Belle pulled on a warm shawl from her closet and began her trek to Netherfield. Red had gone yesterday, but had caught a dreadful cold from traveling in bad weather. Jefferson had sent news that he was keeping her in his estate until her sickness left. He was a fine man, a little silly, but nevertheless he had no trouble showing his affection for Red. A carriage rode by and Belle moved off the road so it could pass, the wheels spun across the dirt, flinging mud at Belle, who groaned in displeasure. Luckily it landed at her hemline, but she would be a mess when she arrived. Continuing her trip, she breathed in the clean air and scent of rain. She was greeted by the sight of Netherfield a little ways on, and it was quite the handsome estate. After a few knocks on the door she was taken in by a servant with a bemused smile on his face. The party was in the sitting room, and Belle felt abashed with her state. Jefferson stood upon noticing her, and Gold soon after.
"Miss Belle!" He greeted her happily and invited her to sit. Gold remained silent, but she could feel his eyes on her. "Red is getting better already, she hasn't even complained once."
"Hello Miss Belle." Abigail greeted her with a forced smile.
"Hello Miss Abigail." Belle replied with a shy nod.
"You look…well." She pegged the cleverly put insult onto the end.
"Oh, thank you. It was a long walk-."
"Walk?!" Abigail exclaimed.
"Oh yes, I love walking, especially after the rain."
"And your mother allowed this? Why did she not let you take a carriage?" Abigail inquired.
"Oh, I didn't want to trouble her."Abigail sat back on her couch, her surprise dimming. Belle did not see the incivility of taking a short walk. She felt Gold's eyes again and raised her eyes to him "Hello Mr. Gold." Belle bravely greeted him.
"Hello Miss Belle." He nodded his head. If he was impressed by her speaking up he did not show it. There was a moment of awkward silence afterwards and Belle asked of the state of her sister and Jefferson took her to Red.
"Did you see her skirt? Practically caked with mud." Abigail snorted after Belle had left with her brother.
"I did, but I am sure it was not of her own volition." Gold replied, and Abigail failed to come up with a snide comment.
"To take such a long hike, she must be quite a strong young woman." Abigail hoped this would put him off, after all, who would want a strong woman? They should be soft.
"I'm sure she is very strong." His reply came quietly, and Abigail felt as if he was not referring to her body. He picked up the quill sitting next to him and began writing on a spare piece of parchment.
"Are you writing a new novel?" Abigail asked, feigning interest. He knew she did not read his works.
"On the cusp."He replied, not taking his eyes off of the words he created.
"Oh, you should write a romance, a true one." She batted her lashes and he tried to hide his contempt.
He wrote in silence until Abigail grew bored and went to sew.
Belle was delighted to see Red was feeling better. The fever had only lasted a night and she would come home tomorrow. Thanking Mr. Jefferson, the two made their way to the lounge, where Abigail and Gold were sitting. Jefferson moved to pick up a small revolver that sat on the table. He inspected it and produced a cleaning towelette from a nearby drawer.
"Hunting season is coming soon, Gold. Won't it be such fun?" He polished the trigger with a quaint smile.
"Countryside like this must have a plethora of huntable game." Gold did not show an immediate interest in the sport, more like he simply went on with it for Jefferson's sake.
"Oh yes, I do hear the rabbits are quite numerous, is that true, Belle?" He directs his attention to her, his eyes dancing with excitement.
"My father is not interested in the sport, but I do notice most handsome white rabbit skins for sale in town regularly." She smiles.
"What does your father do?" Jefferson asked.
"He fancies tending flowers." Belle replied.
"How odd." Abigail interjects with a smirk. Belle only just recognizes the book clutched in her hands. It was Mr. Gold's oldest work. The story of the young man who wrote and destroyed all he had created. After he had published the fiction work he began writing of nature.
"Do you like that book?" Belle cannot hide her curiosity as she changed the subject. A revelation struck her, she could finally learn if this Mr. Gold was the author she so loved.
Abigail took the question as a sign of embarrassment of her father and smiled with victory. "I have only just begun it."
"Oh, I must tell you it is not a happy tale." Belle smiles and Mr. Gold's back remains turned to his desk. He was not the author then, and Belle tried to hide her disappointment. "I found his newer work when studying my father's library. Simple books on wildlife and trees were his modest beginning, yet the narrative to the pieces were quite moving. He is an old soul, surely."
"Yes, surely." Abigail gave her a confused look. "Mr. Gold!" She calls out. "What do you think of this Mr. Gold's writings?" She asked with a sly smile.
"Do you wish to goad me, Abigail?" He turns and his face is blank. "You know I hate that novel."
Belle formed the conclusion that perhaps a relative of his, or another man with the same name had written the tale she loved so dearly.
"I have to disagree with you, Mr. Gold. I find the novel unparalleled by any other modern literature."
Gold scoffed and Belle puffed out her chest angrily.
"Why did you bother reading such a novel if you despised it?" She asked, trying to mask her anger.
"I was young and had poor taste." He answered with a slightly turned head, as if trying to figure something out.
"Well, I think He should write more novels like this, that is if he has not passed yet." Abigail snickered, but Belle was not finished. "I believe he had little confidence in writing such personal things, so he separated his soul from writing, instead pouring it into descriptions of the bark of tree's and coloration of leaves. He could not stop writing, because he loved it." She finished and the room sat in silence for a time before Abigail stood and made her way to Belle.
"Let us walk about the room." She offered her arm and Belle stood mechanically. The two walked around the room and Jefferson remained invested in cleaning his precious gun. However, Gold did not, instead choosing to watch the women for a bit. Belle was too shy and too angry to meet his eyes, and once their circuits were complete left Netherfield with half hearted goodbyes and a heavy heart.
