Page 26 of Bluebell’s Fate

Looking over at Sutton, Bell patted the chair next to herself. “Come join us.”

She did, but Bell could tell she was uncomfortable. She chose not to ask for Sutton to talk but did her best to include her with looks.

Mrs. Carter spent the next hour talking with Bell about the small staff, the menu, the tenants that her husband watched over, and the new kitchen garden. As Cairnsby Cottage had been vacant for some time, the garden had overgrown. Bell found her mind wandering to who might have lived here before, and why would such a charming cottage go unlet for such a long time. The countryside was beautiful, in its own way. There was good farmland, and the big, wide-open sky sometimes made Bell feel as if she could fly.

“Mr. Payne had just enough time before the wedding to get a crop planted for us. He worked side by side with the gardener from the big house everyday to get it finished in time.” Mrs. Carter’s voice brought Bell back to the present. She noted that Mrs. Carter spoke with a hint of pride in her voice as she led Bell out the back door to see the garden.

Bell’s insides knotted. The timing of the wedding wasn’t precisely something she’d prefer to think on overly much. The three weeks that she had been locked inside her own home, Nathaniel had spent traveling and making the preparations for her arrival to a forgotten cottage. He’d been outside, working the ground and planting a garden. She was jealous, and she felt her lack of industriousness down to the toes of her half boots. On top of that, she couldn’t think of a single time since she’d left the schoolroom that she’d acted with purpose and direction. Her life had been filled with half-hearted needlepoint, music, social calls, and traipsing around in her woods. It all seemed so pointless.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Payne?” Bell asked.

“Oh, it’s going on fifteen years now. A lot has changed in that time. I was hired as a chambermaid originally, and slowly moved up the ranks. There’s been a lot fewer changes the past five years though,” Mrs. Carter said.

Bell cocked her head to the side. “Why is that?”

Mrs. Carter pressed her lips into a line for a moment, and then shook her head. “Well, Mr. Payne changed.”

Bell could feel her eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Was he unkind before?”

“No. Not at all. He just doesn’t have the same touch as his son. The elder Mr. Payne changed in that he basically gave the running of the house over to his son. Nathaniel has been managing the staff ever since, and with much more success, mind you.” She sounded proud of Nathaniel, almost like a mother.

The picture the housekeeper painted of Nathaniel was quite favorable. As she’d known him for the past fifteen years, Bell was wont to believe her. More deeply though, Bell felt another pang of jealousy. She wanted to know her husband like Mrs. Carter did…perhaps not precisely how she did, but at least equally as well.

Mrs. Carter showed Bell and Sutton what plants were planted where, and when they could expect to see their fruits. Bell listened but didn’t know enough to ask any questions. When they neared the end of the last row of beans, Bell excused herself from both women. After seeing the list of tasks Mrs. Carter meant to finish for the day, Bell didn’t want to take up too much of her time, and Sutton looked like she needed a nap after having to hear people talk for so long.

Bell wanted to visit the room at the end of the hall, and for some reason, her heartbeat picked up faster as she neared it. It was almost as if her body knew that there was something about the room that held a mystery. The piece of her mind that always used to search for a story came alive like the lighting of a candle, and excitement coursed through her veins. She willed her feet to move at a normal pace as she walked to the end of the corridor upstairs. The handle of the door was unpolished, unlike the doorknobs of the other rooms she’d come across, and it took no small effort for Bell to push the door open with her shoulder. Her eyes went wide.

Utter chaos lived here, shrouded in a dank, musty odor. However, the oddest thing about the room was the fact that everything from candlesticks to the paint on the walls was blue.

Looking over her shoulder to be sure Mrs. Carter didn’t see her enter, Bell closed the door behind her and picked across the room. The blue bed was unmade, the blue curtains had been ripped halfway from the window, and the blue writing table had been left on its side. An irrational fear creeped up Bell’s spine as she went to the table. She would be doing no harm to right it. When she pulled the table to the empty wall, she looked around her with no small amount of confusion. What had happened here?

Her eyes caught hold of an old piece of parchment sticking out of the writing desk’s drawer. It turned out to be a letter, and Bell’s eyes instantly went down to the bottom of the page where it was signed: Linda. The writing was tidy, and small, crammed onto the page without any room between lines.

This was what had been calling to her. She could feel the story building in her mind like a stone mason built a wall. Bell folded the letter and sneaked it from the room.

She felt like a thief, like she had a handful of fire she was trying to hide. A chill ran up her back as if someone was watching her. That was nonsense. Sutton and Mrs. Carter were more than busy running the house, and Nathaniel was far from here—like he almost always was.

After stashing it under her pillow, she decided to take a walk. She’d read Linda’s letter later tonight when Nathaniel was at least in the next room over. For some reason, she felt a desire to have someone close when she read it in earnest.

The housekeeper didn’t bat an eye at Bell walking alone. That was one blessing of being married, for both Bell and Sutton. With how flat the area was, there was no chance of Bell becoming lost. She took the now familiar road that led away from Cairnsby Hall, not wanting to be seen being idle by her hardworking husband. After her meeting with Mrs. Carter, she didn’t know what else to do with herself. She had no letters she cared to write, and no one aside from her husband and a couple servants that she knew for miles and miles.

The distinct feeling of loneliness batted at Bell’s heart like a cat toying with a ball of yarn. Being alone had never bothered her before. She’d always had some story running around in her head keeping her entertained. Bell tried to conjure up a mental image of a fairy, but none came. She was so very alone. With Nathaniel working hard to support her, she expected she wouldn’t see much of him during the days. What would she do with her time?

Bell’s mother had spent her time making social calls, redecorating rooms, and checking over the household finances. She was also a part of every lady’s society in their earldom, which was not a few. Bell didn’t have anyone to make social calls to yet, and she had no desire to be in a ladies’ societies, if they even had them this far out in the country. Perhaps she could look into redecorating a room or two. It might give her imagination permission to wake from its enchanted slumber…

Turning back toward the house, Bell decided that if she were going to redecorate a room, it would be her own. Anything she could do to make herself feel more at home would be a boon to her spirit. Her brow furrowed—before she made any hard plans—she needed to know what their financial situation was. Her imagination would have to wait until she’d looked at the household ledgers.

Hearing a carriage approach from behind, Bell hugged the edge of the road while she walked. Dust kicked up after it passed, and then the horses slowed to a stop a ways ahead of her. Perhaps she should have brought Sutton after all. Walking alone wasn’t safe. If she should have learned anything from her experience with Nathaniel in the woods, it ought to have at least been to have someone with her.

The door to the carriage swung open, and a man with hair as blonde as the sunshine stepped down, waving at her. Bell relaxed instantly as she watched her brother-in-law, Mr. Frederick Hastings, hand down her sister, Rose. Bell hadn’t realized she’d begun running until she slammed into her sister’s chest and was swallowed up in a laughing hug. Tears leaked from Bell’s eyes. Whether they were happy or sad tears, she did not know.

Bell had never been proficient at hiding anything from Rose. What would her sister think when she saw the state of Bell’s marriage? Bell was thrilled to have her sister, but to see Rose’s happy marriage in stark contrast to her own was painful. Rose shared Bell’s dark hair, and smaller frame, but that was where their similarities ended. Rose held herself like a duchess and commanded a room with a glance. Bell was meant for holding up the walls when she was forced into large groups. Differences aside, having her sister here was like an answer to prayer. Rose could teach her what she ought to be doing, couldn’t she?

Rose pulled back and took Bell’s face in her soft hands. “Bell, I can’t believe you got married without me! Let me look at you.”

Bell averted her eyes and wiped her stray tears. “How was Italy?”

“We can talk about that later. Do you think I came all this way to talk about traveling? No, I came to see my sister, and meet her new husband. Do you have any spare rooms, or should we stay at the inn down the road?”