Beast and Beatrice

Chapter one - Beatrice

A gasp flew from her lips. Stabbing pain beneath her ribcage forced her to a stumbling halt. With a shaking hand, she gripped her side, trying to relieve some of the pain as she leaned one shoulder against a wide tree-trunk. If only she could rest a moment. But she dare not.

He was out there somewhere. She knew it. Desperately her gaze skipped from tree to tree, searching, straining to pierce the darkness. There was no sign of him, yet she knew he was out there, somewhere. Slinking from shadow to shadow, dogging her every step through these woods. She had seen him through the trees. Like some demon wraith from out of the pit. A distorted, hulking beast, massive and lumbering. Grotesque in face and form. Not that she'd caught more than a glimpse of him, engulfed as he was in the shadowy folds of that hooded black cloak.

Her vision suddenly blurred and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the fog. She was so tired her head felt fuzzy, like it was stuffed with cotton. Her legs trembled with exhaustion, barely holding her upright  even with the massive tree-trunk at her back. The heart beneath her breast was beating so hard, it felt like it would leap right out of her chest. Whether from fear or exertion, it was impossible to tell. A trickle of perspiration beaded on her forehead and she wiped the damp away with her palm.  She licked dry lips and tried to swallow but her throat was scratchy and raw. A racking cough had her bending in half, searching for air. The soggy heaviness in her lungs made it doubly difficult to breathe. Like a solid brick sitting on her chest.

She clearly was unwell and shouldn't be out here, lost in the wilderness. She had been running through these woods forever and yet she didn't seem to be making any headway. Nothing looked even vaguely familiar. Not that she could see much more than shadowy woods. All was cloaked in darkness, making it doubly difficult to find her way. And the dense forest seemed determined to frustrate her progress. Skeleton-like limbs constantly caught at her clothes, snatching at her arms, leaving scratches and welts all over her tender skin. Ugly nobby roots jumped from the ground, intent on tripping her. But she couldn't stop. It was imperative to keep moving.

If only she could locate some kind of shelter. A crofters hut or grounds keepers cottage. Surely there must be some friendly soul nearby who would offer safe sanctuary to a lost and weary woman. But there didn't seem to be anything remotely habitable among the trees. She was absolutely lost. How had she come to be so far from home?

Home, where it was warm and cozy and safe. Home with the children, where she always was at this time of night. Seated on the bed, reading a bedtime story, before tucking them all in for the night. The three darlings were so starved for affection. She struggled to fill in the gap by showering them with all the love she had to give. She couldn't love them any more if they were her very own.

They would surely be missing her by now. She was certain young Teddy was coming down with something. He'd complained his head hurt this morning. He certainly should not have been taken out of the house but Sissy had insisted and, as she was their mother, there was nothing Beatrice could say about it. The moment Mr. Narwhal arrived, Sissy was ushering the children out the door, leaving Beatrice alone with that lecherous old man.

He was conceited beyond belief and perhaps he had some justification. After all, he owned the only Mercantile in the little town of Windkirk and he was never loath to flaunt his success. This also lead him to feel entitled to take anything he desired. And apparently he had decided he wanted Beatrice. His advances were becoming increasingly aggressive and frightening. Every time he came to visit, he took the opportunity to grope her person. She often suffered bruises on her skin and damp blotches on her dress from his sweaty hands. Nothing she did seemed to deter the man. Her reluctance only seemed to entice him to be more ardent in his pursuit.

She feared offending him by outright denying his advances. After all, they owed Mr. Narwhal a considerable debt. If he decided to call in all that was owed to him, they could all be out on the street in an instant. And Mr. Narwhal was fully capable of it. She just couldn't understand how Sissy could encourage the merchant's interest.