Page 7 of Bluebell’s Fate

Nathaniel had heard stories about Countess Gardner, but he couldn’t recall what they had entailed, only that the stories were not flattering. “Your daughter did not share her name with me, my lady.”

One of the matrons stepped up to the countess’s side. “You see? Bluebell is a sensible girl. I’m certain she was only helping Mr. Payne.”

Another of the women spoke with her nose held high, an air of contempt as she spoke to the countess. “Certainly she is. But that does not change the circumstances.” Her false smile turned menacing. “She was without a chaperone, with a man, hidden in the woods for more than an hour. And upon exiting, she was not fully attired. There is but one option available to her.” She turned shrewd eyes on Nathaniel. “Are you married?”

Nathaniel clenched his jaw again. Who was this woman, and why would she want to force a perfectly respectable young lady into a marriage with a man she didn’t know?

“No, I am not.” He took a deep breath. This was not at all going according to plan. Nathaniel was supposed to offer for Miss Stone’s hand in marriage, not for an eccentric storyteller from the woods. He could think his way around this, and if he couldn’t…he’d do the honorable thing and offer for the lady. With how enchanting she’d been, marriage to her couldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Maybe he could figure out a way for this to end nicely for both of them.

The woman addressing him smiled in triumph and turned to the countess. “Well, you can thank the heavens on that score, although I can’t believe the scandal. My Merideth would never do such a thing.”

Although Nathaniel knew, very well, what was happening, he didn’t want to believe it.

He’d ruined Bluebell Gardner.

Silence stretched on as the women eyed him, waiting for him to say or do something. It was an option for him to deny what these women were implying had happened in those woods. To say that he hadn’t taken advantage of her, but that was a lie, and he refused to lie. To be dishonest was to be like his deceased brother, Edwin—that was never going to happen. He’d overstepped his bounds even more than these matrons knew. Besides, Nathaniel didn’t relish the idea of getting into a duel with Bluebell’s father, an earl.

Everything Nathaniel had planned and worked for was unraveling like a ball of yarn. That kiss was truly the best and worst mistake of his life, his downfall and hers. And it was now his moral obligation to marry the woman. Guilt and shame—two of the worst five-letter words—settled in Nathaniel’s middle. Was there any solution to the problem they faced?

He cleared his throat. “Might you allow me to follow your conveyance to your home, Lady Gardner?”

Lady Gardner reminded Nathaniel of a statue, pale and tortured.

The other woman who had spelled out Nathaniel’s situation with astounding clarity smirked at her other two companions. “Oh, I’ll be glad to deliver you home, Lady Gardner. I’ll take care of the remaining details for the assembly next Friday. Seeing as you’ll likely have your hands full.” She gave a fake smile of sympathy.

Lady Gardner never took her steely eyes off of Nathaniel. If she had the power to control the weather, he would likely be struck with lightning at this very moment. She nodded her head and glided across the road and into the carriage where Bluebell waited. The other women followed in her wake, like chicks following a mother hen.

Once the carriage began to move, Nathaniel jumped into his own equipage and cringed. He squeezed his fist until his fingernails bit into his palm. Why hadn’t he done the practical thing and stayed along the roadside? It was so unlike him to stray from what was predictable and practical. He’d started off his venture into the woods with a plan, making note of landmarks to lead him back. But at some point, he’d become hopelessly lost. He refused to believe that it was because he’d picked a silly flower. That was nonsense.

He sat back and rubbed his temples. It seemed, if Nathaniel wasn’t shot upon entering the Gardner home, he could soon be married to a woman who believed, quite strongly, of nonsense. Tension drained from his shoulders, and he slumped forward in the jostling carriage. His head fell into his hands. How would he ever make this work? The only reason he’d enjoyed being in the woods with Bluebell—what a ridiculous name—was because he was acting very unlike himself. The decisions he’d made when with her were not sound. They were playful and ridiculous.

If there was one thing Nathaniel knew about marriage, it was that it wasn’t playful. It was strategic and purposeful and stressful. His parents had started their marriage with just a small parcel of land. His father had made small, patient, practical improvements to their situation. Now they had a few tenants, more fields, and the family was financially independent. It hadn’t always been that way. But the financial stability caused his parents’ relationship to be less stressed.

Making their marriage work was difficult, even when his parents were of the same mind. It was one of the reasons Nathaniel wanted to marry Miss Stone—her logical mind was like his own. Nathaniel was not delusional. How would he fare with a woman as opposite from himself as the sun was from the sea?

To make matters worse, he would be late to collect his grandmother, and that was infinitely worse than being early—the very thing he’d tried to avoid. She would be displeased with him for that; he was chosen for the job because he was more dependable than his despicable cousin. But she would be even more upset that he was getting trapped into a marriage to a stranger.

Grandmother had been so excited to introduce him to the woman she’d wanted him to court. What was more, Nathaniel had been excited at the prospect. The woman his grandmother had refused to name had been built up in his mind over the course of the past few years. And now, he hoped he would never meet the beautiful, humble, vivacious woman of his grandmother’s acquaintance. First, his plans for marrying Miss Stone, then his opportunity to meet this mysterious woman…it seemed he’d be making a list of the women that could have been.

Nathaniel’s stomach dropped into his hessian boots as he looked through his window at the Gardner’s estate. Lady Gardner and her daughter had just ascended the steps to the house in haste. Nathaniel’s worries only grew. If there was no way around this marriage, how could Bluebell ever be satisfied living a life with him in a humble cottage? He stepped down from the carriage and walked up the creamy white stone drive.

Nathaniel rolled his shoulders back and stood taller. He would take responsibility for his own actions, but he planned to try to convince the earl that it was in the best interest of his daughter to pretend that this had never happened. If he did that, he might still be able to salvage his careful plans—both for his life, and for his day.

He was ushered into a study—the size of a small home—off the main entrance where an imposing gentleman without a hair on his head stood tall, hands clasped behind his back.

“Mr. Payne here to see you, my lord.” The butler bowed and shut the door behind him.

Lord Gardner glanced at the closed door and then gestured to a seat across a dark mahogany desk the size of a large four-poster bed. “It seems you are here on some serious business.”

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I’m afraid so, Lord Gardner.” He sat in a fine leather armchair as stiffly as though he were hewn from a piece of wood. “Have you been made aware of the purpose of my visit?”

The bald, formidable man gave nothing away in his face. “My wife, upon entering the house, swept my daughter to her room and informed me that you were coming to me with a problem.”

Nathaniel held his breath, waiting in vain for more. It seemed the countess hadn’t already filled her husband’s mind with thoughts of ruination, and he would have to explain his plight from the beginning. He could use that to his benefit.

Chapter Five

Bell hardly registered the whispers of her mother’s companions on the short, cramped drive to the front of their home. She was still stuck on the fateful line from Mr. Payne that brought her crashing down to earth, “Perhaps it is better that this remain a dream.”