Page 25 of Bluebell’s Fate

“I’m for bed.” He stood. “Can I walk you upstairs?”

Bell tucked her unread book under her arm and smiled politely before rising.

He held out his arm to her and she took it lightly. The feel of her small hand on his arm made him want to stand a little taller. He pressed a kiss to her hand at her door. “Sleep well, Bell.”

“And you, Nathaniel.” She smiled at him. But something was missing.

In all honesty, so much was missing.

Watching her shut herself into her room was like watching his parents argue. They never yelled or got angry—at least not at each other. They simply shut themselves away from one another for a few days until whatever disagreement was between them blew over. It had always seemed like a peaceful way to argue, until now.

Now, Nathaniel wanted to wrench open the door and make certain he could do something—anything to bridge their differences.

But no, he wouldn’t frighten Bell and demand she open up to him. She hardly knew him. For him to push his way into her life would only drive the wedge that was between them deeper. He pulled out his notebook and began a list of things he could speak to his wife about.

How would she like to spend her days?

Clothing…women like to talk about clothing.

Which flowers does she like best?

What makes her happy?

Eventually, he turned away and shut himself in his own room. Hating himself all the while. How on earth was Nathaniel supposed to get to know his wife?

Chapter Seventeen

Dreams were fickle things. Bell had often overlooked the blessing it was to be able to wake up from a dream. Her stomach seemed like a pool of ink, and her head a swarm of bees. Dreams about kissing one’s husband had that effect on her, it seemed. One day, Bell was certain those dreams would fade away. Nathaniel obviously was not drawn to her in that way any longer. Was the kiss they shared so repulsive to him? How differently they felt about that moment—surely, time could heal the emptiness inside her soul.

Lying abed, on the other hand, would only make Bell’s circumstances worse. She pulled open the drapes that hung across her window and watched the retreating form of a man walking across the field toward Cairnsby Hall. Nathaniel was off to work early again, it seemed. She had awoken each morning the past week to the same sight. It was time something changed.

It was blatantly obvious that her husband’s schedule was not what would be changing, however. The man was like a human clock. Bell could tell the time of day just by knowing what he was doing. Or at least what Mrs. Carter said he was doing. Sadly, Bell was not a part of that strict schedule until dinner time. It was only then that she could rely on seeing her husband for a couple awkward hours. No, the change needed to come from her.

Bell couldn’t wander the house and surrounding land forever. Today, she would face the mysterious room and the housekeeper. Admitting her lack of knowledge about running a household would be a humbling experience, but it was a step Bell had to take if she wanted to earn the respect of her housekeeper…and by extension, her husband.

Sutton checked in on Bell just in time to tighten Bell’s stays and help her with her hair for the day. “What are your plans for the day, my lady?”

Bell looked at her light blue muslin day dress in the dressing table mirror. It was one of her favorites. Rose had embroidered small, white daisies across the bodice. Bell pulled strength from the memory of her fearless sister. “After breakfast, I’m going to be meeting with Mrs. Carter to see what I’m dealing with. And I’ll go from there, I suppose.”

Sutton nodded.

“I’d appreciate it if you remained with me for that meeting, Sutton. I’d like your input and help.”

Her maid’s eyes widened. It was unlike Bell to ask for her verbal assistance in anything, let alone in front of a newer acquaintance, but Bell felt the need for Sutton’s support.

After a filling breakfast of eggs, honey cake, and a cup of chocolate, Bell followed Sutton to the kitchen where a scullery maid was scrubbing dishes. Mrs. Carter was sitting at a table writing on a piece of paper with her quill. “Good morning, Mrs. Carter.” Bell sat down across from her.

“What can I do for you, my lady?” Mrs. Carter’s eyes crinkled in the corners and fanned out into beautiful smile lines that reminded Bell of rays of sunshine.

Mrs. Carter’s friendliness gave Bell the confidence she needed to continue to speak up. “I’d like for you to show me the household responsibilities at some point today. When would be a convenient time?”

“Lady Bluebell,” Mrs. Carter looked at her cautiously, “whenever it is convenient for you, I am at your disposal.” The woman straightened the white cap atop her head.

Smiling, Bell pressed on, “What is it you are working on now?” She bent forward and looked at the piece of paper. Tidy rows of tasks to accomplish with a single line through the top five or six items. The list looked remarkably like a page from Nathaniel’s small notebook, only in a different hand.

“This is my list of work. Before your arrival, I was a housemaid at Cairnsby Hall. I’ve added a few tasks to my plate and want to be sure not to miss anything. Not that I want you to be thinking that I don’t know what to do, I am well qualified for the position. But changes in staffing are rare with the younger Mr. Payne running things. I’m right pleased to have the chance to be promoted, even if it is in a smaller house.”

Bell put her hand atop Mrs. Carter’s. “I, for one, am glad that at least one of us is confident in running the house. I’m afraid that aside from pouring tea, I’ve had no practice as the lady of the house. My mother wasn’t one to give up control easily.”