Beauty and the Werewolf Read Free Page A

medicine, and more outdoor exercise will mean less stiffness and fewer aches.”
    So Bella left the twins chattering to their mother, all three of them as animated as she had ever seen them. She smiled to herself as she closed the door to her room. That should keep all three in good spirits for at least three weeks.
    And that is all to the good for me!

2
    AS USUAL, BELLA WAS UP AT DAWN; SHE, AND NOT Genevieve, was the one who was truly in charge of the household, and had been, more or less, since her own mother died when she was ten—roughly half her life now that she thought about it. Not that there was an inordinate amount of work to be done; the servants were all good, reliable and mostly managed things very well. Still, someone had to be in charge, or there would be all manner of jockeying for the right to have the last say in things; that was just the way that people worked.
    Getting up at dawn just was not a hardship when you didn’t attend parties that went long into the night, didn’t linger at dances until you were exhausted and didn’t indulge in too much rich food and wine that kept you up all night. In the winter it wasn’t fun, certainly—it was cold and dark, and until you got the fires going again, you had to bustle about the house bundled up to your eyes. But that was more than made up for by glorious spring and summer mornings when everything was cool and fresh and smelled delicious, and the very air was as intoxicating as any wine.
    When the household—downstairs at least—was up and functioning, Bella went back to her room and bundled into her bed. Not to sleep—this was when she did the household accounts, with a nice cup of hot sweet tea and a buttered muffin.
    By the time she was done, the fires had warmed the house and it was no longer a trial to be up and doing.
    When she had approved the menus for the day, unlocked the wine cellar, mildly scolded the boy who cleaned the fireplaces for carelessness that had nearly ruined a rug and praised the scullery maid who had saved it, checked the pantries, approved the shopping list and paid the tradesmen’s bills, it was time for Genevieve, Pearl and Amber to wake. She liked to be out of the house by then, as it allowed Genevieve the illusion that she had the ordering of the household, as the housekeeper presented her with menus and shopping lists she never read, bills that had already been paid and a vague report on the servants. Sometimes Bella had heard Genevieve boasting—or sighing—about all the work she was put to in order to keep the household in order, and she had just shaken her head.
    By afternoon, however, Bella was free. The twins would be engaged with some lesson or other—a foreign language, dancing, watercolor painting or attempts to learn a musical instrument—which so far had come to nothing although their singing was superb. Genevieve had at least three friends in her rooms for a good gossip. Now was a good time to escape.
    Today was the day for another of those activities on Bella’s part that made Bella’s stepmother roll her eyes, for today she had planned to visit Granny.
    Everyone in the city knew Granny, whether they admitted it or not. Granny was a fixture. There had been a Granny at Granny’s Cottage for generations. She might or might not actually be a witch; no one would say, and Granny was very closemouthed on the subject. Officially Granny was the Herb Woman, the doctor for thosewho could not afford doctors, the confidante and giver of advice for those who had no granny of their own, and the dispenser of wisdom that had passed the test of time.
    As such, of course, she was exceedingly unfashionable and not the sort of person that the Beauchamps should be associating with, in the mind of Genevieve at least. No one of their status went to an Herb Woman; they had doctors come to attend them.
    Bella stopped by the kitchen and put together a basket of the sorts of