***
“You two should get on back inside, it’s freezin’,” Charlie said, though he’d repeated the words a dozen times at least over the past couple of hours, and Belle had refused to listen any of the previous times. Why the man should think she’d change her mind now ... though it was growing dark. But the idea that Edward was still out here somewhere, cold and alone and so terribly unhappy… He hadn’t come home last night, either, and the temperatures had been cruel and icy. Her heart clenched.
“Look ‘ere, Lady Winterbourne, ye sister is freezin’, take ‘er ‘ome at least.”
“I’m fine!” Crecy shot back, looking indignant, but Belle could see that Charlie was correct. Poor Crecy had been tramping around the estate with them all day, and she looked positively blue, shivering even beneath the thick cloak she wore.
“No, you’re not,” Belle replied, though she couldn’t hide her disappointment. She turned back to Charlie. “We’re never going to find him, are we?”
Charlie shrugged but his expression wasn’t encouraging. “The fellow grew up ‘ere, knows every inch of this vast estate. I reckon we won’t find ‘im if he don’t want t’ be found.”
Belle swallowed down a sob of despair, and Charlie’s face softened. He came closer and laid a hand on her arm. “I’ll keep lookin’ once yer back ‘ome, so don’t you fret so. He’s tough as old boots, is Eddie. Bit o’ cold ain’t enough to do for ‘im, I promise ye that.”
Trying hard to summon a smile, Belle nodded her understanding and prayed he was right.
“Come along, Crecy. Charlie is right, of course, and I can’t be responsible for you taking ill.”
“I told you, I’m perfectly fine, Belle,” Crecy grumbled, though her assurance was rather spoiled by the fierce way her teeth were chattering.
“Humour me,” Belle said with a smile, taking her sister’s arm. “We’ll keep looking on the way back.”
The three of them began the long trudge back to the house. Half the estate was out looking for the marquess, those that could be trusted not to gossip about the strange manner of his disappearance, that was. Though according to Garrett, that comprised pretty much the entire staff. Belle wondered if he had any idea how much esteem he was held in, the pride his staff took in him and his heroic reputation. She somehow doubted Edward would find any pleasure in the fact. Not at the moment, at least.
They were half way back when a distressed squawking sound was heard, and Crecy ran off into the undergrowth that bordered the path they were on.
“What the devil’s she up to?” Charlie asked.
Belle sighed. “Rescuing something appalling, I imagine,” she replied with a rueful smile.
Sure enough, when Crecy emerged again, with bits of twig and dead leaves hanging from her hair, she was holding a large bird, wrapped in a fold of her cloak.
“It’s a magpie,” she exclaimed, her lovely face flushed with triumph, though there was concern in her eyes. “The poor fellow has broken his leg somehow.”
“Poor devil,” Charlie muttered, giving the bird a leery expression. “Give it over, Miss Lucretia. I’ll take care o’ the wretched blighter for ye. Musn’t let ‘im suffer, eh?”
Crecy’s eyes grew round with horror as Belle’s heart sank. Now they were for it.
“No!” she exclaimed, looking at Charlie like he was guilty of murder. “I can mend his leg. He’ll be fine in a few weeks.”
Charlie grimaced. “An’ whatcha gonna do with the poor bugger ‘til then, ‘scuse my French,” he added, obviously remembering who he was speaking with. “Things probably crawlin’ with fleas, and ... ugh.”
“I don’t care!” Crecy flung back at him.
“Be kinder to put the thing out o’ its misery,” Charlie grumbled, shaking his head.
“Would you put me down as fast, Charlie?”
There was a collective gasp as everyone turned in the direction of the voice and saw Edward standing on the edge of the undergrowth.
“Eddie!” Charlie exclaimed. “Thank God!”
Belle could say nothing. Relief was a heavy lump in her throat, and it was all she could do not to cry and fling herself at her husband in relief, but there was something in his expression that held her back.
“Edward,” she managed, her voice thick with emotion. She walked over to him, horrified to see that he was wearing no coat. He was filthy, his cravat hanging loose around his neck, shirt covered in mud, and dark stubble giving him an even wilder appearance. But it was his eyes that broke her heart. “I’ve been so worried,” she whispered. She reached to take his hand, her fingers touching his for the briefest moment but he snatched his hand away.
“Don’t touch me!” he raged, sounding utterly furious. He snatched the cravat from his neck, flinging it away from him into the brambles. “Stay away from me. I don’t want you near me.” He was wild-eyed, his expression febrile, and Belle stumbled back, shocked and appalled.
“Edward?” she said, uncomprehending why he should be so angry with her. “Edward, please, what have I done?” her voice choked on the words but Edward just stalked away from her, his shoulders hunched.
Belle started as a heavy hand squeezed her shoulder. “You ain’t done a thing wrong, my lady,” Charlie said, his voice full of sorrow. “‘E’s just broken, is all. You’ve made such a change in ‘im already, but ... I reckon ‘im hurtin’ ye like that. Well, ‘e don’t trust ‘imself, does ‘e?”
“But it was an accident!” Belle exclaimed. “He was asleep, for all he knew I was a French soldier or something.”
Charlie smiled at her but it wasn’t a happy expression. “I know it, an’ you know it. But Eddie ... e’s all about in ‘is ‘ead. Reckon the fellow will try an’ keep ye far away from ‘im. Won’t want to ‘urt ye again.”
Belle nodded, knowing that Charlie was probably right. Edward wasn’t angry at her at all. He was angry at himself for having hurt her. Rather than face the possibility it could happen again, he’d run from her and any fragile trust that had begun to grow between them.
Well, Edward, that might be your decision, but it isn’t mine.
Belle looked up as Charlie’s voice broke into her thoughts. “I’ll see he gets warm an’ fed, m’lady, don’t you fret none.”
“You’re a good friend to him, Charlie,” Belle said, her voice full of warmth.
Charlie blushed a little and touched his fingers to his hat before striding off ahead of them.
“You can’t let him push you away, Belle,” Crecy said, her voice low as she stroked the head of the bewildered-looking magpie.
Belle smiled at her sister and nodded. “I know that, Crecy, and believe me, I have no intention of letting him succeed.”