Page 61 of Bluebell’s Fate

Lord Gardner and Ash followed Nathaniel in through the door. Ash’s laughter carried through the room like a candle lit a cellar. “I love the rain,” he chattered as he pulled off his boots. “It is always most fun when we’re in your woods though.” He looked at Bell when he spoke. “Some of the most exciting fairy stories come when it rains.”

A reluctant smile crept onto Bell’s defeated face at her brother’s proclamation. “They were exciting stories.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Lord Gardner put a hand on Ash’s shoulder. Although Ash seemed to miss the mood in the room, the earl certainly had not. “We don’t want to get sick while we are traveling though. So, it’s best we go dry off and settle in for the night. I think we ought to take a tray in our room for dinner.” He gave a meaningful look to Nathaniel before he left the room. It was loaded with the expectation that Nathaniel would fix the situation before morning.

There was a long list of reasons Nathaniel had decided he loved having Lord Gardner and Ash staying with them at the house. He’d written it down. The most important of those reasons was the forced opportunity to share a bed with Bell while her father and Ash shared his room. Nathaniel had grown immensely fond of the way Bell’s head fit on his chest while she talked through her day with him. He was free to run his fingers through her beautiful dark hair and feel her breathing slow as she talked herself out each night, like a candle that would burn brightly until it ran out of wax. Aside from that, having a child in the cottage made the building breathe with life and excitement, even in the dullest of moments, and Nathaniel had found an unexpected friend in the earl. They wished Bell a goodnight and went to dry off and allow Ash to get the rest his growing body needed.

Bell pulled out her list for the picnic and glanced over it, a sadness settling over her countenance like he’d never seen before.

“What’s wrong, Bell?”

She didn’t meet his eye, but her shoulders slumped. “I have failed, quite spectacularly.”

“Failed?” Nathaniel walked around the table and knelt at its edge so he could see her. “What was it you were trying to accomplish?”

Mrs. Carter bustled behind him, gathering some sweets for a tray to set out, and giving him a small modicum of privacy. His grandmother made no move to leave, and she laid one of her wrinkled hands atop of Bell’s. The silence stretched on, but Nathaniel could wait for Bell to find her words.

“I wanted to show you that I could be helpful, that I could fit in and perform my duty as a hostess,” she finally whispered. “But everything I planned failed. Everything I expected was wrong. I’m…I’m sorry, Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “This is England, Bell. I don’t know a single person that can plan the weather.” He put his hand on her knee beneath the table. “And not everything failed. You’ve met the Stones, and Ash had a good time.” He wanted to lie to her, to tell her that everyone had enjoyed the short outing. But lying to her wouldn’t fix the way she felt.

Grandmother smacked the table with her free hand, startling them both. “We all have rough days, but that doesn’t mean we stop trying to have good ones, dear child.”

Bell nodded half-heartedly. “You’re right. I must be tired.” She pushed away from the table, and Nathaniel stood beside her.

“I’ll come up with you.” He didn’t want her by herself at the moment when her imaginations could get the better of her—it was simply too sad. They both kissed his grandmother on the cheek and walked slowly up the staircase.

Bell’s gaze lingered on her godmother’s bedchamber door before they turned into Bell’s room. There was so much she was keeping from him. He could feel it in the air between them, the thick tension of unspoken words and feelings. But what was it?

Nathaniel turned his back to Bell, and buried his nose in his notebook as was their tradition while Sutton helped her prepare for bed. Instead of writing down what he wanted to accomplish the next day, Nathaniel looked down at the written pages without seeing any of it. After Sutton left, Bell pulled the covers up to her chin, and turned to face the wall while Nathaniel prepared himself for the night.

Usually, he would crawl into the bed and blow out the candle, but tonight was different. Tonight, he needed to see her face, to read the story behind her eyes that she wasn’t telling him. “Bell,” he began, not knowing where his words would take him. “I don’t want you to fit in. I just want you to be yourself.”

Her back was still to him, her long dark hair falling over her pillow. He pushed himself to lay on his side, silently willing her to look at him—but she was more stubborn than he expected. She sniffed. “I am not organized, Nathaniel. I have a tendency to be late and forgetful, and I want to be able to help you with the estate.”

He expelled a pent-up breath. How could she not see all the good she was doing here? “Bell, you are more helpful than you give yourself credit for. You may not be precise, but you are compelling. Wilson and Mrs. Carter would take a bullet for you without thinking. You have us all wrapped into this cocoon of optimism and acceptance. I could not dream of a better mistress of my home: a woman who is so loving and caring that it inspires those around her to stand a little taller, work a little harder.”

Nathaniel touched Bell’s shoulder gently, and she slowly turned to face him, tears spilling across her cheeks. His heart seized at the sight. “I may be the backbone of this estate, but you…you are the heart. Without you, nothing would move and create the beautiful, masterful adventure that is our life.” He wiped a tear from her cheek.

She tried to smile, but more tears leaked from her brilliant blue eyes. “I haven’t been fair to you. About the conservatory. I wasn’t thinking.”

“What about the conservatory?”

“My words all came out wrong. I…I don’t want you to think you have to build me expensive buildings to make me happy. I don’t need them. Is that why you want to do it?”

It was. Nathaniel had counted the cost and deemed the amount worth it to see his wife happy. But since she’d shown so much tentativeness about his plans, he had begun to question. To be frank, he’d begun to question most things he thought he knew. “I do want to make you happy, Bell. But I also want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you.” Bell twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “Do you trust me?”

Nathaniel’s head pulled back a little. “Have I given you reason to think otherwise?”

Bell pursed her lips. The unspoken answer was clear. He had given her reason to believe he didn’t trust her. And he didn’t believe she was thinking about her ability to be on time to dinner. “What have I not trusted you with?”

“The finances,” she squeaked out. “I’ve asked a few times, and you never allow me to know where we stand. I…I don’t want you to be spending money we don’t have on a conservatory if there would be a better use for it.”

Nathaniel rubbed a hand down his face. All this time, he’d believed she thought him incapable. He was right, but not in the way he’d thought. She was worried for them, for their future if he made a rash decision on a whim. It was such a responsible and sensible request, he ought to have let her know the truth from the beginning—but his pride had gotten in the way. “I’ve been worried you would be overset by the numbers. We are not in dire straits, Bell…but I do not have the type of money your father does.”

“I don’t expect you to.”