The pot-bellied mushroom of a man dominated their small kitchen. With a plate of buttered scones set before him, sipping a cup of tea he shouldn't have looked frightening, especially given his girth. Yet there was a sternness about him, belied by his practical shoes, that screamed 'run', as far as Belle was concerned.
Maurice plied their guest with honey while Belle frantically searched their home for any belongings she wished for that hadn't made their way into her earlier rucksack. Previous necessities like bread now made way for objects of sentimental value: a flowered tea pot her mother left her, a broken filigreed watch a neighbor gifted her father when he repaired one of their window latches, and a single brass candleholder she used to illuminate her books when they could afford extra tallow. Nothing spectacular, not items an aristocrat, like the man in front of her obviously was, would blink an eye at.
The sun now fully in the sky, and her rotund houseguest (under dubious consent) full of the tea and scones Belle had been saving since last market day for the celebration of her (hopeful) escape. Belle noted dully that the round man's eyes lingered just a moment too long on their empty cabinets for her pride. Belle laughed inwardly. Here she was, the odor of smoke lingering in her hair her only perfume, about to be carted off to Dieu sait où, and she was worried about a bare cupboard looking bad to her buyer.
Taking a rumpled purple handkerchief from his pocket to wipe non-existent crumbs from his cravat, the man spoke. "A soldier from the regiment is waiting outside to take your luggage. Naturally it shall be returned to you upon arrival at our destination." the word Naturally fell from his lips as smooth as silk, barely a ripple of emotion tugging at the corners of the unnatural nature of his errand.
Naturally Belle would oblige him, Naturally she would pack her life up for the whim of this...this... naturally words failed to describe the ache in her chest at freedom lost. As if even her mind were now bared for the world to see, the round man sniffed and gave a pointed glance towards her father at Belle's last thought. 'Oh yes. Oh yes.' She considered him more seriously now. 'He's seen my bluff, but in our next hand I'll be ready'.