Page 22 of Bluebell’s Fate

As the carriage rolled around the edifice, Bell flitted back and forth like a hummingbird, making quick, light sketches in her book. Nathaniel bit the inside of his lip to keep from saying a word. Her demeanor while drawing reminded him of their first meeting, when Bell was confident, commanding, and happy. It was unlikely Bell realized how free she became when she ignored his presence entirely and focused solely on getting down as many details as she possibly could. It was Nathaniel’s first glimpse of her creativity since they’d left her woods.

Eventually though, the cathedral faded from view, and Nathaniel switched back to his original seat so that Bell and her maid could sit forward facing once again, as was proper.

He fought to keep his eyes open as he watched his wife shade in the lines of her drawing, but it was no use. The carriage was far more comfortable than the floor had been, and before long he knew only sleep and the rocking of the carriage.

Chapter Fifteen

Bell finished her drawing of the cathedral to the best of her memory. She’d started quite early this morning—soon after she’d realized that her husband had disappeared in the middle of the night, to be precise. Where he had gone…she truly did not want to know. She tried not to think about it, but really, how many places would a rake go in the middle of the night? And wherever that had been must have been pleasant, as he’d looked as handsome and youthful as the Greek God Adonis at breakfast.

She looked across the carriage at him again. Her fingers itched to draw him, to memorize his features when he wasn’t looking at her with a crease on his forehead, like she was a stray dog he didn’t know what to do with.

Just as she turned a new page in her sketchbook to get started, Nathaniel’s head jerked to the side, his eyes still closed. “Get below decks! I’ll save you from the pirates!”

Bell covered her mouth with her charcoal blackened hand, stifling a laugh. Apparently, her husband talked in his sleep. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face as she sketched him quickly. She didn’t want him to awaken to see the likeness of himself as a pirate. A very handsome pirate, she admitted to herself.

She needn’t have worried about rushing the drawing, for Nathaniel slept the entire journey, even through the two stops Bell had prompted the footman to make so she could stretch her legs a little. Blessedly, she’d also been able to eat without the worry of Nathaniel watching her movements like a mother hen. Overall, the day of traveling had been far more pleasant than the previous day, especially with Nathaniel’s random sleep-riddled statements keeping a smile on Bell’s face. Apparently, he was not a fan of snakes, and he imagined himself to be quite the hero in some of his dreams. It was comforting for Bell to know that he didn’t always dream about his small pocket notebook.

The landscape had become mostly flat, and the sky overcast. Bell had no idea where they were, but judging by what time she thought it was, and as Nathaniel had told her they would arrive by supper, she was quite sure she was looking out at what would become her new home. Fields, orchards, and small houses dotted the landscape. How different this was from what she was dreading in London. There was space here, and likely not many families of high standing. It was a blessing in and of itself that Bell wouldn’t be forced into polite conversation each night.

The carriage slowed, and the footman handed Bell down. “Welcome to Cairnsby Cottage, my lady.”

Bell thanked the footman and walked toward a small two-story wood cottage. The walk was lined with fragrant flowers in freshly turned earth, and the shutters on the windows were painted a cheery blue. Its peaked roof and old windows were charming. There appeared to be more land and a few trees beyond the cottage.

This was her new home. She took a deep breath. It was likely smaller than any building she had set foot in save for when she helped her mother deliver baskets to their tenants, but it seemed cozy and inviting.

The sound of boots clipped behind her as Nathaniel hurried up the path to stand beside Bell. “I’m afraid I’ve been an abysmal traveling companion. Please forgive me.” He took her hand and kissed it.

A spark leapt into Bell’s heart before she remembered that this type of interaction was tame for her husband. He had kissed her, after all, following only a brief encounter. “You were tired. I do not blame you for resting while you could.”

He cocked his head to the side and searched her eyes as if there was something else she wished to say. But Bell wouldn’t allow him to draw more out of her. Nathaniel broke their eye connection and looked at the cottage. “I know it’s small. But as my parents are still alive, they live in the big house at Cairnsby Hall. We will go there often, I am sure. You will not be confined inside these walls.” He gestured to the cottage as if it were a pile of rubbish.

Bell was immediately affronted. How dare he not see the charm in this place? “You may spend your time wherever you please, Nathaniel. But I already have a kinship with this cottage.” She turned toward the house. “Shall we?”

Her heartbeat quickened. Why was it her feet became cemented to the ground? It was as if her body was telling her some great piece of information, if only she could understand it. There was something wrong. The thought came to her with a crisp clarity. If she walked across that threshold on her own, she just knew her perception of the cottage would change entirely. A bride was supposed to be carried across the threshold of their new home, or evil spirits would plague their marriage. The last thing she needed was evil spirits; their marriage didn’t have a leg to stand on as is. Did she dare ask Nathaniel to carry her? The mere idea of Nathaniel choosing to carry her through that door on account of it being a romantic gesture was laughable. He’d shown her no special attention the past two days—it was a fact that she was simultaneously frustrated about and relieved her.

Nothing about her thoughts lately made much sense. Before her marriage, the way her mind worked never bothered her—it had been part of the magic. However, Nathaniel didn’t believe in magic, and so she found herself glued to the cobbled stones with indecision. She was only ten paces from that door. She bit her lip. Could she risk the wrath of evil spirits? Did she dare risk that they weren’t real?

Nathaniel tugged her hand so that she stepped closer to him. “Together?” he whispered; he must have seen her fear as plain as if it were written out in a book.

Bell swallowed and nodded, but she felt herself trembling. For a new bride to be carried across the threshold of their home was a ridiculous tradition, wasn’t it?

Apparently, her lack of confidence infused Nathaniel with a measure of confidence himself, for he swept her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a young child. He was going to carry her across. A smile split her face as she looked into his hazel eyes. Somehow, he’d known what she needed. He strode purposefully into the house and turned into a small parlor off to the left before depositing her on a rich purple settee. “Welcome home, Bell.”

She patted the seat next to her. “Thank you, Nathaniel.”

He sat close to her, their legs touching. Did he feel the desire to be close to her as she did him? And why was she terrified of the man one moment, and entranced by him in the next? She expelled a breath and allowed her head to lean on his shoulder. Something deep in her soul relaxed as she allowed herself to lean upon her husband. Home. This was home.

She looked around the parlor. There was a small desk in the corner, a settee, two chairs, a low table, and a fireplace, crackling merrily. It was quaint, cozy, and perfect. She didn’t need vaulted ceilings and expensive fabrics.

“Would you like to take some refreshment, or would you prefer a tour before dinner?” Nathaniel’s breath tickled her neck, and her skin broke out in tiny bumps, her traitorous body reveling in his closeness, even as her mind still debated how much she could trust the man.

She raised her head. “I’d love to see the rest of the house.”

An older woman about the age of Bell’s mother with a cap on her head bustled into the parlor and dipped a curtsy. “Please forgive my absence upon your arrival, Mr. Payne. I’ve been in the kitchen and didn’t hear the carriage.”

Smiling, Nathaniel stood and addressed the housekeeper. “Think not of it, Mrs. Carter. May I introduce you to my wife, Lady Bluebell Payne?” He held his hand out to Bell and pulled her to her feet.

The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy. “Delighted to meet you, my lady. And what a pretty sight you are.” Mrs. Carter shot an amused glance at Nathaniel.