Neal was in the library staring intently out a window when Gold finally found him. He'd left Belle in the hallway outside her door before coming to find his son. Neal had seemed distressed in the carriage, and Gold wasn't sure if it was sympathy for his new mother or if he was even more upset with his father than before. Neal turned around when the door closed and Gold suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore. He limped to his desk without making eye contact, sitting down and flipping through the ledger kept on the table.
"You could have warned me," Neal said after a few minutes.
"Warned you?" Gold replied. "About what?"
"About...her," Neal said with a frustrated gesture towards the other side of the house. "God, Papa, she looked like she was afraid I was going to eat her."
Gold had actually become rather used to Belle's general nervousness around men, but it wasn't until Neal mentioned her fear that Gold realized that it had been awhile since Belle had seemed terribly afraid of him. He'd assumed her added nervousness at been because of the wedding, but she had been staring at Neal fairly intensely.
"I did warn you," Gold replied. "You know what happened to her."
Neal was looking around as though one of the bookcases might suddenly spring to life and agree with him.
"I didn't know she was that upset!" Neal finally huffed, sitting down in a chair opposite his father. "Despite what you may think I don't spend a lot of time in the company of fallen women."
"There are two kinds of fallen, Neal," Gold said. "And they aren't all given a choice in the matter. I truly hope you don't meet many more like Belle."
Neal sagged in his chair a little, looking like a child who had been called to the carpet by his father. Gold pretended to look over some correspondence while his son thought about what he'd said.
"Do you like her?" Gold asked after a little while, still not making eye contact.
"This isn't what I meant when I said you needed a hobby, Papa," Neal said with a little tease to his voice. "And she's not said a single word to me yet. She's certainly pretty, and she seems sweet enough from what I've seen and heard of her. I'm not angry with you for marrying her, anyway. Do you like her?"
"I do," Gold replied. "She's good company. And she knows how to run a household and manage servants better than either of us."
"But do you like her?" Neal asked again. "You didn't just marry her for a housekeeper, Papa."
Gold sighed, leaning forward on his elbows to rest his face in his hands.
"I didn't, no," he admitted. "We've never exactly been close but I've known her for years. She's...not like this, son. When I knew her before she was excitable and cheerful and sweet."
Neal had his eyebrows raised and gestured for him to continue, but Gold wasn't even sure what to say. He didn't want to admit to anyone just how much it galled him that she'd been reduced to jumping at shadows and clinging to her father in the presence of strangers. He didn't want to think about it, because he wasn't sure what it meant.
"I couldn't let her marry Nottingham," Gold said at last, sitting up straight again. "I met the man at your club and wasn't particularly impressed. He'd have been cruel to her."
"You got all that from a few hours of cards?" Neal asked. "Granted, I don't much care for the man but you can't tell what kind of husband he'd be from that."
"I can tell," Gold replied.
He was trying hard to keep his voice even. Neal was bringing his father closer to things he didn't want to think of than the boy knew.
"How can you possibly know that?"
"I just do," Gold said, feeling his agitation rise. "The way that he talked and the way he spoke of her. Men like that...they can't help what they sound like. They speak like they own you, whether they have any power over you at all. And God help you if they do have power over you, because the last place you want to be is under the thumb of that kind of man. I couldn't abandon any woman to that fate, much less Belle. Men like Malcolm…"
"Keith," Neal interrupted his father's tirade. "Nottingham's name is Keith."
"Right," Gold replied, trying hard to still fingers that were rubbing against each other in a familiar little tick. "Keith. What did I say?"
"You said Malcolm," Neal said. "Who's Malcolm?"
"He's nobody," Gold said. "No one you need to worry about."
He could tell his son didn't believe him, and the boy seemed on the verge of asking after this new name when a knock on the door signaled Jefferson's arrival.
"Excuse me," he said. "But it's time to change for dinner. I wouldn't want your bride to think we keep a shoddy house, after all."
"Of course not," Gold announced a hair too loudly as he practically lept to his feet to follow Jefferson. "Wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea about you, after all."
He could feel his son's eyes on his back as he retreated to his room, but there was no way he could face Neal now. He'd come so close to giving up the secrets he'd hoped to take to the grave. Perhaps it was the coward's way out, but Neal was happier and better without knowing the truth of his father's past. There were some shames that couldn't be undone.
Dinner was awkward as hell. Belle was jumpy, Neal was sullen, and Gold was afraid to speak for fear of accidentally saying things he'd rather keep to himself. The slip in the library had been a dangerous place to go and he didn't want to risk returning.
Gold had spent an entire life running from where he came from, and in an instant he was back to being the little boy who had been helpless to protect the person he'd loved. He had utterly failed then, and he was beginning to suspect that was what had propelled him to marry Belle in the first place - the fear of being that child again, the fear of more children like that existing.
"The soup is lovely," Belle said at last, drawing the attention of both men to herself.
"Mrs. Potts will be glad to hear you think so," Gold replied. "This is a particular favorite of hers."
"Oh good," she said with a sweet smile. "I'll make sure to tell her I agree when I see her."
The conversation dropped off again after that. Gold was straining for something to say to her as the next course was served, but he was coming up short.
"How are you liking the house so far?" Neal asked, turning towards Belle.
Belle looked startled at his question and Gold was unsure how she'd respond. He would be the first to admit he'd rushed into this marriage, but that didn't mean he wasn't taking it seriously. He wanted to know about her, he wanted to learn her little tics and this was a big one.
"It's lovely," she said sincerely. "I spent all afternoon getting my things settled into my room, but I hope to look around a bit more later."
"There's not much to see," Gold said. "It's certainly not as grand as your father's home, anyway."
"I like it," she said. "It's...quieter."
"I'm sure," Neal replied. "It's a little too quiet for my tastes, honestly. I find I miss being in town if I'm away too long."
"Well, your business is there," she said. "I'm sure that must keep you preoccupied."
"It does," Neal admitted. "There's always so much to do."
"Yes," Belle replied. "Your father told me you're looking for investors. I can't imagine how difficult that must be between giving the presentations and then entertaining them. Have you been able to raise much capital?"
Neal was leaning back and watching her with something like awe in his eyes. Gold hadn't truly realized that Belle would know anything about business, but perhaps she'd been more active in her father's accounts than he'd been aware of.
"We're getting there," Neal said. "But there's always some new expense, too. It's a never ending cycle."
She nodded thoughtfully before replying.
"And this is for opening new markets?"
"In part," Neal said. "I also want to expand our production as well, though."
"I'm sure my father will be thrilled if it works," she replied. "As will your other investors, of course."
Gold had known she was clever and that she knew how to run a house, but he hadn't known that she was familiar at all with her father's business or any business whatsoever. She didn't seem smug like she was showing off for them, or even that she was aware this was any particular skill. She was just making polite conversation with his son.
Neal was definitely impressed, if his awestruck expression was anything to go by. Gold just wished the evening could go on forever, but he could see the telltale signs of her anxiety increasing as the meal went on. She was twisting her napkin in her lap and had begun rubbing her left wrist with her thumb over and over again. It wasn't surprising when she declined an invitation to join them for conversation after dessert and instead claimed exhaustion and retired to her room. What was surprising was how much he missed her company when she left.
He was starting to like being around her more than he had planned, and that was not strictly speaking a good idea. Most men would have loved to be in his position, a pretty young wife with a clever mind and good sense was a valuable asset, after all. But caring about Belle beyond the gentle sense of duty he already felt would only end badly for everyone involved. It was best to leave her to her space and to retain his own, no matter how empty that prospect suddenly felt.