Page 21 of Bluebell’s Fate

For the first time in the last hour at least, Bell felt herself relax. Nathaniel had made no move to intrude upon her space. He’d been thoughtful enough to prepare a bedroll for himself, and tomorrow Bell would be able to sleep in a chamber of her own. Her breathing slowed, and she felt the tension she’d clung to melt into the mattress below her in a rush of relief.

Chapter Fourteen

Nathaniel had learned that his new wife was a terrible liar, and now he could add that she was also a terrible actress. He lay in the dark, and the familiar itch to reach for his notebook tickled his mind. It was no matter. Come morning, he would remember to add this particular trait of his wife’s to his growing list of things he was learning about her. He still didn’t know much, but he was determined that he wouldn’t forget the small details of what he did know. Today, he’d added some of the foods she’d chosen to eat, and the fact that she was not at all comfortable with him yet.

The evidence of Bell’s poor acting had been clear from the moment he crept into the room, trying not to wake her. But the captivating woman lying in the bed, with her dark hair strewn over the pillow, was obviously not sleeping. It was just as obvious that she was trying to make him believe that she was. A part of him wanted to bend down and kiss her tightly pinched eyes or run his fingers through her hair, but after she’d admitted how unprepared she felt staying in the same room as him, it didn’t seem like a good idea. She should be asleep.

Nathaniel had stayed in the inn’s dining room well over an hour while she readied for bed, for the express purpose of giving her time to do just that. He suspected that she wouldn’t want him to see her in any state of undress. Even the thought made heat spread through his chest. He was a married man now; those feelings didn’t have to be repressed. But he wasn’t one to take advantage of a woman in distress. And his wife was currently very distressed. What had he done wrong? She’d been silent on their carriage ride, panicked at the thought of sleeping in the same bed with him, and now she utterly refused to acknowledge his presence? But in the midst of it all, she was refreshingly guileless. He shifted onto his side, and punched his small pillow so that it supported his neck better.

He lay on the thin bedroll and once again went over the plans still needed for the next leg of their journey. There really wasn’t much to do. His small staff knew precisely what was expected of them to prepare the cottage for his and Bell’s arrival. It was merely a case of getting ready for the day and eating his breakfast before his wife arose. That way she could have some time alone to prepare for the remainder of their journey.

Nathaniel didn’t know if it was the floor or his ineptitude as a husband that made him more uncomfortable. Either way, as time wore on, his shoulders seemed determined to dig into the wooden floor at painful angles. For a few minutes, he couldn’t help but think of how differently things would be if he had married Miss Stone. Nathaniel had always pictured his wedding night going quite differently. Pushing the unhelpful thoughts from his mind, he tried to shift about silently, not wanting to keep Bell awake even longer. When he heard her slow, rhythmic breathing finally set in, he had a sudden clarity of what it was that kept him on edge: his wife. She was a puzzle he needed to solve, and until he did, he would have no peace. He huffed out a breath. Peace was a five-letter word. One he felt would be as elusive as magic and sleep.

Nathaniel woke long before the sun, thanks to a dull ache in his left shoulder. He sat up and roughly made out Bell’s sleeping form. Even without seeing her properly, the form of her body beneath the pile of bedding was beautiful. He rubbed at his eyes and put on a shirt before he moved to stand. After quietly dressing himself in his traveling clothes, he slid from the room. The corridor was dark, save for a light at one end leading down the stairs. He slowly made his way toward it and found himself in the kitchen.

A scullery maid gasped and covered her heart when she saw him from her bent over position next to the newly lit fire. “Sir, you gave me a fright. What can I do for ya?”

Nathaniel yawned. “Do you happen to know the time?”

She glanced to the corner of the tidy room at a small clock.

He read the time as she told him it was but four in the morning. Shaking his head, he requested a slice of bread, and determined that he would go explore the cathedral until the morning actually came in earnest. The young girl looked at him as if he’d been covered in mud as she handed him not one, but two slices of the day-old bread. He thanked her and walked out into the cool spring air. The night wrapped around him like a cloak, the only light to direct him from the heavens above.

The walk up Steep Hill was longer than it seemed, and aptly named. Leg muscles burning from the climb, Nathaniel finally reached the top. With nothing but a long carriage ride before him, he welcomed the exercise. He strolled along the bottom of the high stone ramparts that protected the castle and watched the sun rise in the east over the cathedral’s spires. He wished Bell were beside him. Her look of pure wonder from the night before when they had looked at the edifice was embedded into his soul. If there was nothing else he had in common with his new wife, he was grateful she appreciated this view of Lincoln.

Finding a bench, Nathaniel sat and enjoyed the stillness of the morning. He glanced up at the tower clock on the northwest side of the edifice. How was it already eight thirty? Nathaniel resumed his walk back to the inn at a much faster pace than previously. His morning explorations had taken longer than he planned, and he didn’t want Bell to believe he’d left her behind. Although she likely needed to sleep late from her travels, they really ought to leave before nine in order to be home for supper. Nathaniel had convinced his parents to prolong their travels and visit London for a few days to give him some time and space while he settled into the cottage with Bell. It wouldn’t do to derail his well-laid plans before any of them truly began in earnest.

To his astonishment, Bell was in the dining room, a queen among peasants, finishing up a plate of eggs, ham, and toast when he walked in. She was dressed in a fine pale-green traveling gown, and her hair was pulled up in a simple knot at the base of her neck, with loose tendrils of her copper-brown tresses framing her face. She looked up as he neared her small table. Dark circles rimmed her startling blue eyes, somehow making tired look enchanting. He wondered at his own appearance. Surely he looked even more tired than she did.

“Good morning, Nathaniel.” Her soft, airy voice pierced his stupor.

“Morning, Bell.” He chose not to ask how she slept as the answer was quite obvious. “It’s good to see you up. Our carriage will be prepared to leave in the next hour. Is there anything you need to see to before that time?”

Her gaze dropped to her lap as if she’d just been given a set down. “No, I’ll just make sure Sutton has packed my bags.” She pushed away from the table, turned back to the stairs, and left without another word.

Nathaniel blew a tense breath through his nose. He sat in the chair she vacated, still warm from her presence, and asked a maid to bring him a plate of breakfast. While he waited, he pulled out his small notebook and added toast, eggs, and ham to the list of foods Bell would eat. She wouldn’t starve. He could make this marriage work. He just needed more information.

A quarter of an hour later—and with a full stomach—Nathaniel led Bell to their waiting carriage. He handed her up and then handed up her maid before climbing inside himself. Bell pulled out a sketch book and a pencil, and studiously avoided Nathaniel’s gaze by looking out the window. The sketch his grandmother had given him came to the forefront of his mind, and he smiled. Would she draw more fairies today? He glanced down at her hand flying across the page and caught the lines of what could only be the cathedral. Her talent was absolutely incredible.

“Would you mind switching seats with me, Nathaniel?” Bell asked.

“Why?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Never mind.” She looked down and busied her pencil once more.

“I am not in the habit of making a lady ride backward facing. However, if you truly wish it, I am happy to comply.”

She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “Forget I said anything.”

But Nathaniel refused to forget anything about Bell; it was not a part of his plan. He turned to Sutton. “Please, come take this seat.”

The maid obliged, and Nathaniel deftly sat next to Bell. He looked over her shoulder at her incredible rendering of the castle before she pulled the book closer to her chest. He reached out a hand and guided the book back down to her lap. “This is quite remarkable.” He couldn’t believe she’d drawn this in just a small handful of minutes. She was more proficient than he’d expected.

She shook her head once again. “It is far from finished. But I would be given more time to look at the building as we leave if I switch you seats.”

Nathaniel stuck his head out the carriage window. “Tell Phillip to take a lap around the cathedral on the way out of town, please.” The footman delivered the message to the driver, and Nathaniel sat back down. “Sutton will sit on that bench, and I will sit here.” Nathaniel said. “Feel free to switch between the two benches as we admire the cathedral.” It would add another half an hour or so to their trip, but Bell hadn’t asked him for much, and they were leaving earlier than Nathaniel had expected. And he could alter his plans for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered and looked back out the window.