Page 60 of Bluebell’s Fate

Ian stood up and walked toward the small copse of trees beyond where Nathaniel wanted to build the conservatory, stopping for a moment to speak with Bell’s father. In Bell’s mind, Ian’s hasty departure was as good as him admitting that he’d been lying about his courtship to Miss Eliza all along. But…why? What did he have to gain in telling such a falsehood? And why did the bluebells have to be out of season? She needed an entire woods full of them to get the truth of the past from this group of people.

Mr. Payne watched Ian go. “I believe we all want to see our children grow up to be happy,” he mumbled almost to himself, but loud enough that the entire company nodded along. Everyone except for Bell. She’d been watching Mr. Payne closely enough that she saw the raw emotion in his face. He watched Ian go as if he were his son.

It wasn’t in Bell’s nature to pry into matters where she didn’t belong, but the fairies’ mischief must have rubbed off on her. She needed only a little more confirmation to settle her case. “I’m afraid we’ve upset Ian. He must be missing his parents fiercely.”

Mr. Payne’s eyes flashed before he tucked his chin toward his chest.

Mrs. Payne set her hand atop of her husband’s and lifted her chin. “With luck, he’ll feel prompted to go home and take better care of his mother. He’s been acting like a boy long enough, don’t you think, William?”

“He’ll always be a child, deep down. Aren’t we all?” Mr. Payne drained his glass of lemonade. And Bell felt his words down to her toes. They weren’t the words he spoke; it was what was left behind that screamed in her ears.

Linda, the woman who had been gifted with a complicated love, was Ian’s mother. The way Ian looked so similar to Mr. Payne, the reason Mr. Payne always favored Ian over Nathaniel, all came into crisp focus for Bell. Ian was Mr. Payne’s son, his illegitimate son. The contents of the letter flooded her mind, and she tried to push them away. She wished she’d never read it. To know that the man from the letter was her father-in-law made her ill, and it explained so much. The truth was as easy to see as a book was to read if you were looking for the right signs. It was almost as if the fairies had led her to the conclusion, but she couldn’t deny the way the thought settled into her mind with the easiness of water flowing downriver. Bell clamped her mouth shut. It was all too much to process when she was supposed to be hosting a picnic.

Mrs. Payne pulled her lips between her teeth. Bell couldn’t help but wonder if she knew. Did she suspect that her husband had been unfaithful to her? That he had not only been unfaithful to her, but had scandalized her younger sister?

Then Bell looked over at Nathaniel, who watched his cousin with a tightness about his eyes. Did Nathaniel know? Ought she to tell him? No, the truth would only devastate this broken family even further. If the scandal came to light, Ian and his mother would be turned out of their home, and the estate would be passed on to Linda’s nearest male relative.

Bell fought the urge to throw herself into Nathaniel’s arms. She didn’t know if he needed the comfort, but she was certain that she did. Instead, she swallowed words she could not take back before she could say them. “Who is up for a scavenger hunt?”

Nathaniel smiled at her. “Only if I get to be on your team.”

Bell laughed lightly. “I don’t know if I can be on anyone’s team. I know where everything is located.”

“Precisely.”

Godmother stood and smoothed her skirts. “That sounds wonderful.” She turned to Mrs. Stone. “How is your hip feeling today? Would you like to be on my team, or would you like to stay behind and keep Bell company?”

Mrs. Stone looked relieved not to be the one to ask for an opportunity to stay back. “I believe I’ll stay with Lady Bluebell.”

“I admit,” Bell said, “that I made plans hoping Eliza and Ian would be joining us. What if the rest of you were all on the same team?”

“That’s a splendid idea,” Godmother said.

Ash bounded over, as excited as a puppy and looking more like a seven-year-old boy than Bell had ever seen. “What is the first clue?”

Bell motioned Mrs. Carter over. “Is everything prepared?”

Mrs. Carter brought over the folded piece of parchment Bell had prepared for this moment, and she set it into Mr. Stone’s hands.

He broke the seal. “Where is something at home yet remains outside?” he read.

A few moments of silence ensued. “The cottage?” Nathaniel asked the group.

“No,” Mr. Payne cut in. “It said something, not someone. What about the stable?”

Nathaniel nodded. “That sounds reasonable to me. Let’s go find out.”

Bell watched the group set off, praying the dark clouds rolling in would hold their contents for just an hour longer, but with the way her luck had turned out thus far, she highly doubted they would comply.

Chapter Thirty-eight

Nathaniel wished everyone was as optimistic as Ash. As it was, the less than ambitious group hadn’t walked for more than three minutes when thunder clapped overhead. Nathaniel looked over his shoulder to see Bell helping Mrs. Stone toward the cottage and their waiting carriage. It seemed the scavenger hunt would be cut short. Heavy drops of rain began to dot his jacket as they turned back. It was one more thing that had gone awry. One more thing to mess with Bell’s well-planned event. His heart went out to her. Her spirit was likely to be crushed. He still didn’t understand why she was so set upon the picnic being just perfect, but even he had to admit it was a dismal failure. Everything that could have gone wrong, did.

His parents hurried home through the rain, not wanting to wait out the storm in the cottage. The Stones’ carriage pulled away carrying wet, and likely somber, inhabitants. There would be no second chance for a first meeting with them and Bell. They would recall the awkward exchanges about Edwin and Ian, and Bell’s failed attempts to plan a simple outing. Nathaniel pulled off his worn hessians, and left them just inside the kitchen door, not wanting to track mud through the house.

His wife was at the kitchen table with his grandmother and Mrs. Carter. Bell’s head was in her hands, and her shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Don’t fret child,” Grandmother whispered. “There will be time enough for more picnics.”