Beauty & Desire *on hold*

5

I creep into the dusty building wrinkling my nose at the overbearing stench of mold and body odor.

"No further Miss Claire," one of the Sheriff's men commands me and I come to a standstill. I turn in his direction taking in his dominating stance that looks ready to pounce at any slight move. His face is stern, his blonde hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail and his body is adorned in a blue waistcoat and pants that accentuated his tall figure. He was quite handsome if his hand wasn't hovering over a sword.

I brush off a speck of pretend dust off my blouse to appear at ease.
"I am here to see my father," I state my tone a lot more confident than I feel.

"Yes but you won't," the same man replies dismissively. "You are not allowed without the presence of a man from your home."

"That is not a law," I reply perplexed at the claim my mouth slack.

"It is my law," he sneers back at me.

I grind my teeth. "My father is the only man of my home so as you see that makes this situation difficult," I retort back irritated.

"Well then, you're out of luck."

I squeeze my hands into fists. "I would like to speak with Joseph..."

"He is occupied at the moment," the man cuts me off snidely snapping the sheathe of his sword shut.

I take a deep breath and look upwards at the ceiling counting my breaths. "Tell him it is Clarisse."

"He is occupied with another woman," he admits to me crossing his arms together loosening his imposing stance.

Of course, when I need his charms he is up with another woman. Most likely a prostitute knowing him and his frequent trips to the bath-house.

"Then I'll wait," I declare. He glowers opening his mouth to most likely say something even more barbarian so I sit down directly on the floor unladylike.

"Wha-what are you doing Miss! You cannot do that," he blusters racing towards me. I fold my arms turning my face.
"Stand up at once," he instructs staring angrily down at me. I shake my head refusing. He reaches under my arms pulling me up but I squirm and writhe under him making it difficult. He refuses to let go so I scream into the air.

Joseph bursts out at the commotion from the office only 10-feet away, his shirt astray and lipstick smeared on his lips. His eyes widen as he takes me in and he fixes his shirt so it completely covers his gut and wipes off the red lipstick.

"Unhand Miss Claire, Martin," he orders the man still gripping me. The young man, Martin, immediately releases me backing away hiding into the shadows.

"Miss Claire, follow me," he commands and I nod. I stand up obediently following him. Once a few feet away he finally turns to me his face a stone of ice.

"We already discussed this. It is over. I already offered you a warning but it is now too late," he leans towards me whispering. "The men are coming after your father so he is now safer in prison than out in town. I am doing you a favor."

"Absolutely not. He is not safer in prison. He will not survive. They will hang him or send him to Fleet," I cry in protest.

"It is not of my concern. I did my duty as Sheriff. I will hold him here until they decide where to send him."

I huff. They can't just take him away. Would I ever even see him again? I cannot afford trips to the debtors prison on Fleet if thats where they send him. Even though he has not always been the best father to me, he is all I have. I will not let them take him. I try to appeal to Joseph's side that actual cares about me.

"But what about me Joseph? They will only let me keep my home for so long without a man. What will I do?"

He pauses. "You will marry me of course," he says giving me a smug smile, his mustache curling up.

"What about that lady you were just with," I say trying to steer him away from the thought, completely terrified he will latch onto to the idea. Joseph in his early 20s wants to settle down, but I cannot picture myself ever being on his side, a dutiful picture-perfect housewife.

"She was some whore, no one to bother your pretty head about. You are way more beautiful to be on my side."

I cringe. This man is disgusting. I take back a step, but he grabs my hands pulling me back.

"We can start planning a wedding and getting married by the end of the month," he urges. I shake my head in disagreement. "Yes it will be perfect." He says not even looking at my face, his eyes racing down the length of me.

"No" I say sternly. His grip tightens on my arms, but I refuse to make a weak noise.

"What do you mean no? You do realize what is happening, right? No one will want you after this. You will be dirt on the ground. I can protect you."

"I don't need your protection. What I need is my father." His face swells in shock and I use it to quickly release out of his grip and sprint. I race down the length of the cells glancing each way frantically. Most are occupied with more then a few people in each cell, men, women, and children all scattered about. I search each cell ignoring some of the men's voices and whispers. I know that I will be able to recognize my father immediately. I halt in my tracks when I spot a ball in the corner of a back cell. My father's form is shriveled up, his face severely bruised and swollen. His back is hunched and there is dried blood in his beard and splattered against his clothes. His ankle looks twisted in a misshapen way. I let out a cry and run to the bars gripping them.

"Father" I scream.

His eyes blink open to me. "Hi Claire" he manages to say, very slowly trying to get to a sitting position.

I hear Joseph's pounding steps from behind me, but all I see is my broken father before my eyes.

"What happened?" I ask distraught.

"What I had coming," his voice raspy.

A tear rolls down my cheek. "I can fix this," I say trying to form a plan. He attempts to shake his head, but coughs at the effort.

"How much, father?" I ask pleadingly.

He stares at me solemnly but remains silent. The Sheriff now behind me pulls me back by my wrists.

"How much," I scream, but he curls back into his ball and I begin to silently cry.

Joseph pulls me along and before I know it I am at the door of the jail. I wipe my face and turn towards Joseph who's face is set in an angry scowl. I hold back anymore of my tears noticing his lack of sympathy.

"How much does my father owe?" I demand.

"There is no way you could possibly come up with that kind of money in your lifetime."

"How much!" He stares at me his lip curling in a sneer, disliking me shouting at him.

"A thousand pounds, Claire," he tells me in a scornful tone. I gasp stepping backwards almost losing my balance.

"A thous-thousand pounds?" I stutter. I barely have five shillings to my name. How in the world would I gather a thousand pounds.

"You see Claire, a lost cause and when it finally hits you, I will be here waiting and I will expect a grand apology and a kiss that makes up for it. Now, I have matters to finish. Good day Clarisse," he says and slams the door in my face as I barely manage to get away before he crushes my toes. I gaze blinking at the door. A thousand pounds. I want to bawl my hands in fist and bang my hands against the door crying and screaming until they let him out, but I don't do any of that. Instead I mutter over and over in my head 'a thousand pounds' as I sulkily walk to my hut.