When she awoke the next morning, Belle didn't really feel any different. It was actually a little disappointing; she'd put so much time and effort into this and pushed herself and him so hard and now...had it meant anything in the end? Of course she'd enjoyed it, and she was looking forward to doing it again, but she'd thought it would make her better and she just felt the same. The revelation settled like lead in her belly, because if this wasn't good enough to make her better then what would ever be enough?
That was entirely too much melancholy for what should be a happy morning, she decided. She wasn't having one of her bad days, and that would have to be enough. Regardless of anything else, she'd achieved something the night before, no matter that it hadn't been quite what she'd thought. She rolled over and burrowed into Rhys' side as much as she could. He roused just enough to wrap an arm around her before settling down again. He was warm and he loved her, and she wanted to bask in that and forget the parts of her that were broken for just a little longer.
"Good morning," he said after a little while, alerting her to the fact that he had woken up. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did," she replied, curling up closer than before. "Do we have to be awake yet?"
"No," he said. "We don't have to do anything you don't want."
She smiled at that and closed her eyes to try to stay with him as long as she could manage. Eventually, though, life intruded.
"What's that sound?" she mumbled, already knowing what the answer would be before he gave it.
"There's a horse in the drive," he replied, rolling away and looking around for his clothes. "We should probably get up."
She sighed and climbed out of bed. He'd already begun putting his pyjamas on, and he held her dressing gown out for her to slide her arms into it, even going so far as to pull her hair out of the back of it for her. There was a quiet sort of intimacy between them that hadn't been there before, and she took heart from that. Belle watched as he finished dressing and she kissed him on the lips as he left for his own room to get properly dressed for the morning.
Things seemed a lot brighter after the way Rhys had looked at her that morning, and she was feeling almost relieved as she rang for Lizzie to come and dress her. Belle still usually did her own hair, but she needed Lizzie to lace her into a cream-colored silk tea gown with a pink robe. It had been one of the last things Belle had bought before she'd been hurt, and she'd never worn it before. It had seemed to be too pretty and too special for when she'd been sad, so she'd put it to the back of her wardrobe and waited until the day came when she might be entertaining again. Well, she was through with waiting to wear it. Today was special enough, and she was looking forward to wearing the dress.
It took a bit of time to do her own hair, and by the time she was finally ready to face the day it wasn't surprising that Rhys was already out and about. She was, however, a bit startled that he was waiting for her in her library, a place he generally avoided unless she invited him into. The fact that he'd been waiting meant something big was happening.
"Did we have news?" she asked him, holding herself steady on one of the chairs.
"There was a message from your father," Rhys replied, coming towards her and offering her the letter. She didn't take it - she couldn't focus on the words and she wanted to hear his voice and not her own mind. Fortunately, he seemed to understand and volunteered the information before she could ask for it. "Your cousin is home. We're invited to come visit with them and meet his bride-to-be at our earliest convenience."
"Oh," she said, finally taking the paper he'd held out to her. "Well, that will be nice."
She shouldn't be upset. This wasn't a surprise and she had to remember that. His marriage had been a foregone conclusion, she'd known it was coming, and even before her own marriage, she'd known that this life was lost to her - but that didn't make it much easier to accept that someone else would be benefitting from her misfortune. Even through all that, though, Belle was desperately aware that all the men in this situation would be watching her reactions to try to gauge her mental state and her recovery. She would be damned if she let any of them think she was anything but totally sane. She was not going to convalesce again and she'd never survive another few weeks of sitting alone in her room with no distractions to 'disturb' her. She'd rather die, and she was going to keep herself together at any cost.
"I don't think we have plans tomorrow, do we?" she asked him at last, glancing at the lines her father had written. "Unless you have plans?"
"No," he said. "If you'd like to visit tomorrow, I can make myself available."
"Good," she replied. "Then I'll write to let them know."
He stood watching her and she felt his eyes as she walked to her writing desk to pen a reply. She had to be normal, and she had to look it. She didn't want him to pity her, she was happy and she wanted everyone to know it. It didn't matter that she was jealous or whatever it was she was feeling, she didn't want anyone to think it lessened her satisfaction with her life. All she wanted was for everyone to know she was happy in her marriage and that she was going to be all right. Belle had worked so, so hard to get to where she was and this was threatening to bring everything crashing down around her ears.
Belle schooled her features into a mask of calm as she started putting pen to paper. The careful scratching sound of her pen was something corporeal to hold onto while it felt like her life was slipping away from her, and she focused on that and the thick line of ink on clean paper until finally Rhys came over and kissed the top of her head so gently she thought it might break her. Thankfully, he left quietly and she was alone with her thoughts for awhile. She took her hurt and resentment and bottled it up and shoved it away. She would deal with it later when the wound wasn't so fresh and when she didn't have anyone watching her for the slightest sign she'd fall back apart.
Once the note was written, Belle sealed it and went downstairs to find Grace. She'd give the girl a penny to take the note over and then she would seek out her husband. The last thing she wanted was for him to think her heart was otherwise engaged, and she also just wanted to see him. Rhys was her husband, and she was dedicated to making that marriage work - it had to work. Besides, she'd specifically put on the tea dress for him and she refused to let this news ruin it for her.
oOo
It had been ages since Belle had been back to her father's house - since that last dinner before Gaston had left - and returning to it already had her on edge. She'd not gotten much sleep the night before anyway, instead she'd laid in bed watching her husband as he slept and trying very hard not to feel like she was betraying him by being upset. He'd already been so patient and kind with her, how could she possibly wish for anything else? The answer, of course, was that she didn't really want that life - she just wished she'd been able to decide she hadn't wanted it for herself. It was a life that she'd been told she wanted from the time she was a baby and then one day it wasn't an option for her anymore.
Rhys had handed her carefully into the carriage and rode with her in strained silence on the way to tea with her family. She wrapped her hands around his and tried to ignore the way her skin itched the closer they got to the place she had once called home. Everything felt too tight as she stepped down into the drive and all she wanted to do was run but it was too late, because they were expected any moment.
She clung to Rhys' arm as they walked up to the door and were granted entrance by a footman who she instantly recognized. He gave them a wide berth that made Belle's heart sink. Everyone here would be expecting her to fail and she knew that she would never be able to hold it together for the entire visit if everyone would be so worried about her reaction. It was all she could do to paste a smile on her face before they made it to the drawing room. Her father and Gaston both jumped to their feet to greet them, and behind the two of them Belle caught a glimpse of a dark haired woman about her own age and an older lady who Belle presumed was a chaperone of some variety.
"Belle," Gaston said. "It's been too long."
"It has," she replied as easily as she could before greeting her father. She just had to get through this tea and she could go home and breathe.
At last, the moment of truth. The dark haired woman came to stand next to Gaston and introductions were being made. Belle's blood was rushing in her ears, but she had to maintain some sort of composure. She dug her nails into her palms as the young lady was introduced as Miss Ruby Lucas of New York and her grandmother (who would be staying until at least after the wedding). It was almost impossible for her to focus on the rest of the conversation with the way air was refusing to stay in her lungs. She clung to her teacup for dear life and tried to just look shy and retiring as everyone else carried on a conversation without her.
The tea and cakes tasted like home, it was a recipe she'd known her whole life and one of her favorites. And Belle's stomach was clenching as she looked around at the reminders of her life before. She was overwhelmed with nostalgia and memories - both good and bad - and the horrible realization that there was no going back. She could not ever return home or bring things back to the way they had been before. She was homesick, and there was nothing to fix it.
That revelation was still rumbling around in Belle's head when there was a crash from the hallway. Everyone else had turned towards the door and then as one they turned to face her and it took her a moment to realize that she'd screamed and dropped her plate at the sound. The entire room had gone quiet at her outburst; nobody seemed to know what to say. It was Gaston who first acted, jumping to his feet and dashing to the hall before returning with news that one of the maids had knocked over a candlestick - but there was no recovering the mood and it wasn't long before the party broke up.
She couldn't remember a single thing that had been said during the tea, she just knew that she'd made a fool out of herself.
oOo
Rhys was carefully watching his wife, and he wasn't sure what to do besides wait for her to reach out to him. She'd begun that nervous tic of dragging her nails along her left wrist, which she'd not done in his presence since the early days of their marriage. She was also practically vibrating with a nervous energy and had been getting progressively more agitated since the day before. She was staring out the window and rubbing her wrist harder and harder and finally he couldn't watch anymore.
"Belle," he said gently, drawing her attention. "You keep scratching your wrist, darling."
She was looking at him blankly and he had the unsettling feeling that she wasn't quite seeing him. He was unsure whether or not to risk touching her when suddenly her eyes seemed to snap into focus and she buried her hands in her skirts.
"I'm sorry," she replied, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I don't even know why I'm so upset," she hesitated just a moment before continuing. "You're not thinking of sending me into an asylum, are you?"
He had absolutely no idea where that thought has come from. She was biting her lower lip, and he just wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her but he didn't dare make any moves toward her without permission. She'd become much more comfortable with him in recent weeks, but something about this meeting had her regressing to behaviors she'd all but abandoned.
Instead of pulling her towards him, he dropped to his knees on the floor of the carriage. His ankle was screaming, but he knew she felt more comfortable when he was prone like this and she needed some sort of reassurance. Rhys didn't immediately touch her, because he knew she would need time to decide if she wanted to reject him. The tears that had been forming were now flowing down her face silently, and he reached up slowly as he could giving her plenty of time to move away from him and gently brushed a tear off her chin before it could fall onto her dress. She suddenly gasped and ran her fingers into his hair, petting him and touching whatever parts she could reach as she sobbed out whatever it was that she'd been keeping in.
"I'm sorry," she murmured as she cried. "I'm so, so sorry."
He shushed her and set his hands on her thighs so she could see where they were.
"Sweetheart, you've done nothing wrong," he replied. "and I'm certainly not going to send you away. You've just had a bad day is all, we can try again tomorrow."
"I don't know why I'm so upset," she said. "I really don't. I'm happy with our life. Truly, I am. I just...I don't know. I hate that I didn't get to really choose this one over that one."
He nodded and she crumpled onto the floor with him, leaning into his chest and letting him put his arms around her. It was brutally uncomfortable to be curled up on the floor like that, but it was a short ride and at least now he was able to get his legs out from under him.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me," he said softly. "I understand."
"I've been locked away before, you know," she said, and he held her tighter at this confession. "For weeks when I was in London."
"Oh, Belle," he whispered into her hair. He just wanted to save her again, but there was nothing left to save her from.
"It was torture to be alone with my thoughts like that," she continued. "My wedding was off, I had no friends left, and it just felt like my life was over. So when they let me go, I went to the apothecary and I bought some arsenic and…"
She sniffled and dissolved into tears with her cheek buried in his neck, but he could imagine the rest well enough.
"There's no shame in that," he replied quietly, cradling her tighter. "Nobody could blame you for it."
"I just couldn't face it anymore," she said. "And then when I came back here it was months of nothingness and despair and then suddenly you showed up and you wanted to marry me and that was the first time anyone let me choose anything in so long...I chose to marry you and to love you and be here and I don't regret it."
"I'm glad," he replied earnestly. "I don't regret it either."
"I just wanted you to know," she said, sniffling a little but sounding calmer. "I just...I think being back there brought back a lot of the memories and emotions."
"So we have them over later," he said. "When you're feeling up to company we'll send a note."
She nodded and he had the urge to wrap her up in his arms and never let anything tragic ever befall her again, but he could hear the change in the sound of the wheels as they began traveling up the drive, and he helped her back to the bench before pulling himself up next to her. She was dabbing her face with a handkerchief and she was so beautiful and strong.
"I do love you," she replied as the carriage began to slow. "I know we had a rough start, but I don't regret this."
"I love you too," he replied, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. "And I don't regret it, either."
