Chapter 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast.
When Belle woke this time, she was alone. The chair was empty, and the fire had been banked. She rolled over and stared up at the canopy. For a moment, all that would really come to mind was that she'd never been in a bed this comfortable in her life.
Then her brain caught up with the events of the past few days. She sat up sharply. There was light poking through the heavy curtains from two windows. She hadn't noticed this before, which probably meant it had been night when she'd spoken to Lord Garoux. But how many days or nights had passed since she'd been left in the snow?
How long have I been here?
She swung her legs to the floor, relieved to find her past weakness just a memory in her muscles. Rest and food had restored her. Speaking of food…
Her stomach growled. She was hungry again. And since no one seemed to be appearing to provide any, searching was definitely in order. Belle found her shoes tucked beneath the bed and pulled them on. There was nothing she could do about the ragged state of her clothes, if indeed there were other people in this castle besides Lord Garoux to see her. It was time to find out.
Belle pushed open the door to her room and peered out. A perfectly ordinary hallway, empty. The place was much bigger and much grander than she'd ever thought to imagine, but definitely empty. Eerily so, as it was clearly built for a lot of activity. Belle felt the force of the emptiness and silence as soon as she stepped out of the more intimate confines of the bedroom. She shivered. There was something sad and incredibly lonely about this castle. And also, if she was honest deep within herself, vaguely threatening. If she'd had to describe a place that was haunted, it would have been of something like this. Maybe not on this scale, but the atmosphere was right. It was just too quiet.
But this was no time to be squeamish and hide in her room like a child. She was hungry, and besides, she was curious. Squaring her shoulders, Belle walked purposefully down the hall, whistling a little to keep herself from becoming too intimidated. Dust rose up around her feet. She looked down at the carpet, and found another pair of footprints leading the direction she was heading. Hopefully Lord Garoux's prints would lead to the kitchen.
The footprints led to a vast entrance hall. Sunlight streamed in through myriad high windows, but like the halls before it, the entranceway was all empty. Belle made her way down the grand staircase, one hand on the finely carved balustrade. Even though her hand got dirty, it was worth it to momentarily pretend she was a fine lady descending for a grand ball.
Reality returned when she reached the floor and came face to face with the true size of the entrance hall. For all her imaginings, she really was just an ordinary girl in grimy old clothes. She stood still at the bottom of the stairs and just looked at it all, quaking a little.
An enormous growl from her stomach finally distracted her from her overawe. The angry rumble was so loud it actually echoed a bit. Belle couldn't suppress a nervous giggle, but she was also spurred to continue exploring. There were more sets of dust-footprints on the floor leading into several different rooms, though they were all the same footprints, the ones she'd been following from her room. It really was true that no one else lived in the entire place.
How long has it been like this? And how did no one ever notice in the village that the castle was practically empty except for its master?
This place puzzled her more and more the longer she thought about it. It almost made her wish she could stay and try to figure it all out. But that was foolish. Her Papa and Monsieur Cuir thought she was dead in the snow. She needed to go home.
But first and foremost she needed food. Picking one of the sets of footprints at random, Belle followed them to one of the sets of doors. Pushing a door cautiously open and ignoring the squeaky hinges, she could see that this was a dusty parlor. An enormous thronelike chair sat before a massive fireplace, flanked by low couches. An intimate space meant for visiting that clearly hadn't been used in some time. Belle closed the door and tried another set.
This one opened into a long dining hall. Much more promising. Belle pushed the double doors fully open and entered the room. She'd never seen such a massive table. Though there was nothing on it now, it was easy to picture it spread with a sumptuous feast. Sideboards placed strategically around the room would have held even more dishes. There was another massive fireplace in this room, a match for its twin across the grand hall. On each end of the long room were more sets of doors. Belle chose one and peeped inside.
This was a long, empty room. It was too wide to be a hallway, but she couldn't figure out the use for a room built with its length far exceeding its width that was not a dining room. She could see curtained windows lining each side of the room that, when open, would allow plenty of light to enter. This was clearly a wing built off the main castle keep.
Curiosity got the better of her hunger, at least for the moment. Belle entered this new room, determined to figure out its purpose. It was connected to the dining room, which meant it had something to do with entertaining guests. Now that she was fully inside, she could see the walls were lined with elegantly carved and upholstered chairs, but there were no tables to be seen. There were also three massive chandeliers hanging above, evenly spaced down the long room, with the most elaborate in the center. When lit and polished they would probably light the room magnificently at night.
Belle walked slowly to the center of the room, staring around her with wide eyes. It wasn't until she was standing directly below the largest chandelier that a vague memory floated into her mind.
When she was a child, her parents had taken her sometimes to public assembly rooms in the cities, which rich people rented out at night to give parties and dances. Belle's parents weren't rich enough to be invited to such things, but sometimes during the day they would be allowed to take their little daughter to peer at the fine rooms while servants were cleaning them for the evening. Belle loved to look at the stylish furnishings and wall hangings when she was young, and imagine the elegant silk-clad ladies and gentlemen dancing. The newer ballrooms were built large and square, to accommodate waltzing. Belle had found out when she was a bit older that waltzing was fairly new, a somewhat scandalous dance imported from the court in Vienna. It was slowly becoming more accepted by all but the most conservative these days. Even a fairly poor girl like Belle knew the simplest waltz figures. The oldest assembly rooms, however, built before it was fashionable to waltz, had looked much like this room, designed for a time when most formal dancing consisted of long rows of couples dancing up and down the room's length. People still did these dances; "country dances" they were called now, though in truth they were popular with all classes of people from the royal court to the lowest peasants dancing at a barn raising.
That's what this was, then. An old-fashioned ballroom. And just as empty as the rest of the castle.
Belle left the room as slowly as she'd entered, still soaking in dust-covered details. Back in the dining room, she headed for the set of doors opposite.
At last, she'd found her goal. This was definitely a kitchen, though far larger in scale than anything she'd ever seen. Why, the fireplace alone was large enough to roast a whole ox! Built into the brickwork were several more alcoves for baking and other, smaller tasks. An enormous blockwork table, almost as big as the dining table next door, took up most of the center of the room. This table was also empty but scrubbed clean; it had been used recently. Most of the rest of the kitchen was clean as well apart from a few cobwebs in the corners. More doors led to what were presumably pantries, butteries, sculleries, and so on. If there was any food to be had, these smaller areas were the places to search.
Belle chose the closest to the left at random. She was determined to search each until she uncovered something edible. The first few led to empty storage rooms or places for preparing meat, pastries and so on. Unused utensils were carefully arranged, proclaiming the intended use of each room. One led to a little flight of downward spiral stairs that, when followed, revealed a cool, dry wine cellar. Here at least there was evidence the castle was inhabited by someone: there were many, many crates of wines in a bewildering variety of whites, reds and blushes. For the moment, Belle left these untouched and returned to the main kitchen.
The rest of the kitchen alcoves were disappointing. There was nothing in any of them. One did lead out to a snowbound kitchen garden, and what looked like orchards beyond that. Belle closed the door on the last empty pantry and propped her fists on her hips in frustration. If there was no food in the whole kitchen, where had the food Lord Garoux had served her come from?
A strange noise, like a whistle of wind, suddenly came from inside the pantry door she'd just shut. Belle frowned. There had been no windows in that room that she remembered. Just rows upon rows of empty shelves. Still frowning, she opened the door and peered inside.
On the set of tall shelves closest to her were now piles of fresh vegetables and fruit, and loaves of bread. She had been certain all the shelves were empty just seconds ago.
Belle stepped back into the pantry to examine the food that had appeared. Yes, she decided, that was the right word—appeared. She knew without doubt this food had not been there before. And it was the middle of winter. How on earth were there fresh lettuce and apples in this pantry? Potatoes and carrots were understandable—they kept well enough, and it was still fairly early in the winter. But lettuce?
Belle selected several of the vegetables and fruit and a loaf of bread, and carried them out onto the big table to examine them in better light. She'd been right that there were no windows in the pantry.
These looked ordinary enough. Nothing remarkable about any of the things sitting on the table before her. Except for the undeniable fact that they had appeared out of thin air.
On a whim, Belle went to some of the other rooms she'd already checked. Most were still empty, but in the dairy there were now several large rounds of cheese and in the larder had appeared several cuts of meat.
Fresh meat.
This Belle stared at the longest. She could find logical explanations for overlooking the other food—barely—though she was fairly sure she hadn't. This, she knew she hadn't overlooked. The meat, venison if she had to judge, was not salted and preserved as meat in a larder in wintertime should. It had appeared, as fresh as if it had just been shaved off a deer.
Instinct screamed for her to run. Get out of this eerie empty place with food that popped out of nowhere. Run out into the snow and not look back, even if she did freeze this time. It was better than being here, where something was very, very, very wrong.
Warring with that was the same brand of intense curiosity that had spurred her to look in the ballroom. This was the greatest puzzle she'd ever come across, and she knew deep down that if she ran now, she'd wonder for the rest of her life if this had all been a dream.
Cautiously selecting one of the slabs of meat, Belle brought it out to the table beside the other food she'd gathered. She wondered what would happen if she tried to make a stew out of the meat and vegetables. Would it all disappear again if she didn't eat it right away?
There was only one way to find out. Belle began to explore the kitchen, gathering the utensils and other equipment she'd need. In another formerly empty pantry she found dried spices and herbs, just what she'd need to make a stew. It was as if the kitchen had sensed her intentions and provided. Belle struggled not to be frightened at this thought. She distracted herself by preparing the stew, just as she'd done a thousand times at home. When it was bubbling away in a shiny copper cauldron over a nice, hot fire, she perched herself on a bench to wait, munching contentedly on hunks of bread and bites of apple.
If only she knew where the library was! This would be the perfect time to read a book. But one didn't leave something cooking over a fire unless one wanted to come back to burned food. Instead she amused herself by wondering exactly how elaborate with meals this strange kitchen would allow her to get. Did it only supply basic ingredients, or if you needed to plan a feast would it provide for that as well?
Belle had learned to cook from necessity when her mother had died. She didn't love it as much as reading, but she didn't mind it, either. She occasionally poked through recipe books when the bookseller had them to marvel at the dishes intended for servants to make for great families. She'd never gotten the chance to try any of them, or been much inclined to. She and Maurice didn't have the time or money for her to experiment with dishes she might not get right the first time. Might the library have books of recipes?
She was letting her imagination run away with her. She wouldn't be here long enough to experiment with this odd self-providing kitchen. Once she was fully recovered, she would go home to her father. She wanted to reassure him since she was fairly certain he thought she was dead.
Belle was lost in the middle of these thoughts when footsteps sounded in the dining room. Lord Garoux must have been attracted by the smell of her cooking stew. He was probably coming to find out its source.
By the time the kitchen doors opened, Belle was well prepared for who was behind them since the footsteps gave her such advance warning. What she was not prepared for was the look of rage on Lord Garoux's face when he finally opened the door.
Author's Note: Just to torment you further, this will be the last update for a little while. I'm in the midst of writing more chapters for Camp CaNoWriMo, which have yet to be edited. I won't be doing that until after camp is done at the end of July. However, you will be reassured to know that there are many more chapters coming down the pipeline eventually.
The ballroom in this castle is based on the ballroom at the Governor's Palace at Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia. I have put a link in my profile to a photo of the ballroom that gives you an idea of its dimensions. It is much longer than it is wide, while when we think ballroom today we think of a larger, more squared off room to accommodate dances that move around the room in a circular fashion such as the waltz. Waltz hadn't been invented in pre-Revolutionary France-it came from the Austrian court early in the 19th century, though by the 1790s there were some dances that had begun to vaguely resemble waltzing in that they involved two partners dancing with one another exclusively while touching. Previously, the main styles of formalized dance were the minuet, where two partners mirrored each other in complicated memorized steps but rarely touched, and country dances, which consisted of couples dancing in long lines (the Virginia Reel is a good example). Both these styles of dance worked best in a long room. Waltzing was an incredible scandal as it traveled through the 19th century ballrooms of Europe, the United States and eventually countries like Japan that were trying to Westernize because-gasp-the partners are touching throughout. And connected in a way that, if you think about it, has some...provocative undertones. And you thought waltzing was sweet and innocent compared to the bump and grind stuff popular today! Needless to say I'm going to have some fun with waltzing later on in this story. ::wink::
