Beauty was humming to herself as she headed home from the fruit stand. Keeping the cottage stocked for others was more difficult than she recalled. Then again, it had been years since she was required to keep a home at all. The City had done so much of the work. Although she could never forgive it/him/it for taking her from her family, she couldn't have been angry about her treatment once she was here.
Well. There was the matter of Mssr. Partridge's disappearance. She was very saddened about that, too. She hadn't been able to get up the courage to confront her guest about Errol yet. He had to know.... But then, perhaps he didn't. She scuffed the sole of her shoe against the concrete walkway as she headed closer toward the hill that meant her cottage. Thomas didn't seem to understand people. Didn't seem to understand their motivations or what made them happy or sad. Beauty truly believed that he thought he was doing what was best for them. She thought he thought that he was doing what he did out of love.
But he/it/he didn't know what love was, not really. Not in the way she knew love -- for her father, for her sisters, for.... She sighed and let her eyes drift over the park as she walked. And that was when she saw the tiny, strange lady that had first disquieted her in Bookmark Books.
Stiffening, Beauty immediately looked for cover. A bush. A tree. Anything.
But she was smack in the middle of the park. No hiding places. She swallowed, then debated her options. She could keep on going home -- but no, no, because what if Red saw her and then knew where her home was? No. Instead, Beauty kept to the sidewalk and tried to look as casual as possible. She wouldn't turn off when she needed to turn to get home. She'd just keep walking. Keep walking until she was far away from that young madam.