Page 20 of Bluebell’s Fate

Bell inclined her head to Miss Chadwick. Did this woman—who knew Nathaniel by name—know him by other means as well? Miss Chadwick was quite pretty, with her rosy cheeks and ready humor. There weren’t woods too nearby, but they’d passed plenty of orchards. Had Bell’s husband lost himself more than once on this journey that he took time and again?

“Do I smell beef stew?” Nathaniel asked.

The woman turned back to him, and her smile turned simpering. “Of course, I knew you’d be coming through, so it was prepared with you in mind.”

So they did know each other. Had they formed any sort of attachment? If they had, it would explain Miss Chadwick’s coldness toward her. It had only taken Nathaniel a few short minutes before he’d first kissed Bell. What was to say that wasn’t a common occurrence for her husband? Suddenly, Bell was not at all hungry. She found she could not watch the exchange any longer. She turned to Nathaniel. “I think I’d like to take a tray in the room.”

Nathaniel’s eyes turned on her with what could only be concern. Had she been that obvious that she needed to be away from him and Miss Chadwick’s flirtations?

“Allow me to show you up.” He held out his arm.

“That’s not necessary.” She waved him off. “I’m certain you are famished. I’ll see you when you’ve finished…what you need to.” She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, wishing again that her imagination would leave her be.

He dropped his arm and dipped his chin toward his chest. “I’d like to come up with you all the same, to see you situated.”

Bell plastered on her society smile to give herself time to think, like Rose had taught her to do long ago. It wouldn’t do to make more of a scene, and she realized she didn’t know where the room was. “If you insist.”

He lifted his gaze to hers and searched her eyes for what felt longer than normal. Bell took his offered arm—she didn’t know what else to do while the pretty Miss Chadwick watched their interaction. Nathaniel pulled her along a short corridor before they ascended the stairs, then turned into the third room on the left. He closed the door behind them, and Bell’s heart pounded with renewed fear. It was irrational—her husband had given her absolutely nothing to fear at this point—but her physical reactions were outside of her control. He walked around her and flung the curtains open.

Bell felt her jaw drop. The view of the cathedral was breathtaking. Golden light reflected off stained glass, and a tall gothic arch adorned the entrance. Stately towers shot up into a pale orange and pink-stained sky. She felt herself moving toward the window, pulled by an invisible string. Her fingers pressed against the cool glass and her breath started to fog her view. Bell took half a step backward and looked to the side where Nathaniel stood watching her.

“You like it.”

She met his eyes and nodded. “It’s enchanting. Almost like the angels themselves decided to spill sunshine over the stones to light a path for a lost soul.”

She didn’t mention that the lost soul was likely hers. Bell had needed a reminder that light could chase the darkness away.

Nathaniel took another step toward her, hesitant, as if he would scare her off. “I always ask to stay in this room just so I can see this view.”

“I understand why.”

He shifted from one foot to another. “I’ll let you get situated, and have your maid bring up your tray. I won’t rush you to prepare for bed. I have some things I need to attend to downstairs.” Nathaniel bowed like a toy soldier and turned to leave the room. Pausing at the door, he turned and looked at the cathedral once more, or was she the one he was looking at?

Bell kept her eyes fixed on the holy edifice until the sun went to bed. It was quicker than she would have preferred. Pulling the curtain closed over the window, she turned around and sighed. Without any more distractions, she was going to try to sleep before her husband came into the room. Half an hour passed before Sutton came in with a tray of the delicious-smelling soup and some buttered bread. Bell picked at her meal with half a heart. She knew she ought to eat, but the fact that she had no idea of what Nathaniel needed to “attend to,” or who he was with, unsettled her.

No, that was not right…she wasn’t unsettled, she was depressed. It was their wedding night. Even though she’d practically begged Nathaniel to give her space, she found that being alone might be worse. He could have offered to keep her company. He could have spoken to her at any point over their hours of travel. He could have at least acted like a friend. But they knew nothing of each other. What would it take for her husband to desire to know her?

Sutton helped her dress for bed and took the pins out of Bell’s hair before Bell slipped between the covers on the clean bed. After taking a moment to put things away, her maid quietly left the room.

The silence was deafening.

Left alone with her own unhelpful thoughts, Bell’s breathing soon became short, and her efforts to escape with a story failed. She could not imagine herself anywhere else. Her traitorous mind kept reminding her that this bed that she was in was the same bed that her husband usually slept in when he stayed the night here. Had he ever shared it with someone else? Would he come upstairs completely foxed and slip between the covers? She had no idea if he had the inclination to be in his cups or not. She counted to one hundred and worked to slow her breathing. When nothing changed, she gave up. The only thing for it was to stay awake until he came in and then feign sleep. That way she could remind him, in case he forgot, that he’d made different sleeping arrangements.

As the night dragged on, the volume from the large rooms below got louder. Every raucous noise from below kept her on edge. After some time, she began to fear the stretches of silence more than the bouts of laughter. Laughter, she could see in her mind’s eye; but silence had too many possibilities for her to relax. Just how long was her husband going to stay out? What was his relationship with Miss Chadwick? Was he spending his time with her? How long would she lay in bed, fretting about things she had no control over? Bell tried in vain to forget the tall young woman who had greeted them upon their arrival. With more fervency, she attempted to tell herself that she didn’t care one whit how her husband acted.

Heavens, she was a lost cause. Her entire life she’d wanted only to be loved, and here she was, forgotten on her wedding night.

As if Nathaniel had heard her thoughts, the door handle twisted. Bell closed her eyes, adopting what she hoped was a convincing sleeping form. If Nathaniel came close to her, he was bound to hear her pounding heart and see the tension in her jaw and neck. The door opened slowly, and then clicked shut a moment later. Soft footfalls sounded in the room, walking toward the opposite wall. Once again, the door opened, more fully this time, as the light from the sconces in the hallway fell across Bell’s eyelids.

“Ah, thank you, Wilson,” Nathaniel whispered into the dimly lit room.

The two men worked at their tasks, and Bell could only imagine that Nathaniel was preparing for bed. She felt heat rise in her chest, and she pinched her eyes closed more firmly.

“Is there anything else you’ll be needing, sir?”

“No, get some rest. We have another long day tomorrow.”

The door opened and closed again, and Bell knew she was alone in the room with Nathaniel. He seemed to be in possession of his faculties, which brought Bell greater relief than she would have imagined. A soft scraping came from under the bed, and Bell fought to stay still. She heard when Nathaniel stretched his body down on the floor near her feet. It seemed he remembered his bedroll.