Page 14 of Bluebell’s Fate

His grandmother nodded and picked up the parchment he’d been absently touching. “Yes, this one will be just right.”

Nathaniel was at a loss for words. This drawing was a precious gift. Not just because it was skillful workmanship, nor because he knew his grandmother had sacrificed keeping it for his sake. It was a gift to have even a small glimpse into Lady Bluebell’s heart. The remainder of his journey didn’t seem quite so long after that.

Chapter Nine

Bell had been a prisoner in her own home for the three weeks it took for the banns to be read in the local parish. Her mother—the jailer. Although she was free to go anywhere in the house, she was not allowed outside. It was the cruelest form of punishment her parents could have invented for her rash behavior in the woods with Mr. Payne. Because of that fateful day, Bell had missed her appointment with her godmother, and all the magic in Bell’s life had disappeared.

Tonight, like she had for the past few weeks, she had once again taken to sitting atop her writing desk next to the open window. She took a deep breath of the cool night air and tried to envision herself in her woods, but she could not imagine the scent of the vegetation or feel the dampness of the air. If only she could sprout wings, she would fly away from here. She would soar high into the endless night sky and leave behind all the gossip and rules and expectations that plagued her. However, magical wings didn’t grow from her back, and they never would. Once again, she was reminded how little control she had over her own life, for even in her mind, the magic wasn’t enough to pull her from her circumstances.

The wedding was to take place tomorrow morning at the parish church. Bell’s mother had kept her informed about the plans for the wedding breakfast, and the modiste had visited several times to take measurements and deliver different parcels containing items for her wedding trousseau. Bell accepted, without complaint, all the decisions that were made without her input. There was no arguing with her mother, especially when Bell couldn’t find a modicum of interest in the decisions. The wedding would be small, just family and a few friends would be in attendance. Not even Rose and her husband would be there, having been abroad when the invitation was delivered to their home. Rose’s absence was probably for the best; ever since her own wedding, she’d not seen eye to eye with their mother.

A knock on her door caused Bell to scoot off the desk and shake out her skirts. “Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal her father. Bell swallowed. She had seen very little of him outside of family dinner these past weeks. And sometimes, he was absent even from that important time of day. What could have caused him to come to her room? She’d always been called to his study in the past to discuss any matters of business. “Yes, Father?”

He ran a hand atop his bald head and grimaced. “I just came to check on you, Bluebell. Is everything in preparation for tomorrow?”

Bell shrugged. “I assume as much. Mother has taken care of everything.”

He nodded absently, as if he knew the answer, but wasn’t really listening. His attitude was so out of character, Bell wondered what it was that had him out of sorts. Actually, she thought her marriage might have something to do with it, but she hated the idea of causing her father discomfort. He’d always accepted her, even with all her eccentricities, in a way her mother never had.

His uncertain eyes sought hers. “May I sit with you for a while?”

Emotion grabbed onto Bell’s throat with a surprising tightness. She motioned to the bed and joined him to sit on the edge. Long ago, when Bell was just a small child, her father would come into her room and sit on the edge of her bed after she was tucked in between the sheets. She would tell him about her day and her adventures in the woods. Her father would listen until she exhausted all her troubles, stories, and dreams. Then he would kiss her on the forehead, wish her a good night, and blow out the candlestick next to her bedside.

They sat beside each other in strained silence for some time, the tender memory hanging thick over Bell’s heart. She had no idea what it was her father wanted to say but seemed unable to, so she reached out a hand and put it over her father’s. “What is it, Father?”

He squeezed her fingers lightly and cleared his throat. “Do you remember taking me into the woods when you were five?”

There was only one memory Bell had of her father in the woods, and she didn’t recall how old she was at the time. “I do remember you coming with me one time.” She smiled. “It was when you told me that the woods were mine. It was the best gift I have ever been given.” Bell couldn’t hold back her smile.

“Yes. But do you remember what happened while we were there?”

Bell searched the memory, but all she could recall was that glorious moment when she’d been given the woods. “No, I don’t. What happened?”

Her father sat further back onto the bed, and as he became more comfortable, so did Bell. “You were telling me a story about a fairy child who had been swept away in the current of the stream. You were looking around frantically for something to stick into the shallow water to get her out. I picked a bluebell and handed it to you. Your face went white, as if you’d seen a ghost.” He chuckled and Bell vaguely recalled her worry for him. As a small child, she’d learned the legends of the bluebells from her nursery maid, and she didn’t want her father to be lost. He was likely the only person that understood her imagination at the time.

“You were so concerned that I would get lost in the woods, that I’d never be able to find a way home. In your fear, you began to cry. I picked you up and tried to carry you back to the house while your head was buried in my shoulder. But I got lost, just as you feared. And the longer I wandered about in the woods, the more confused I became. When you realized that I was indeed lost, you insisted that I close my eyes while you led me from the woods.

“Now, I admit that I peeked.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “But you walked through those woods with an awareness of your surroundings that astounded me. It was as if you were meant to be there. So when we reached the woods edge, I gave them to you.” He paused, and Bell felt the elation of that moment all over again, the immediate sense of home and belonging that had been gifted her. “I cannot, to this day, explain to you why it was I got lost. But the magic that you believed in seemed real to me. In the same moment, you seemed to possess that magic yourself.”

Bell’s mind whirled. How was it that she had forgotten the details? But then again, Bell had lived every available moment of her childhood within the safety of the woods. Was it so surprising that she didn’t remember everything that had transpired there? Her heart warmed at the reminder of that happy time; before she’d reached the age to need a governess and an iron-willed structure had been forced upon much of her time. Her father had been more a part of her life when she was young, but becoming a woman was something her mother took responsibility for, and their paths hadn’t crossed much as she had gotten older. Especially since the time Rose had married a couple years ago.

Her father stood. “I guess what I am saying is that I believe Mr. Payne. I don’t believe that he wished to entrap you or force your hand to marry him. And I also believe that you still have that magic inside of yourself. You can take that with you after you are married and build a beautiful life with it.”

Tears sprang unbidden to Bell’s eyes. If only her father knew the truth of it…that the magic had been absent since that day three weeks ago. The only conclusion she could derive was that contrary to her father’s and Godmother’s thinking, the magic was in the woods, not within her being. It was a lovely sentiment though, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. “Thank you, Father. I will try to find happiness.” Bell lowered her chin so that her father wouldn’t see her tears when she stood. She wrapped her arms about his waist and squeezed. Thankful for the dim light of night, she bid him goodnight, and prepared for bed with wet eyes.

The parish church was a building Bell had visited her entire life on a weekly basis, save for times of illness. Today it felt different and unfamiliar, like trying on a new boot for the first time. In an odd turn of events, Bell was grateful for the day to arrive. She was finally allowed out of doors; the sun shone down with exquisite brightness, and the slight breeze played with her hair at the base of her neck. The blessing of the elements calmed her spirit. It was just marriage, just one of the most influential days of her entire life, just the consequence of her big mistake.

Bell was dressed lavishly for such a simple ceremony. Her dress, originally commissioned for Bell’s first ball, was a pale pink, with beadwork and lace along the bodice and hem. She felt numb, almost as if she were witnessing someone else getting married. Mr. Payne was just as dashing as she’d remembered. His sharp jawline and hazel eyes apparently had not been a figment of her imagination. If only those eyes looked at her as if she were his reason for living. She had always imagined that this day would be filled with magic and love. As it was, she had to settle for her betrothed looking entirely too handsome.

He wore a midnight blue coat and a crisp white neckcloth tied simply. His mouth had formed a hesitant, half-smile when he’d first seen her entering the church, but his countenance was completely serious throughout the entirety of the exchanging of vows. Bell made it through the ceremony as if she were an actress at the theatre. Mr. Payne promised to cherish her always, and there was an intensity in his eyes that made Bell’s stomach flip. And when he slid the beautiful, thin gold band with a small sapphire set inside on her fourth finger, she felt a twinge of magic in her heart. She even imagined her teary-eyed godmother sitting in the pews, smiling up at her as she turned to survey the crowd. Perhaps her wedding day held some magic after all.

After they each signed the parish register, Bell blinked at her maiden name on the paper, the name she now left behind. She was a married woman: Lady Bluebell Payne.

Her new husband threaded her hand through his arm and escorted her to their waiting carriage. They walked straight past her imaginary godmother again. Bell couldn’t quite keep the smile from her face. She knew it was all in her mind, but she seemed so real.

Mr. Payne squeezed her hand and looked in the same direction. “I can’t wait to introduce you to my grandmother.”