She woke to the sound of an explosion. It jarred her from a beautiful, golden dream of a magnificent garden and sent her stumbling toward the window. She was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she pushed the yellowed curtains aside and wrenched open the window. Another explosion rocked the cottage, and for the briefest of moments she considered what being an orphan would be like. Then her father stumbled up from the cellar, baptized in the smoke of his latest flawed invention. "Papa!" She cried, relief flooding her tone with joy. "Papa, what on earth are you doing?"
Her door opened with a slam. "You know he's making something to ruin us even more," Said her elder sister Laura, tossing her heavy blonde hair over one shoulder. While somewhat jealous of her sister's fine looks, it wasn't a hassle to go without what it took to get them. She draped herself in the finest fabrics, which was a pretty penny in itself, but of course she right out demanded it to be dyed in the most ridiculous of colors. Blood reds and ruby, even a few in deep purple and lapis.
Pauline swept in behind her, Laura's twin in everything but age. Thankfully she was a tad more resigned, and while she took whatever styles Laura insisted she wear, she clung to earthier greens and yellows. With skillful fingers she began an elaborate twist and finished it off with Laura's typical red ribbon, all the while her eldest sister stepped closer to the window to peer down at their father. "He is making a fool of this family. I don't know why you encourage him, little sister. You're almost as bad as he is," Pauline nodded in agreement.
"Laura, you promised to introduce me to that handsome man you met last week! I even got up early. Aren't we going?" She crossed her arms and pouted, her full lips pursing in the prettiest of ways. "Or must we invite Belle? Look at her, she's still in her shift!"
"Thank you, but no. I have a few things to do around the farm first. Papa looks like he needs a bit of help," Her sisters left quickly, leaving her to wash and tie up her own long hair. She preferred being alone with their father. When he worked as a merchant seeing him was a rare occurrence. As a child the stories he brought were more valuable than the treats. The small women with the voices as sharp as bells, who gifted him with tea and skeins of silk were as fascinating as the lizards he returned with from the deserts. Then someone in London had gone on to tell him all about inventions and how wonderfully creative he could be and, well, he hadn't set foot on a ship since.
She ran her hands over her few dresses, her fingers catching on almost half a dozen holes. A few of his toys had taken off, but hadn't earned more than would feed them and their horses. Belle pulled her favorite dress, one of the softest wool in the lightest of blues, and frowned at several large holes on the front. She pulled it over her shift and found a clean apron to hide the damage, then slipped on a pair of stiff black shoes. Belle made it out to the barn just as her sisters did, their faces made up almost beyond recognition.
"Papa, you cannot sell the blue carriage! How else are we to get into town? It's nearly five miles! Do you mean us to take the black?" Laura pressed a hand to her heaving chest and Belle hid a smile. Admitting it had been her idea was the last thing on her -
"Darling, Belle suggested it," The look her sister cast her way would have frozen the fire in the hearth. "It would keep us from having to sell all the horses. I know the blue carriage was your mother's but it shall fetch a higher price!" Her father was not a strong or willful man. His back was bent with the demands of his daughters, and when their mother had been around it had bent beneath hers as well. His grey hair and liver spotted hands made him look much older than his fifty years, and the cough he was developing wasn't eased by his experiments. Belle gave her father a kiss on the cheek and slipped around him to Philippe's stall. The large horse stomped one foot and nudged her shoulder, seeking out a treat. She stroked his mane as her family argued.
"So you're truly going to sell it?" Pauline asked, stepping up with a smile. "Could you bring me back a new skein of fabric for a gown? Or a new corset?"
"Of course, I'll have enough money to bring you all back -"
"Oh Papa, why didn't you say something? I know exactly what I'd like!"
And that was that. Belle looked on as her father was set upon by demand after demand, all with him promising again and again that he could certainly bring it back for them. Her heart sunk to her toes as her sisters climbed into the blue carriage for one last trip and left for town, their smaller white horses in the lead. Her father sadly trudged back into the cottage while she finished her chores, mucking out the stall and adding fresh hay to the cool earth floor. She tended to her garden, pulling weeds and pruning roses until her fingertips were raw and the skin on the back of her neck was pink.
"Father, will selling the blue carriage be enough?" She inquired, bringing in an apron full of eggs from the chickens and wild mushrooms from where they clucked about. Her deep brown eyes were troubled as they focused on her dirty hands. "I suppose you would be taking Nieve with you, she does make it look quite beautiful," She stepped outside to wash her hands and returned to find her father slicing the mushrooms. A black pot filled with water hung over the fire, and after a sniff tossed in a fistful of dried basil swinging just above her head.
"I hope it should. I may return to being a merchant," He tossed the mushrooms into the pot and added a bit of salt. Belle countered with leeks and a bit of salted beef they had left, as well as half a dozen chopped potatoes. "An old acquaintance of mine says that a ship is coming into port with a load I may take on. I may return us to the wealth we once enjoyed," He patted her hand and made his way upstairs while Belle made work on a set of savory cakes to go along with the soup. After serving a late breakfast to her father and some for herself, the two made quick work of the rest of the chores. The beds were aired, clothes were washed, floors were scrubbed to shining. Her father retreated back to the cellar with promises of no more explosions. She exercised Philippe with a quick gallop across the meadow, pausing to gather more wild mushrooms and several bunches of wild flowers to decorate the interior of their comfortable home.
It was while she was out on the meadow that the bells tolled. The wonderful, marvelous bells that no one could place. They rang out through the valley and even the birds seemed to pause in their song. They were sweet, yet somber, and if she listened hard enough she was sure she could actually hear singing. It took everything in her to not lie down and waste the day away there. Still she dawdled, and plucked a bouquet of wildflowers while Philippe grazed. By the time she returned home, the blue carriage was in its place and she could hear the peals of her sisters' laughter from inside. What she didn't expect was the rich baritone that joined them. She led Philippe back into his stable and gave him a quick brushing, eying a strange black horse suspiciously. Who was their guest?
"Papa, I'm home. Did you invite someone from...the village?" His black hair was pulled tight at the nape of his neck. It gave her a perfect view of his hard, square jaw and the hypnotizing blue eyes that moved between her sisters. While his face was shaved clean, as smooth as her own even, a bit of dark hair peeked at her from his tightly buttoned shirt. Thick cords of muscle roped his bare arms. If not for the fact that he had a pair of disgusting boots on the table her father had built, she would have welcomed the company. Her father was not in the room, but both of her sisters were seated comfortably with the stranger.
"Oh, Gaston this is our little sister. Belle, Gaston came to call on us today. We met him in town and he was so fascinated with Papa's inventions that he came right over!" He stood then, towering so far over her she had to crane her neck to look up at him. He stepped forward and lifted one of her limp, burning hands to his lips and graced it with a kiss. Belle blushed so furiously that Pauline nudged the back of her knee with one pointed shoe.
"Belle..." The way he rolled her name across his tongue had her smiling. "You are as beautiful as your name. Your father tells me you were the one who prepared our supper?"
She glanced at the empty soup pot, with a myriad of dishes stacked beside it, and nodded. "Yes, I hope you enjoyed it."
"Very much. I've seen your sisters in the village many times before, but never you. You don't join them, cherie?" He led her to a seat then took his own again, but he didn't kick her feet up onto the table. She took the opportunity to reach forward and wipe the surface clean.
"No, my Papa has so much he's working on that I take care of the cottage." She smoothed her dirty skirt over her knees and crossed her ankles. "Things used to be different, but I act as the woman of the house now." The moment she said it she wished she'd held her tongue. Laura's cheeks had gone red and her lips were pressed so tightly together they may have actually disappeared for a moment. A second later however, and Laura's trill laughter rang through the house.
"You? The woman of the house? Belle, sometimes I think you forget you're the youngest. It's good that you stay to help Papa. The lady of the house certainly wouldn't. Mama never did. Now, as the true woman of the house I'm asking you to take care of this mess. Won't you clean it up?" She waved her hand at the mess and Belle eagerly complied. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and tried hard not to feel Gaston's eyes on her. She'd never had this type of attention from any man before and she wasn't sure if she wanted it.
He stayed for well over an hour, the end of which time she'd settled into her favorite chair with a hefty book. She was lost in her thoughts when Gaston abruptly plucked the book from her hands. "You read?" He asked scornfully, flipping through the pages so fast he almost tore them from the spine. "What for? There's no purpose to it." Belle felt her eyebrows pulling together into a glare. Was he...insulting her? If nothing else he was insulting her favorite book and that was just as bad. She opened her mouth to reply, but only managed a strangled gasp as he tossed the book behind him and onto the table. The spine hit one corner before tumbling to the floor with a loud thump. Laura and Pauline giggled.
"Oh Gaston, don't tease. She has such a love of her books that I fear she forgets she doesn't live in them." Laura said, coming up to take his arm. "Please don't let our boorish sister turn you away. Next time we'll have a lovely cake, and if you can bring a nice stag I'll have her roast it for you. She is good for cooking and mending if not company." Laura cast a scornful frown over her shoulder as she walked Gaston out to the stable and Belle retrieved her book.
She couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes as she gently took the book up to her room. Laura was right. She didn't live in her books, but she wanted to. She wanted to more than anything.