Page 4 of Bluebell’s Fate

Her eyebrows knit together in a wonderful show of genuine confusion. “Excuse me?” She backed hesitantly away from him.

“You were telling a story, were you not?” He took a measured step back in an attempt to make this woman feel more comfortable.

“Maybe I was.” Her bearing shifted until she held herself like a queen in her court, confident and composed.

How could she be so unaffected by this meeting when he felt like he was standing on his head? It was nothing short of magic. Which meant…it could not be trusted. Magic wasn’t real. He shook his head, finally coming to his senses. “I must get back to the road. If you would excuse me.” He bowed.

“But sir, my earring.” She held out her hand again.

Although the temptation was great, Nathaniel fought against his inclination to pull her to him. What had come over him? He dropped the sapphire into the palm of her hand, turned on his heel, and trudged through the wood.

“I thought you said you were going to the road,” the woman said, following him. He detected a trace of panic in her voice.

“I am.” He looked around for that root that looked like a man’s knee. He didn’t see it anywhere. It was so unlike him to lose his sense of direction. It must be that the tree canopy blocked out his direct view of the sun. He continued scanning the ground for the root.

She pushed out a breath. “No, you are not. The road is behind us, and it’s quite a ways at that.”

He stopped and looked around. Even if he found that root, he wouldn’t know which way to go from there. Everything was green and covered in moss. The damp earth beneath him was covered in bluebells every which way he looked. After all his care, he’d still gone and gotten himself lost. What rubbish. He never got lost.

Swallowing a piece of his pride and steeling himself to see the angel again, he turned. “Would you be so kind as to point me to where I ought to go?”

She pulled her lips to the side and tilted her head. “You’ll get lost again without help. I’ll show you to the road.” She turned around and began weaving her way through gaps in the bushes.

Nathaniel hurried to keep up physically and mentally. What was it about these woods that distracted him so much? They were just trees and flowers. “You know these woods well, then?”

“Yes.”

“May I inquire as to your name, miss?”

“No.”

Nathaniel clenched his teeth in mild amusement. He needed to know who this woman was. Perhaps if he kept talking, she would reciprocate. “My name is Nathaniel Payne. I’m just passing through to gather my grandmother to take her to London.”

“That’s nice.” Her dark hair shone almost burnished gold in the shafts of sun that filtered through the canopy of trees above them.

Staring at her perfect form, hearing her singsong voice, he realized he wasn’t ready to be done with this moment. Soon enough, he would be back in a carriage, and his mind would revert back to cold, hard facts. He’d never had an experience like this in his life. And although he was at odds with himself at every turn, he found he enjoyed the sensation. “I guess I’ll have to fashion a name for you myself.” He clenched his fists behind his back to remind himself not to reach out to her. “I think I’ll call you ‘Flower.’”

“How original.” Her dry sarcasm scraped through each syllable.

He chuckled. “No, I’m not the original sort. It would be infinitely better for me to know your name.”

Nathaniel’s foot caught on a tree root, and he stumbled forward, catching himself just before his chest scraped against the moist earth.

He was an imbecile! Following after some woman he didn’t know, daydreaming about her hair. He stood and rubbed the palms of his hands together in an attempt to clean them.

“Are you alright?” The woman turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder.

He nodded numbly, following after her.

She slowed just half a step; or had he imagined it? No, Nathaniel didn’t imagine things—he saw them as they were. She definitely slowed half a step. The woman sighed. “As we have not been introduced, telling you my name would not be proper.”

“Ah, yes. But as you have been out exploring the woods without a chaperone, I would not think you put much stock in proprieties.”

“You are sorely mistaken, Mr. Payne. The only reason I am escorting you back to your carriage is to rid you from my woods. It is not often I have trespassers. The other option would be to leave you, but then you would be bound to show up again. You wouldn’t be able to find your way back without me.”

“You doubt me so heavily?” Why did that cause him pain?

She took a deep breath, turned and froze him in place with those sapphire eyes. “Mr. Payne, you have walked into my magical woods and picked a bluebell. Do you know nothing of the legends?”