XXXIII

"I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you." Paul Coelho, The Alchemist

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XXXIII.

Belle abandoned her breakfast and darted out into the foyer to meet with Peter. The moment he saw her, he smiled.

Belle felt such warmth and security when she was in Peter's presence, especially now that she had returned to Ashwood. Though she knew that she was safe here, and that no harm would ever befall her, it was another thing entirely to be beside Peter.

She supposed that this was what it felt like to be in love.

Peter's arms opened, and it felt like the most natural response in the world to jump into them, her arms fixing themselves around his neck as he gripped around her waist and spun her.

Belle still feared touch. She hoped one day that this fear wouldn't trouble her. It was a reminder of her past and seemed to be the one that would not go away. But Peter's patience had been exactly what she had needed as she learned to trust him, and her fears did not trouble her when she was with him.

Belle and Peter had only parted the day before, but their reunion seemed as though they had been separated for months. It did not bother them, though. They had known what it was to be separated, and unjustly against their will.

When Peter returned Belle to her feet, still holding onto her waist, he looked over her shoulder and said, "Could I please trouble a servant to fetch Miss Desjardins' cloak, Mr Cole?" he asked politely.

The butler bowed his head once and replied, "Of course, Mr Denham."

Peter's eyes returned to Belle's, and he said, "There's a little break in the drizzle today. Would you like to take some air with me?"

Belle nodded.

Mr Cole returned promptly with Belle's cloak, and Peter helped her to put it on. Belle fastened the buttons before she took Peter's arm as he led her outside.

It was indeed very cold outside, but the air was fresh, as it always was after rain. The drizzle had washed away the dusting of snow that had fallen overnight, and the great lawns before Ashwood House were green and glistening. The clouds hung low, and the air was indeed very grey, but Belle saw great beauty in it. There was always beauty in the land of which one could walk upon it as a free woman.

"How are you this morning?" Peter asked her as the descended the stairs towards Ashwood's gravel driveway.

"I am well," she replied. "I am with you." Belle's cheeks flushed with colour. She hadn't managed to stop herself from uttering something so forward.

But Peter didn't mind. He never seemed to mind. He seemed to enjoy when it was not him blushing. Peter grinned down at her. "I do so love when your cheeks are rosy."

"It is becoming a habit."

Peter chuckled. "One I quite adore."

They stepped off of the driveway and onto the lawn. The dew of the morning immediately soaked through the hem of Belle's dress, but she didn't mind very much at all. She just naturally leaned into Peter's side as they walked, as though they had been walking together all their lives.

"I ran into Mr Andrews this morning," Peter told her, and his change in tone told Belle that this was something that he had been mulling over telling her about.

She focussed her eyes forward. "Oh? What did he say?" Belle had seen Mr Andrews at church on Christmas, but she had not spoken to him. She had actively tried to avoid everyone in the village save for the Denhams.

"He wondered at your return to his shop," replied Peter as his lips pursed into a firm line. "He asked me if I would pass along the message that you have been asked after by everyone."

"I'm sure I have been," murmured Belle. She paused, and Peter immediately stopped walking to round on her. He placed his hands on her upper arms, before he lifted her chin gently with one of his fingers.

"I can see that you do not wish to return," he said softly. "And it is quite alright, and more than understandable."

"It is not because I dislike the work." Belle sighed. "Honestly, nothing would be more fulfilling than to occupy my hands with work that I am good at. I would sew buttons for the rest of my days if I knew that someone would not walk up to my table and ask what it was like ... what any of it was like."

Belle felt a sudden pang of guilt for her sensitivities. She had once observed the innocence and the unworldliness of the people in the Ashwood village, and she had been glad for them because of it. These people could not comprehend the experiences of a woman like Belle, and they were curious and could not help themselves.

Belle just did not want to be a circus attraction.

Peter brushed Belle's cheekbone with the backs of his knuckles and exhaled. "I can see the guilt in your eyes, and I wish it was not so. I know this community does not deserve you. I can only hope to."

Belle bit down on her lower lip as her cheeks filled with colour once more.

"Will you sit down with me?" Peter then asked. "I want to talk to you about something." He gestured to the stone bench that was situated underneath and evergreen tree.

She nodded.

Peter took Belle's arm once again and led her through the wet grass towards the bench. When they reached it, the rain had left the stone glistening, and moss had grown up the sides. Peter dropped her arm for a moment as he unbuttoned his coat, before he threw his coat overtop of it so that she could sit down.

"Don't be silly!" Belle exclaimed. "It is too cold out to be without your coat. I can sit down on a damp bench."

Peter merely placed his hands on his hips and stared at her with a challenging brow before she conceded and sat down on the warm, woollen coat with a sheepish smile. Peter then sat down beside her.

"I've had an idea," Peter then said, taking her hands between his and warming then. There was an excited energy about Peter as he began to speak. "I believe that you are far too talented to settle for sewing buttons, no matter how you say it would please you. You once told me that it was a dream of yours to have your own shop, to be a modiste. That was before you quickly dismissed it as a fantasy that could never be possible."

Belle remembered their conversation vividly. She would be lying if she said that she did not think often of owning her own shop where ladies could come to buy a couture gown made by her.

"I want to make this dream of yours a reality," Peter continued eagerly. "I know that Ashwood, perhaps, is now a little too small for you to live the life that you want comfortably. What about London?" he suggested hopefully. "Would you consider it? Would you consider establishing your own shop right in the heart of Mayfair? It would be right where the ladies would come every summer season. There is a location that I have in mind, and it has a very comfortable flat above it."

Belle was not at all certain of what Peter was proposing. Was this his very idea of that? Was this a marriage proposal? She was not sure that it was, and that made it very difficult to imagine that she could simply open up a shop in Mayfair, wherever that was, as she had no financial means to do so.

As it was, the financial limitations were not her only hindrance anymore. "No one would come," Belle said dejectedly. "They might have done after the reception to Susanna's wedding gown, but my name is all over the papers, and is had been for over a month, and not because of my talent as a dressmaker. I feel like my name is tainted."

While Belle's name was taken from her unfortunate beginnings, it was hers. She felt a great deal of her own identity within her name. Belle Desjardins. Beauty of the Gardens. It was perhaps the very first thing that had ever belonged to her.

"Then you shall have to make a gown to surpass Susanna's," Peter encouraged. "You, my darling, possess the power to change the narrative. You have power, and I cannot wait to watch you wield it."

A smile tugged at Belle's lips as her face fell forward into Peter's chest. He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her securely.

"Will you try?" he pleaded. "I know you will be great. I have such faith in you."

Belle could feel that faith in her bones. It couldn't quell her fears that perhaps her reputation was irreparable, but it did not stem the hope. Of course, she hoped.

"Of course, I want to try," she mumbled against his chest. "I suppose I need a client then, don't I?" And the financial means to go to London. Peter hadn't proposed. She was quite sure of that.

"I had thought that you could be your own first client," Peter replied. "I am certain the wedding gown you would make for yourself would be absolutely exquisite."

But then she heard that comment, and her back immediately straightened as she sat bolt upright. She stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. "My wedding gown," she gasped. "Why ... why would I have a need for one of those?"

Peter frowned, his brow very deep with confusion. He then suddenly, very aggressively, slapped the breast pocket of his jacket, before he jumped up from the bench. "Only I could forget to propose!" he admonished himself, before he took a breath and looked at Belle.

She could not help herself. A wicked smile had spread across her face as she heard his curses. She had not been wrong after all. Her stomach fluttered, and yet she felt more amusement and excitement.

"Hush!" Peter demanded of her, his own cheeks reddening, as he leant down to take her hands so that he could pull her to her feet.

"I never said a word!" exclaimed Belle as Peter began searching his coat for the pocket he desired.

Peter flipped his coat and finally found the breast pocket that he was after. He then reached inside and pulled out of it a small velvet pouch that was fixed closed with a golden drawstring. Peter quickly returned his coat to the bench and positioned Belle back where she was, before he again sat back down beside her, velvet pouch in hand.

He slapped his hand to his forehead and frustratedly said, "I was so excited to tell you about the shop idea that I forgot to ask you to marry me first. Forget I said anything about the shop, and I'll start again. I've made such a mess of this. Of course, I have. It's my talent. You can sew, and I can make a right fool of myself."

"You hush!" Belle commanded, shuffling closer to him, causing the coat to bunch between them. "I love that you were so excited to share this with me." Belle only wished her thoughts had not been so initially self-deprecating. "I love that you want to make plans with me, and to help me establish something of my own. I won't forget any of this. That I can promise you." It was her turn to hold his hand, though only one of his would fit between hers. She leant down and kissed it, before offering him a heartfelt gaze.

Peter's smile returned, before he shook his head. "You must have thought me a little mad to be talking about a shop without explaining that I planned on us establishing it together."

"Wonderful," she promised. "Never mad."

Peter removed his hand from hers, only to pull open the little velvet bag. "I really had no idea of your taste in jewellery, so I did not want to present you with something that you might dislike. But then I had a better idea. At least, I thought you would appreciate this more. My father was a tailor, and he passed away while I was still a boy. I really do not have much that belonged to him, but I have always had this. He gave it to me the birthday before he died, as he had always planned to teach me his trade. I never learned. I'd always thought my future lay elsewhere. But when I thought of giving this to you as an engagement gift, it almost makes me feel as though my father might have known that my future bride would have need of it." He chuckled. "Is that silly? This is small and not at all expensive, but ..."

Peter tipped the little object out of the bag into the palm of his hand. There Belle saw a little silver thimble, ornately decorated with branches of oak leaves. It had been polished, and it shone against the pale skin over his hand.

Belle leaned over and peered at it, and it wasn't until a droplet of water hit Peter's hand that she realised that she was crying. Peter immediately used his other hand to brush away her tears.

"It's not silly at all," Belle all but blubbered. "I love it!" How had she been smiling wickedly only a few moments ago? Lord, she loved him. She loved him with every bit of her heart, and she could not imagine being presented with another more perfect.

Peter smiled. "I love you," he countered. "And I will always. Will you marry me?"

Belle helplessly nodded. "Oui, oui," she stammered as she got up on her knees to hug him, before she kissed him softly. Belle felt Peter's hand on the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, enduring the wetness of her falling tears.

When they parted, Peter captured her left hand and delicately touched the silver thimble to each of her fingers before placing it onto her ring finger. They both laughed together as Peter leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Perfect fit."

***

Belle and Peter decided to keep their engagement a secret for the remainder of the week, choosing to announce it at the family dinner the following Sunday evening. It was a combined celebratory meal for the new year, as well as for Adam and Grace's wedding anniversary, but they thought it was the perfect time to tell everyone altogether.

Owing to the occasion, a special meal had been prepared, and Belle was filled an anxious excitement as the hours ticked away. She and Peter had spent nearly every day that week together, quietly planning and talking for hours.

Belle had learned that Peter had scouted the location for her shop when he had returned to London after the wedding, and that his elder sister had helped him. It was a settling feeling to know that Peter had been thinking of these plans, and their future, for so long.

Mrs Denham, Peter, Jem and Amélie arrived first, and they were closely followed by Jim, Kate, and their young son, James. Jack and Claire and their two daughters were already in residence at Ashwood House as they had been staying for the festive season and were due to return to London in the coming days. Alex and Susanna were the final party to arrive.

When the children were all put to bed upstairs in the nursery, dinner was announced, and the large family party took their places in the dining room. Adam was seated at one head of the table, and Cecily at the other, as she always was. Peter and Belle were seated beside each other, and they exchanged an excited glance. As soon as the wine was poured, Peter planned to stand up and announce. Belle gripped the underside of her chair in anticipation.

The conversation at the table was animated and lively as everyone caught up with one another over the goings on of the last week. Cecily and Mrs Denham were deep in conversation about something, and at the other end of the table, both Adam and Grace appeared to be discussing something seriously.

Jack caught Peter's attention with a comment about the book that they would be publishing in the coming weeks, just as the footmen appeared with the wine. Belle watched as each of the glasses around the table were filled quickly with the deep burgundy liquid.

Peter lifted his glass as he finished his conversation with Jack and collected his spoon to draw attention. But before he could call the table's focus, another had the exact same thought.

It was Grace, and she had stood up from her seat, wine glass in hand. But Grace was not the only one to stand up. Susanna did also, as she left her seat to flit to Grace's side. The two women looped arms around each other.

"If I could please have everyone's attention for a moment," Grace called. "Susanna and I both have some rather exciting news."

Belle's breath hitched in her throat.

"It's been our little secret while both Alex and Adam were away," added Susanna. "But now that they know, and the doctor has assured both of us that we are healthy, we can share our happy news with everyone."

"There are to be two new little ones born this year," Grace announced with a serene happiness about her. "I expect in June, and Susanna in July."

The table erupted in applause and cheers of congratulations. Jack practically climbed on the table to shake Alex's hand as everyone left their chairs to congratulate, hug and kiss the expectant mothers and fathers. Amélie was in tears after Alex called to her the news in French, but no one was more excited than Cecily.

The authoritative grandmamma could be heard above all declaring a half a dozen new remedies that she had heard of to ensure a baby was a boy and was quick to snatch the arms of both Grace and Susanna to sing the virtues of stewed gizzards.

Belle and Peter could only look at one another and laugh.

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Hope you enjoyed it!! I smiled like crazy writing this. So happy to give my Belle and Peter what they deserve. We know I'm evil, and I torture my characters, but I give them what they deserve in the end, don't I?

I have a heart, it's just buried underneath my evilness ;) hehehe

Next chapter will be the epilogue, and then we'll be onto Jem and Cressie's story - An Innocent Affair yayyyyyyy. Do with that title what you will ...

(But seriously, prepare for emotional turmoil and torture because ... c'mon guys it's me we're talking about here!)

I wonder if they'll finally be a boy born into this family? Hmmm. I'll have to check my family tree that I've planned until the year 1833 to see who will be born the next year ;)

I've literally just opened it now and scrolling down through all the things you guys don't know about yet. Yay can't wait to write them :)

Vote and comment!!