Depravity: A Beauty and the Beast Novel (A Beastly Tale Book 1)

by M. J. Haag

  “Benella,” said the baker. “Still lovely in your dress. Is your father home? I would like to speak with him.”

  My legs shook. I knew the topic of conversation he wanted to have with my father but assured myself that Father understood my distaste of the man.

  “Come in,” I managed without a quaver. I stepped aside and let him into the kitchen.

  “Wait here, please.”

  Leaving him to criticize Bryn’s biscuits, I tapped on Father’s door. Without waiting for his call to enter, I stepped in, quickly closing the door behind me.

  Father looked up from his book in surprise. He still wore his jacket and simple neckcloth. Papers from his few students lay spread out on his desk.

  “What is the matter, dearest?”

  “He’s here,” I whispered in a panic. “The baker. He saw me in this senseless dress today.” I gave the skirt an agitated shake. “Now, he wants to speak with you.”

  “Ah,” Father murmured distractedly. “Perhaps, once he’s in the study with me, you’d like to go for a long stroll and forego dinner?” I nodded emphatically, liking the way Father thought. The baker, now that he had come to state his intentions, would not leave easily.

  I opened the door and called to the baker. Given the size of our small cottage, he had no trouble finding me. Despite stepping aside, he still brushed against me as he passed; and this time, I couldn’t suppress my shiver of revulsion. His low throaty chuckle drifted to me as I closed the door.

  With a quick step, I checked on Blye’s progress, hoping to change before I left, but she still sat in the room placing careful stitches. In the kitchen, Bryn removed the biscuits from the oven.

  “May I have one?” I asked, grabbing my bag from the hook.

  She made no comment about my leaving, just wrapped a biscuit in a cloth and handed it over. I fled the cottage quietly, hoping the baker wouldn’t hear my escape.

  The woods didn’t feel the same as I wandered beneath their swaying limbs. The skirts encircling my legs made passage difficult. I had to avoid stretching bramble and muddied paths and made far too much noise as I moved.

  When I finally reached the spot in the estate wall where the rocks had fallen, I saw nothing to harvest. Though the walk had felt torturously long, I doubted enough time had passed to see the baker gone from the cottage. Deciding a walk in the dark didn’t bother me, I turned east to make a full circuit around the wall, but a sound to the west stopped me.

  A creak of wood and the crush of gravel under iron drew me toward the gate where a cart fixed with a long pole like a mast waited. The gate stood open and the cart sat just outside of it. Had someone from the estate pushed it out? What a peculiar cart. I caught sight of a tangle of freshly shorn vines laying loose at the base of the pole and felt my stomach twist. The pole, the cart, the vines...I’d seen it all before when the men had attempted to sack the estate. They’d meant to tie the beast to it and burn him. Instead, they’d been run or thrown from the estate and had abandoned the wagon, which had been later retrieved by the smith.

  Turning to flee, I crashed into something solid.

  “Just the person we wanted to see,” Tennen murmured, clamping his hands down on my upper arms. “I thought you might run when the baker came calling.”

  I lifted my knee to hit his groin, but my skirts hampered the move, and I only grazed him. Still, he bent slightly, bringing his head close to mine. I jerked forward, hitting his head with my own. His hands left my arms, and I tried to run. However, the knock I’d given myself against his hard head turned me around, and I stumbled straight into Splane’s waiting arms. After witnessing his brother’s abuse, he quickly spun me so I faced away from him.

  “Bitch!” panted Tennen, holding his nose with one hand while reaching for the vines with the other. “I hope the beast rips you open.”

  His sudden punch to my stomach caught me off guard. I barely noticed Splane’s abandonment of his hold as the need to draw in a breath occupied me. Tennen roughly grabbed my wrists, pulled them behind my back, and tied them as I remained bent over in pain. Together the brothers hauled me onto the cart. I caught my breath enough to struggle, but it did no good. They lifted me over their heads and struggled to thread the pole through my bound arms.

  “Idiots,” I said when they finally stepped back, sweating and red-faced from their efforts. “You should have tied my wrists together after you had me in front of the pole.”

  They ignored me and jumped from the wagon. I listened to them grunt as they began to push the cart through the gates. Not again, I thought, eyeing the beast’s domain.

  Desperate, I leaned forward so my wrists pulled against the wood, then tried to place a foot on the pole, hoping to boost myself up and perhaps climb to the top. My heel slipped on my skirts.

  “I hope the beast catches you!” I screamed at them, no longer caring if he heard the noise we were making. Oh, I still feared him but preferred he catch all of us and not just me. Perhaps I would then have a chance.

  They laughed as the cart stopped moving. Facing the estate, I saw nothing but overgrown vegetation and trees. I twisted, trying to see Tennen and Splane. Instead, I heard the creak of the gate as they pulled it closed.

  “We’re not afraid of that thing,” Tennen said, a distance behind me.

  “Bold words for little men standing outside the gate,” I said. “Come inside and see if you fare so well. Do your own dirty work instead of waiting for someone else to do it for you!”

  “Someone? You mean something. This is the third time for you, isn’t it, Benella? You won’t bother us again.”

  Tennen spoke the truth, and I struggled against the thin vines binding my wrists. The beast would not forgive a third trespass. I wriggled and writhed and panted as I fought against my binding. Pain bit into my wrists with each frantic tug and twist, and my fingers grew slick. My hair came loose from its long braid and tangled in front of my face, obscuring my vision.

  Tennen’s laughter taunted me and my pathetic struggles until the sound abruptly stopped. I stilled and tried blowing the hair from my eyes. For a fraction of a moment, I caught a glimpse of black eyes and brown fur before my hair once again blocked my view. I froze. The beast. He was here, mere feet away.

  The dark trees around us had gone eerily quiet as if holding their breath. The silence allowed the low rumble of the beast’s growl to echo, surrounding me with his menace.

  A scrape against the ground and a faint creak of the wood was all the warning I had before the beast pushed the cart and sent it flying to crash upon the gate. The bone-jarring stop rattled my teeth as my head smacked back against the pole. The momentum sent me forward again, a sudden jerk stopped by my tied wrists. The vines bit deep, and I grunted in pain.

  Behind me, Splane squealed like a girl a moment before I heard their hurried retreat. I laughed groggily as my ears rang and the world spun from the thump to my head.

  “Two little girls, that’s what they are. They should be wearing a dress,” I mumbled, wincing at the pain at the base of my skull.

  “Why have you returned?” asked an angry voice in a deep scraping growl.

  He could speak? With a curtain of hair in the way and my vision not cooperating, I closed my eyes in defeat.

  “That should be apparent, I’d think. To die.”

  “Why do you wish for death so badly?” the voice asked. Some of the anger had faded from it and was replaced by curiosity.

  “Does it look to you like I came here by choice?” A harsh laugh escaped me. “It’s not my wish, but theirs, that I die.”

  The longer I stood there, the more my injuries started calling attention to themselves. My shoulders ached from their position and the recent collision with the gate. My wrist oozed blood and my stomach twisted with nausea. His silence along with everything else made my next words dangerously impudent.

  “Recent events having left me in a poor mood, I’d rather not waste any more time on idle conversation. I hurt everywhere and thin
k I may vomit soon so, please, just be done with it.”

  The vines around my wrists loosened, and I fell forward onto something hard, furry, and warm. Draped over the beast, I realized, a moment before we were moving.

  Sadly, I vomited before fainting.

  * * * *

  “...should I?”

  The shrill voice cut through the fog clouding my mind, and I blinked my eyes open to stare at the rough shingled roof blurring above me. A growl filled the air, and my stomach lurched, not from the growl, but from the sour taste lingering in my mouth. I gagged.

  “Leave us,” the feminine voice commanded.

  A door slammed, and I turned on my side to dry heave. A gentle hand ran over my hair, lingering on the spot at the back of my head where I’d smacked against the pole.

  “There’s the problem. Let’s sit you up.”

  She leveraged a thin, wiry arm behind my shoulders and helped me sit. Slowly, my vision cleared and an aged, haggard face filled the space before me. White hair twisted tightly behind her head and pulled the skin of her face, smoothing a few of the deeper creases. Her brilliant green eyes glinted at me with cold humor.

  “Got in the way of something, I’d say,” she murmured, leaning in close, her gaze shifting back and forth to study mine. “Best to stay awake tonight. You’ll feel sick, which is normal. Drink lightly. Don’t eat until your stomach stops twisting.”

  Without mercy, she tugged me to my feet. The ground tilted and heaved, and I spread my stance wide to keep from falling.

  “Smart girl,” she said with a laugh. “Too bad he brought you to me. You can’t stay here. Out you go.” She nudged me toward the door.

  The stomach I’d thought empty heaved again, and I left a gift on her floor before I managed to clear the threshold. Her insulting laughter rang out behind me before the door closed and silence enveloped me.

  Reaching out, I braced myself on the door. Night had claimed the sky and the half-moon weakly highlighted the area, not that it did me any good. The pain in my head clouded my vision. How would I manage a walk home, especially when I didn’t know where I was? I recalled the beast’s growl and knew I had to be somewhere within the estate. South, then, was the way to go. I lifted my head to the moon, trying to focus enough to get my bearings.

  I took a lurching step away from the door, my skirt swishing through the grass. Within seven steps, I heaved again, and my eyes watered. The muscles in my stomach protested, and I wished for a cool drink to rinse my mouth. Instead, I received a growl.

  “Vomit on me again, and you will suffer,” he said before he swung me over his shoulder. The grass flew past us, and I clenched my teeth as blood rushed to my head and pulsed in my ears. My vision clouded, and I knew I’d faint again and wondered if that counted as sleeping. The beast sensed something, though, because he stopped his run, and I found myself standing before him in the shadowy light beneath a tree.

  “What did she say?” he demanded.

  When the world tilted, I didn’t try widening my stance. Instead, I let my weak knees fold and sat heavily on the ground.

  “Don’t sleep or eat until my stomach stops twisting. Drink lightly and get out.” I partially groaned as I struggled to my knees and heaved again, aggravating my stomach muscles and the lump on the back of my head. I spit weakly and let my head hang.

  “Running upside down made it worse,” I said, swiping at my lips.

  “You blame this on me?” His low growl increased in volume and clicked with menace as he crept close to me.

  “Well, it was your fault that I hit the back of my head against the pole. Before that, only my wrists bled.”

  He roared in response, which brought back the ringing in my ears. I paid his anger little mind as I sought refuge from my pain in the cool grass and closed my eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going to sleep.”

  “The witch said not to.”

  “And you just roared at me. So what? If I die, I die. I’m tired of being bullied by you and the idiots in the village. If I live, so be it. At least, I’ll have had a few moments of peace.”

  His feet padded softly, rustling the grass and scraping the dirt until he stopped behind me. Lying on my side with my face cushioned by my arm, I’d saved the back of my head from touching the ground, but also left it open to the beast’s inspection. He huffed a great breath, blowing my hair over my face. Then he began to lick the lump he’d made.

  I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me as the ache eased and the twisting in my stomach faded.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He grunted and kept licking for several more minutes. Without the nausea, it lulled me to sleep.

  Four

  “CAW!”

  I bolted upright at the loud cry in my ear. My stomach muscles protested at their overuse, and I suffered a brief period of disorientation. I recalled the night before and studied my surroundings. The shaded glade only sported a few tufts of low growing grass on the outskirts. A soft patch grew in the center where the sun struck at midday, the very patch on which I’d previously reclined until the crow, hopping on the ground a few feet away, had rudely woken me.

  The crow cawed at me again, but I ignored it as I struggled to my feet. The aches of the night before lingered in my shoulders and stomach but remained absent elsewhere, drawing my attention to the smooth and unblemished skin of each wrist. The memory rose of how the beast had eased the ache in my head. I glanced around the glade but felt certain only the crow and I entertained it now.

  Given the dangerously unpredictable nature of the beast, I thought it best to keep my company to myself, and I began to carefully pick my way through the trees, heading toward the general area of the gate. As soon as I started walking, the crow took flight only to land on a branch ahead of me. I ignored the bird for the most part since it kept quiet when it flew but listened closely to the surrounding wood as I made slow progress through the estate lands.

  It didn’t surprise me when I spotted the gate ahead and it grated open on its own, the estate obviously ready to be rid of me. Of the beast, there was no sign. Muddied and disheveled, I made my way home in dawn’s first light.

  * * * *

  A familiar gasp greeted me when I opened the kitchen door. Behind me, a furious flutter of wings sounded, prompting me to ignore Bryn’s incredulous stare and quickly close the door before the annoying crow decided to let itself in. It cawed at me through the wood.

  “Benella,” Bryn finally managed to cry. “Father’s been so worried.” She stood by the stove with an apron wrapped around her dress. Eggs fried in a pan, and a small crock of fresh goat’s milk already rested on the table, waiting for Father.

  The study door opened, and Father hurried out fully dressed for the day, his expression putting truth to Bryn’s statement. His eyes swept me and relief erased the worry.

  “When I mentioned a walk, I didn’t think you’d stay out all night, child,” he said mildly, seeing me whole and healthy.

  “An unplanned event to be sure,” I said. “I ran into a bit of dirt and will need another bath.”

  Bryn gave a small, exasperated huff.

  “I can’t haul water for you again, Benella. I’m supposed to go with Tennen to—”

  “Bryn,” Father said softly. “I’m sure it wouldn’t over trouble you to help with two small buckets, just enough to rinse the dirt from your sister’s hair.” As he spoke, he circled me and lifted the hair on the back of my head.

  “Surely this unplanned event had a few interesting turns,” he murmured for my ears only.

  I gave the barest of nods, and he stepped back from me. I appreciated that he didn’t question me further.

  “At least the dress survived unscathed,” he said.

  Blye harrumphed from the doorway of our room. She’d joined us so quietly I hadn’t noticed her.

  “Its hem is stained with mud. I wouldn’t call that unscathed.”

  “Better than ripped,”
Father said in a tone that didn’t allow for argument. “Benella, I would speak with you before I leave about an errand I need you to run. Would you mind stepping into my study before you wash?”

  “Of course, Father,” I said, more than willing to escape my sisters’ pique.

  He surprised me by not asking of my night once he closed the door behind us.

  “I apologize for asking this of you, but I need a message delivered to the Head in Water-On-The-Bridge as soon as possible.”

  The request disheartened me. The walk would take me most of the day there and back, and sleeping on the ground the prior night had done little to leave me feeling rested. But, I reasoned with myself, a whole day with no other obligations might be nice. I rolled my shoulders, feeling the ache in the joints, and tested my stomach. Nothing I couldn’t handle. So, I nodded my agreement. Outside the window, a crow squawked.

  “Fetch your mended shirt from Blye. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in it,” he said. “See me when you’re ready to leave.”

  I nodded and quietly crept to my room. After carefully closing the door, I looked around the room. My shirt lay neatly on the thin comforter of my narrow bed. Something about it looked odd, but I couldn’t determine what when I lifted it up. As usual, Blye’s stitches ran small and straight, making it impossible to see where she’d made any change. I slipped out of the dress and pulled on my trousers then bindings.

  Outside, I heard a flutter of wings; and as I looked up at the partially shuttered window, the crow used his beak to make room for himself on the ledge. Blye opened the door behind me before I could shoo the crow away.

  “Did you try it on?” she asked impatiently.

  I turned away from the voyeuristic crow and shrugged my arms into the shirt. It fit, but it pulled snugly from shoulder to shoulder across the back. Frowning, I closed the front and began to button it up, seeing the problem immediately. The shirt buttons strained to close the gap between the front two panels and created small spaces where anyone could see my bindings or stomach for that matter.