Page 18 of Bluebell’s Fate

Free and brave. Was that how he saw her, not always of course, but at this moment? She pushed her mind back to just moments before, the embarrassing kiss of gratitude, and her naively throwing herself into his embrace. Yes, she was decidedly acting more brave due to her story. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? She could feel heat rising in her chest. “I believe that story is for me alone.”

“And will that story continue when we leave here?” Did his voice sound hopeful, or nervous? And how long would it take for her to understand his thoughts by the tone of his voice?

“I hope so.”

He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her gaze to meet his. “And I hope that one day, your life isn’t something you have to escape. That your reality is better than any story you could tell yourself.”

Bell’s soul ached and she shook her head. He had no notion of how real her stories felt to her. For her reality to be better than a story, there would have to have been a better beginning to their marriage. It would have to be based on love. As it was, there was no chance of her living that happily. Still, she would try, because she told her godmother she would. Besides, if she didn’t try to make the best of the situation, she suspected her soul would wither and die, like a flower without water. “Godmother said that our marriage will be a grand adventure.”

Mr. Payne pulled her close, causing Bell to stop breathing altogether. He rested his forehead against hers. “A grand adventure? I would like that.”

“So would I.”

Chapter Twelve

Nathaniel closed his eyes. He wanted to keep Bell here, in these woods, forever. They did belong to her. Maybe they could build on this land.

He swallowed. Even if Bell wanted to live here, it would never work. Nathaniel had an estate to manage. People relied on him, and he was not one to shirk his duties.

But what of his duties as a husband? He was holding his new wife in his arms, forehead pressed against hers. Bell though, was far from him, at least in her mind. She was escaping the reality of being alone with him.

That thought sobered Nathaniel more quickly than if he had been doused with a cup of cold water first thing in the morning. He pulled gently away and held her gaze. “Is there anything you need to retrieve, anything you want to do, or anyone you want to see before we begin our travels?” He wanted to reach the inn before nightfall, as their journey to Cairnsby Hall would take a couple days.

Something flashed in Bell’s sapphire eyes that he could not read. “I believe my mother has seen to all the preparations. I just need to say my goodbyes.” And with that, she stepped away from him, squared her shoulders, and turned back to the house.

Nathaniel wasn’t about to let her walk out of the woods alone. The irony of the thought was not lost on him. If only he’d allowed her to do just that a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have been forced into marrying him. He jogged a few steps to catch up to her and held out his arm.

She dipped her head in acknowledgement and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Her touch was light and impersonal once again. He didn’t know if that meant the story inside her head was over, or if the story she told herself had changed completely, but he felt like he was walking beside an entirely different woman than the one he had been holding in his arms a few short moments ago.

He left Bell with her parents to say her farewells, gave his own polite bows, and accepted congratulations as he made his way to his waiting carriage, a very different quality of vehicle than that which carried them from the church to Gardner Manor this morning. She would likely be sore from their travels far quicker than she was accustomed to. He ran his hand along one of the horses’ manes as he walked beside it. “Ready for the journey, old girl?”

“I’m ready,” a female voice said.

Nathaniel turned. Bell, with a small valise clutched in her hands like it was a shield, stood just behind him. How long would it take for him to memorize her tones and know her voice in an instant? She was escorted by the little Lord Winberg, her lady’s maid behind.

The boy stepped forward. “Might I have a word with you before you leave, Mr. Payne?”

“Certainly, Lord Winberg. Just allow me to help your sister get situated first.” Nathaniel took Bell’s trembling hand and helped her and her maid into the carriage before he shut the door. Hopefully she could get over a portion of her nerves while he spoke with her little brother. “What is it you would like to speak about, my lord?”

The miniature gentleman with a starched collar led the way to the front of the horses. “She’s nervous,” he accused Nathaniel.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Nathaniel put his hands on his hips. “To be honest, so am I. I’ve never been married before. I’m afraid I’ll make a mess of the whole thing. And that is precisely the last thing I want to do. Your sister deserves better than me, I realize this.”

Something Nathaniel said must have struck home for the boy. His small chin trembled the slightest bit. “I know. She deserves the best. I’m going to miss her. Father told me it is not appropriate for me to come with you to your estate. But he said that I might visit. When would be a good time for that?”

Smiling, Nathaniel bent down so that he met the little lord eye to eye. “Give me a few weeks to see what headway I can make. Feel free to write to her as often as you desire, but I anticipate you coming to visit us very soon.”

Lord Winberg stuck out his hand as if they were striking an important deal, and Nathaniel took the small, proffered hand in his own. “One last thing,” the little boy whispered, “don’t let her be by herself too much. She needs real people too.”

Nathaniel pursed his lips together and nodded. “Luckily, I am fairly certain I am real. I will remember that, and I will remember to notice her, like you told me a few weeks ago. I look forward to your stay.”

They walked back to the carriage door, and Nathaniel stepped up.

“Goodbye, Bell!” Lord Winberg called to her, sounding much more his age. “I’ll see you soon. I love you!”

A tear ran down his new wife’s cheek as the carriage set off. Nathaniel had absolutely no idea what to do with a watery woman. He held out his handkerchief and turned to face the window to give her some privacy. He was bringing a veritable stranger to his home, a woman filled with emotions. How was he to predict the outcome of his actions when emotions were not measurable, not constant, not predictable? What, in short, had Nathaniel gotten himself into?

It was almost supper time before the castle fortress and cathedral came into view. They’d made it to Lincoln. The last rays of sun made the yellowish stone look gold. Nathaniel always did enjoy stopping here. To see what people had built hundreds of years ago, to see that it still stood, was good for his spirit. He wanted to build something that would last in his own little corner of the country, and it was inspiring to see evidence of that effort done long ago. He knew he wasn’t building a fortress, or a cathedral, he was building a home. But for all intents and purposes, he wanted his small estate to feel like both. A place of safety, both physically and spiritually. A place that thrived, where people felt like they belonged.