Page 24 of Bluebell’s Fate

“Not many people do.” Nathaniel agreed. Then again, Miss Stone would have understood. He pushed the thought from his mind. Miss Stone was a part of his past. Lady Bluebell was his future. Bell was a woman any man would desire, and she was his. Nathaniel hadn’t needed more to add to his happiness, but—as Wilson reminded him—he was enjoying a remarkably good day. Seeing his enchanting wife at dinner would only add to his joy.

He couldn’t very well help smiling as he was. Everything was going just as he planned. Cairnsby Hall was running smoothly now that he hired Mr. Willowsby, one of his own tenants, to make repairs to the servant’s stairs. Mr. Willowsby was an experienced carpenter. Nathaniel would be able to pay Willowsby a decent amount, ensuring that his growing family would have enough to continue paying their rent comfortably, and he had confidence that the man would do his best work knowing it was for his landlord.

On top of that, Wilson had informed Nathaniel that Bell had met with Mrs. Carter and had taken a walk today. It sounded quite promising that his wife felt up to the task of acting as mistress of his home. Two people working together toward a common goal was always more efficient than one. He wasn’t in this alone anymore. Bell wasn’t the wife he had planned for, but maybe she could support him in a way he so desperately needed.

He hurried down the stairs with the energy of a schoolboy. The smells from the kitchen caused his mouth to water. His angelic wife waited for him just outside the dining room, dressed in the same sapphire blue gown she’d worn when he first saw her in the forest. Dinner in her presence each night would certainly be one of his favorite times of day.

He bowed over her hand and placed a quick kiss on the back of her white glove. Those gloves had been absent in the forest, and he wished them so again, just so he could feel the warmth of her skin. “You look beautiful, Bell.” He held out his elbow, and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the foot of the table. “How was your day?” He sat on the opposite side of the table and tucked into his meal.

Bell looked at her plate. “Fine, and yours?”

“Excellent. I’ve been able to hire a carpenter for Cairnsby Hall to fix the back stairway.”

Bell nodded. “I’m glad you found success.”

“My parents should be arriving back home in a few days. I’d like to have the project completed before they come. My mother hates a mess, which is bound to happen when a building project is underway.”

“And what are your plans after dinner?” Bell asked.

Nathaniel smiled again. “That is when I make my list for tomorrow. I think better after I’ve eaten.”

His wife took a dainty bite of her mutton stew and nodded again.

He followed suit, enjoying the delicious meal. His daily list accomplished, a hearty meal with a beautiful woman, and a home away from his parents’ disinterest in him would make for a happy life indeed.

Nathaniel skipped his port and joined Bell in the parlor after dinner. She pulled a book from the table and sat in a wingback chair. He sat on the other side of the room next to a small writing desk and pulled out his notebook and quill to make his list for the next day.

Check on Mr. Willowsby’s progress on the stairs.

Meet with the housekeeper for Cairnsby Hall.

Introduce Bell to the tenants.

Appointment with the architect in town.

It wasn’t every day that Nathaniel met with so many people. Many days, he went about doing the work to keep the estate running himself. But the architect in town was the only one who had the experience necessary to help Nathaniel finish his project correctly. And as Nathaniel no longer lived at Cairnsby Hall with his parents, he felt the desire to check in on things with his old housekeeper before his parents got home. Not that they would notice.

Nathaniel tucked the list into his jacket and leaned back in his chair as he watched Bell stare—eyes unmoving—at her book, and he suddenly realized that his wife had yet to turn a page. Either she was a very slow reader, or she was avoiding talking to him. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. He tucked his notebook into his waistcoat pocket, leaned away from his writing desk, and slowly tilted his neck side to side to relieve the ever-building tension that sat there.

Nathaniel wanted to say something to break the silence, but he didn’t have any idea of what to talk about. He’d already asked her how her day was at dinner. His hand immediately sought out his notebook, he patted it through his jacket, and thought about the list he’d just written. “Would you care to accompany me to meet our tenants tomorrow?”

“I met Mrs. Willowsby and Mrs. Dean on my walk today.”

Nathaniel’s head pulled back of its own volition. “Why did you not tell me?”

Bell’s eyes widened. “It didn’t come up.”

Did she expect him to ask her specifically if she’d seen anyone? What other type of information did one offer when someone asked how your day was? Nathaniel forced himself to smile. “And did you learn anything that could assist them?”

Bell tipped her head to one side, her eyebrows furrowed. “I learned that they were your tenants. It was a simple introduction.”

Nathaniel nodded his understanding. Apparently, she had not gleaned any information that he could help the families with. He may have been a little hasty when he’d assumed Bell was beginning to mold herself to his hopes. He made a mental note to not visit the tenants tomorrow after all. Giving them a few days before making a more formal introduction would be more appropriate, surely. “I’m glad you could meet them.”

Bell turned her attention back to her book, her cheeks pink, and Nathaniel pulled out his notebook again. What had seemed like companionable silence a few moments ago now felt heavy in his chest. He was aware of her every breath, and even more aware of her lack of turning pages in the book she held. He snuck a glance at the cover, but the aged book’s title was indiscernible.

He scratched off visiting the tenants tomorrow from his list, freeing up his afternoon. Nathaniel fought the urge to check his pocket watch, but the passage of time was difficult to decipher with the silence pressing in upon him.

The footing he had with Bell was unstable, maybe even nonexistent. They had been companionable and kind to one another. Surely, the responsibility they shared for the tenants would continue to grow, and eventually they would learn to work together. It had come with time for his parents.