Page 35 of Bluebell’s Fate

Nathaniel wanted to chide himself for even asking the question. Those were both things that Bell’s sister would have volunteered due to the shocking nature of the news. No, whatever was upsetting his wife was of a more personal nature, Lady Rose had been quite clear that others ought not overhear their conversation. Aside from that, he had no clues as to how to prepare.

He heard the innkeeper’s daughter approach with a small tea tray complete with some dry biscuits. Nathaniel smiled at her. The young woman had been on her feet all day assisting him as well as the other patrons who came inside as they either changed horses, put up for the night, or, like Nathaniel, met for business dealings. “Thank you, Miss Harris.”

Bell raised her eyes and watched their interaction. Her eye’s bold blue depths were filled to the brim with tears, making them look as large as marbles. His heart launched itself in his throat, and he reached his hand out to take one of hers.

She was stiff and cold; it reminded Nathaniel of a frightened rabbit. But why was she scared? Had someone unwelcome come to the cottage? Had someone been unkind to her? Certainly, with Lady Rose there, she enjoyed a degree of protection.

He drained his cup of bitter tea quickly, the hot liquid scalding his tongue and throat. He didn’t care. He was anxious to get to the bottom of the puzzle Bell created and relieve her from whatever it was that made her nervous.

Bell hardly touched the tea tray, so Nathaniel took the liberty of placing a biscuit in her hand. “Please, eat something. I’m worried you need strength.”

She obediently ate the biscuit and sipped her tea as she visibly fought back tears. It seemed Nathaniel’s harebrained idea of taking tea to settle her nerves was utter rot. No, he needed to get her outside. He could have smacked himself on the head. Of course she would be more comfortable outside. How had he not remembered that one crucial piece of his wife’s happiness after he’d been working toward it all day? His pocket notebook full of everything he knew about his wife wasn’t serving its purpose as he’d hoped.

Nathaniel stood and proffered his arm. “Can I escort you to a park?”

Bell also stood but ignored his escort, making a quick line to the door.

Nathaniel dropped his arm to his side, settled his tab, and followed her out onto the street. She waited just outside the door, playing with the strings of her reticule. He held his hands behind his back to combat being rejected once again. “There is a nice little park just a couple streets down if we cut through a small alley.” He began walking, and she followed half a step behind, like a servant.

The park was mostly empty save for a nursemaid who was playing with a gaggle of her charges under a clump of trees. Nathaniel went straight to the nearest bench, and motioned for Bell to sit, which she obediently did. He sat beside her and played with his cravat. “What is on your mind, Bell?”

He could see her swallow, her jaw clamped shut as if she could hold everything inside herself by sheer will. Nathaniel found he couldn’t allow that. They could sit out here all night for all he cared; he needed her to talk, to tell him what he was up against. He leaned back and put an arm behind Bell across the back of their bench. “It’s a fine day today, isn’t it?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, hesitant, watchful, and quite obviously suspicious. Then she turned from him and looked around the park. Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he could practically feel the fight leaving her body, even as she hastily wiped a tear from her cheek. “It is.”

Nathaniel bit back a smile at his small triumph. “What has you troubled, Bell? I cannot fix something I don’t know is broken.” He dropped his hand from the back of the bench and cupped her shoulder.

She stiffened once again. Was he the problem? He racked his brain to find what he’d done wrong. All day, he’d worked on removing his ties from Cairnsby Hall, on opening up his schedule to be allowed to spend more time with Bell. Had she changed her mind? Did she wish him far away? Was he that repugnant to her?

He removed his hand and brought his arms before him to rest his elbows on his knees. “I thought we were going to spend more time together.” His voice came out in a whisper, a wish, a question.

Bell sighed heavily beside him. “So did I. But then you spent all day away from home…again.”

Nathaniel nodded. “There were some things I needed to arrange so that I could be home. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going out.” Nathaniel played with the brim of his hat. There had to be more than this; it wasn’t just the matter of his being gone for one day, he felt the certainty in his core.

Bell folded her arms across her chest, as if she could make herself smaller, and protected. “What…things?”

“Oh, I simply needed to meet with someone to talk about a project.” He still liked the idea of surprising Bell if he could manage it.

“And how do you know the blonde young woman? She was quite pretty.”

Blonde young woman? Did he know a blonde young woman? The only young woman he could recall seeing today was the innkeeper’s daughter, and to be honest, he didn’t recall the color of her hair. “Miss Harris? The innkeeper’s daughter? I don’t know her, not really. She’s quite attentive, which is one reason I like to meet at the inn.”

Bell stood suddenly. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” She curled in on herself and paced away until she came to a tree, then sunk down onto the ground beside it.

Watching her hasty retreat caused Nathaniel to chasten himself as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. He left all day on a mysterious errand, to an inn with an “attentive woman,” a woman his wife described as pretty and that she didn’t want to know about. Bell had to think he was a cad.

He walked hesitantly toward her and sat down on the cool grass far enough away not to frighten her. “It’s not what you seem to believe.”

She shuddered and turned her face from him, her deep chestnut hair shimmering in the fading sun. “If only there were bluebells, I might believe you.”

“What?”

Bell took a long breath and then turned to face him. What he’d seen as hurt in her eyes had transformed into sharp anger. “In the legends of the bluebells, if a person is wearing a crown of bluebells on their heads, they have to tell the truth. But there are none here; their season has passed.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to pick bluebells, or you would wander lost.” And why were they talking about ridiculous bluebell legends again? None of it made sense.

Bell huffed out an unladylike puff of air and turned away from him. “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.” There was silence for a handful of heavy heartbeats. “I don’t want to know about your mistresses, Nathaniel. But I cannot give my heart to you knowing they exist.”