubt she’d accepted the invitation well enough, just not Father’s presence. My heart was heavy for him as well.
Alec remained quiet throughout the meal, the set of his jaw becoming more tense with each moment until I finally excused myself.
With relief, I sought my bed.
* * * *
The sound of steps roused me. Someone moved about in my room. Before I could panic, Alec spoke softly.
“Why do you refuse to see I’m here?” Frustration laced his low words.
I knew he was speaking to himself. He didn’t understand. I did see him. I knew he was there. And my longing for who he used to be was destroying me.
The pacing stopped and the bed dipped. He wrapped me in his arms, and I stayed awake long after his breathing lulled.
* * * *
I lay in bed after waking. My heavy heart wouldn’t let me stand. I hated the need for the feast and my commitment to stay to see it through. I wanted to speak to my father and flee.
Pushing aside my despondency, I slid from bed. It was only when I stood and felt the air on my bare legs that I recalled I still slept in his shirt. Wrinkling my nose, I pulled it off over my head. It needed a washing. Though Egrit hadn’t commented on it during the many times she’d come to wake me, I thought it better to return it to Alec’s dirty laundry than to wash it myself.
After I washed and dressed, I strode across the room with the shirt. Perhaps it was time to put aside my memories of the beast. His return was unlikely, and my continued hope for it, unfair. Twisting the handle, I pulled the door wide and froze.
Lord Ruhall reclined in a bathing tub on a rug at the foot of his bed. The wide expanse of his bare shoulders had me staring stupidly. I’d never before seen a man without his shirt. Not true. I’d seen all of Gen at the Whisperings Sisters. My stomach dipped and heat flooded my face as I recalled every detail of that particular lesson.
At the sound of the door, Alec turned his head and caught my gaze. The move brought more of his back out of the water. I swallowed and averted my gaze slightly to his shoulder and the tiny red marks there. Deeply puckered scars. As I stared, the small crescent shapes took on meaning, and my world pitched.
“Benella? Are you all right?” His words broke through my revelation, and I struggled to recall my purpose.
“Yes. Quite. I wanted to return your shirt. It needs a wash.”
“Take a new one,” he said, leaning back in the water once more.
The wardrobe stood just a few feet from the tub. My mind in a jumble, I absently dropped the old shirt to the floor and went to the wardrobe to select a clean one from the several waiting within. As I closed the doors, something tugged on my skirt. I turned. Alec had an arm extended from the tub and held the material in his hand. He looked up at me, his expression masked.
“Could you bring the soap for me?” He pointed to his dressing table near the wardrobe.
I absently nodded, and he let go of my skirt.
What did the scars mean? Could I have been wrong?
The well-used cake of soap was small and made me feel so guilty that I couldn’t find a way around using estate gold for the feast. Soap in hand, I turned and brought it to Alec. The water did little to hide the strong length of his legs or the hard planes of his chest and stomach. He was so much bigger than Gen’s lean frame. So much more interesting to study.
“The soap?” Humor laced his words.
I shook myself and handed over the soap before rushing from the room. In my own chamber, I went to the window and stared out.
The marks were unmistakably fingernails. Only one person had set her hand on Alec’s shoulder. Rose. The morning the baker had almost raped me. Had Alec truly wanted to come to my aid? Though Rose posed no threat physically, her nails would have served as a reminder of what she could do with her magic. Why stop him, though?
The sun traveled the sky as I debated the possibilities. I needed to talk to someone. The only person left to me was Father. I knew he would listen, yet the reason behind the lackluster rescue of my near rape would be a potentially disquieting topic for him.
Sighing, I left my room and felt a small measure of guilt that I’d done nothing to help that day. Many of the rooms I passed had open doors and windows. Fresh air swept through the first and second floors.
I met Otta at the bottom of the steps.
“Otta, what are you doing out of the schoolroom?”
She looked nervous. I reached out, smoothed back the hair on her head, and gave her an encouraging smile.
“We stopped for the midday meal. Mrs. Wimbly had me deliver a tray to your father. I’m to return straight to Mr. Roost.”
“I’ll speak with Mr. Roost and Mrs. Wimbly. You should have no tasks during the day.”
“Thank you, Miss Hovtel,” she said before she scampered away.
As I continued toward the library, I heard what sounded like someone stomping on the floor. The sound came again. Not stomping. Something hitting the floor.
Lengthening my stride, I rounded the corner of the library door just in time to see a book sail from the study. It landed not far from the door with a loud bang. Cursing followed, punctuated by something hitting wood.
Father half-stood behind his desk, his shock clear. We looked at each other before I hurried to the study.
I ducked to dodge another book that Alec threw without seeing me. He was in a rage, his face red and his jaw clenched. He grabbed his chair and began to lift it high over his head.
“Alec,” I said. Shock robbed my voice of volume, yet he heard.
He froze at the sound of his given name and turned his angry gaze on me. His chest heaved, and his eyes were dark. My pulse leapt at the sight. How many times had I faced him like this?
Cautiously, I walked into the room.
“Set it down,” I said softly.
He yelled loudly and half-slammed the chair to the floor. I stepped further into the room and carefully approached him. I almost smiled. His mood reminded me so much of how he’d acted the time I’d locked myself in his room.
Once I reached him, I gently touched his face.
“What upsets you so?”
He closed his eyes, heaved a breath, and leaned his cheek into my hand. He stayed like that until some of the flush faded from his face. Pulling away from me, he reached for a crumpled piece of parchment and handed it to me.
Having a woman assist with your bath is not a wise decision. I am watching and will take from you all you hold dear if you continue with these transgressions. ~Rose
“I see,” I said, though I didn’t. How did fetching soap mean I had assisted with a bath? Aryana had assisted with my bath in a far more physical manner at the Whispering Sisters. Her assessment of the situation remained far from just. Then again, all her assessments seemed to run toward unjust. I thought of the marks on Alec’s shoulder as I glanced up at him.
He looked ready to start throwing things again. He didn’t seem cold at all, now, and I wondered if he ever had been. Could it be that he had only been trying to maintain control of himself? A control he still hadn’t mastered by the looks of it.
Though I agreed he had a reason to be upset, his way of showing his disagreement needed to stop.
I glanced at the door and saw Mr. Crow and Father there.
“Mr. Crow, would you bring some spring water to the library?” He nodded and left. “Father, would it bother you if I read aloud while you worked?”
“No. Not at all,” he said.
I turned back to Alec. “Would you care to listen to me read for a while?”
His gaze searched mine. So much anger and resentment churned there. Yet, I didn’t think any of it was for me. Should it be, though? Perhaps I had misunderstood him. Or perhaps regaining my affection was another game. After all, if I’d misunderstood, why hadn’t he come to see Father as Swiftly had said that day?
Instead of answering, Alec motioned for me to lead him out. I went to the couch before the fire and waited. He joined me with a book on farming. I smiled at the topic, recalling better times, and took the book from him. I reclined on the couch so my braid draped over the arm, and Alec sat on the floor. A moment later, I felt a tug on my braid, and I began.
Mr. Crow arrived with the pitcher and cups before I’d progressed more than a page. He quietly set everything on the table next to the tray already there, then withdrew as I continued reading about selective animal husbandry to create a stronger herd.
Alec’s fingers combed through my hair as I read, and I hoped it soothed him as much as he soothed me.
Finishing the chapter, I closed the book with a snap then waited.
“Thank you,” Alec said softly, removing his hands.
I sat up, moved over, and patted the spot beside me. He rose from the floor and took the seat.
“You have every right to be upset,” I said, reaching to pour him a cup of water. “However, destroying your study resolves nothing.” I handed him the cup and watched his expression.
His jaw clenched, but he nodded.
“She seems so fond of writing you notes. Write one back.” I helped myself to a meat pie and waited for his reaction.
“And what would I say to defend myself? She is correct. I shouldn’t have—” He looked down at his water.
“Alec,” I reached out and took his hand in mine, “you’re not the man you were. Don’t let her keep punishing you for a past you’ve already paid for.”
His hand tightened around mine a moment before he released me and walked back to his study, picking up the ejected book on his way.
