"Never give up on something that you can't go a day without thinking about." Winston Churchill

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X.

Peter had put his foot in it. Well, perhaps it was not he himself that had put his foot in it, but the conversation at the table had resulted in Belle retreating right back into her shell.

He was quite put out about it. For a brief moment, he had seen her smiles, her eyes ... those beautiful eyes. Her shoulders were not so rigid, and she had relaxed a little, and Peter wanted to believe that he and his terribly awkward behaviour had contributed to that.

Receiving those looks and smiles felt precious to Peter. In a short acquaintance, he had come to understand that those were rarities, and not bestowed on just anyone. In perhaps a rather naïve way, he believed that she might have cared for him a little.

And it was not until he had witnessed Belle's rapid retreat that Peter realised just how attached he was to her. Immediately, Peter felt the disappointment and frustration at being denied something that he had so quickly come to enjoy and take pleasure in.

Peter really did not know what to do. He did not have much experience at all with women. He did not know the right things to say, or how to behave in a way that wasn't embarrassing. Of course, he never intended to embarrass himself on purpose ... it just seemed to happen that way.

"Do you intend to call on Jane Allsopp today, or shall I?"

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by his brother sitting down at the table. Jem was grinning at him as he collected a slice of bread to butter. When Peter did not respond with a teasing remark of his own, Jem's grin faded, and was replaced by a much more sympathetic expression.

"I wasn't really planning on calling on her, you know," he then said in a hopeful tone. "She is all yours."

Peter shook his head. It was his family's conversation surrounding Jane Allsopp that had caused Belle's change.

"I am just joshing, you know," Jem continued. "I didn't mean to offend. She'll be lucky to have you." After he finished buttering his bread, he made quite a mess as he spooned a large helping of the Haitian marmalade that Amélie had made. Alex had brought some fruit back to England with him and planned to cultivate what he could on his land in a greenhouse that he was constructing.

"I don't really know how that is meant to happen," replied Peter. "I really don't know what I am doing, and ..." Peter didn't finish his sentence. He was going to say that he did not know if Belle cared for him at all. Would she smile at him if she did not? No, that was selfish. Peter understood that he was not owed romantic feelings.

Peter also understood that it was foolish to chalk Belle's emotions down to silly gossip surrounding village girls. Belle's mind, and her heart, were not vapid little streams, but deep oceans.

Jem folded his bread in half and nearly inhaled the whole thing in one mouthful. As he chewed, he gave his brother a sympathetic look. "My instinct is to tease you, but I fear that would be hypocritical as I have an equal amount ... or perhaps ever less ... of experience with women. At least you know the object of your affection cares for you. My girl does not even know that I exist."

"How do you figure that?" asked Peter.

Jem helped himself to another slice of bread. "Well, just as it is obvious that you care about Miss Desjardins, she does not have the talent of concealing her own feelings. I saw the way she was smiling at you, Peter. Again, be thankful she knows you exist."

Peter had foolishly gotten his hopes up for a moment, but he felt the disappointment sink in his stomach once more. He loved her smiles, but that didn't mean she cared romantically. She did not have to.

Oh, he was confused. And his confidence was shot. He didn't know what to do.

"Who is this mystery girl you are so devoted to?" Peter asked, changing the subject. "And why is she oblivious to your existence?"

Jem had just polished off his second marmalade lathered piece of bread and began on a third.

Jem, who was usually in such good humour, reddened in his cheeks briefly. "If you breathe a word to Mother about this, I will kill you in your sleep."

Peter was strangely glad to be thinking about something other than his own awkwardness. "You have my word."

"Her name is Cressie. Cressida Martin. She and her mother arrived in Ashwood only recently ... and my God, Peter." Jem actually banged his head against the table, causing the crockery to rattle.

"That pretty, eh?"

"Beautiful," Jem mumbled against the table. Looking up, he continued, "I am going to speak to her at the Winter Assembly, though. I am determined. Gives me a good two months to muster up the courage."

Cressie Martin. Peter did not know the name, nor the face to put to it, but he supposed he had not lived in Ashwood for some time. Despite that, it was clear that Jem was quite lost to her. He could not recall his younger brother ever being quite so lost to a young woman before. Peter wondered if he appeared to look quite so lovesick, too.

"Is she really so intimidating?" wondered Peter.

Jem looked quite helpless. "I just don't want to make a fool of myself in front of her."

Peter's mind immediately went to all the instances when he had quite literally made a total fool of himself in front of Belle. How was it possible that there was so many incidents in so few meetings? How hopeless was he?

"Perhaps that is where you might offer me advice, brother," continued Jem. "You, after all, were the one to spill wine everywhere and yet Miss Desjardins still had smiles for you."

"She did, didn't she," agreed Peter quietly. His confidence was definitely dashed. His hopes were not up. But Peter needed to adjust his expectations. Things were not going to be simple, quick and easy.

Simple, quick and easy reminded him of the courtship that Jim Ellis had pursued with his elder sister, Kate. It could not have been more than a few weeks, a month at most, between their courtship starting and an engagement being announced. It had been simple between them. And while he did not begrudge his sister at all, Kate and Belle were really worlds apart.

Half a globe, in fact.

Expecting smooth sailing was certainly a fool's errand.

This realisation did offer Peter some comfort and clarity. Something had happened that had spooked Belle. He needed to learn what it was that frightened her so that he could prevent it from happening again. This would become easier once he got to know her better. He only hoped she would allow it.

Because Peter really did want to know her. Once again, with how focussed he was on the anguish of not knowing the meaning of the sort of smiles she gave him, did Peter realise just how attached he already was to Belle. What on earth would he feel like after a few more meetings?

"You really care for her, don't you, Peter?" murmured Jem softly.

Peter looked up. "I can't explain it," he said simply. "Something inside of me was stirred when I saw her, and now I cannot stop thinking about her. The fact that she was quiet when she left the dinner table abruptly, and that I have not seen her since, makes me feel a sort of anxious anguish."

Jem shook his head as he threw back the remainder of his tea. "Women," he huffed. "But we have got to keep trying, don't we?"

"Yes, we do."

***

Peter was not able to stay away or wait for an invitation. No formal invitations were ever really sent out from Ashwood House as it was understood that the family was always welcome to call whenever they wanted.

Peter did manage to leave it a day, so as not to appear overbearing, before he entered Mr Andrews' grocer on Tuesday morning. His breath did catch as he caught sight of Belle sitting at the back of the shop, her attention focussed on the shirt that she was sewing. Mr Andrews' attention was occupied by a customer, so there was no one to interrupt Peter as he immediately started towards Belle.

It struck him how she appeared so small when she sat behind her table. She was not a tall woman by any stretch of the imagination, and she was certainly very slender and delicate. But most women when they were seated sat up straight, with their shoulders widened with a sense of pride in their posture. Belle's shoulders curled inwards, as did every part of her torso, as though she was determined to take up as little space as she could.

Peter deduced that this was a learned habit alongside the tendency to look down.

As he approached, Belle's eyes looked up briefly, before her instinct returned her gaze to the floor. When she realised just who it was who approached, she looked up again in surprise.

Her golden eyes warmed, and her lips upturned in a smile for the briefest of moments before her expression became neutral. Peter was not mistaken. She was happy to see him, or at least she had been.

"Good morning, Miss Desjardins," greeted Peter softly as he bowed his head respectfully.

Belle gently set her sewing down on the table and rose from her chair. "Good morning, Mr Denham," she said in reply, her voice calm.

She had spoken to him. This was a start. He had seen a smile. All was not lost. He did not have ridiculously unreasonable hopes, but he could not deny that a little hope still bubbled underneath the surface. It was not fair to put any undue expectation onto Belle. If Peter cared for her, then he needed to respect her and her limits.

"I wanted to ask after your health," Peter announced. "You left the table quite suddenly and I wanted to ensure that you were well." His tongue was not tied, his words were not unclear, and he had not made a fool of himself yet. There was nothing hazardous in his immediate environment to trip over, either.

Belle appeared to soften momentarily, before her neutral gaze returned, almost as though she was conditioning herself to appear this way. What on earth was going on inside her head?

"I am well, thank you, Mr Denham," Belle replied. "Just a little –" Belle paused as she frowned in thought. Her hand gestured to her stomach. "J'avais un peu mal au ventre," she explained, though she appeared quite frustrated with herself.

Peter did not understand what she had said, but he could deduce there was some ill in her stomach as that was where she was pointing.

"In English, I don't know," she said apologetically. "I don't know all the words, I'm sorry."

"You certainly need not apologise," Peter assured her. "You can speak two languages. Your tongue is far superior to mine." As soon as the words had escaped his mouth, Peter began to overthink them. Lord, he hoped that was not inappropriate or a strange thing to say. Of course, he had managed to give her a compliment in an awkward way. "You are well, though?" he said, quickly moving the subject along.

And as soon as he did, Belle's facial expression returned to the neutral that she was making an effort to maintain. It almost was a look of cool indifference. Belle was forcing herself to appear this way, it was clear.

What was also clear to Peter, however, was that Belle was not very good at keeping in character. She had already broken it several times. But that did not answer the question of why she was determined to appear indifferent to him.

"Yes, I am well," she replied coolly.

Peter longed to know what was going through Belle's mind. She held his gaze, even if her shoulders were rolled forward in a submissive way, but her eyes did not warm. They were hard in a way that indicated to Peter that she was concentrating on something. Whatever she was thinking, she was thinking it hard.

What was clear though was that Belle's natural instinct was not indifference. Her natural instinct has been displayed for a brief moment when he had approached her table. Her eyes had warmed, and she had smiled. She was not indifferent, even if she was determined to be.

Peter thought back to the conversation he had had with Jem over breakfast the morning before. He had to keep trying. This attachment was certainly not going anywhere.

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Hope you enjoyed it, and that it was worth the wait! 

What an eventful few days!! I always think of my author's notes as though I'm picking up a conversation that we are still having, and have been having for several years now! Let me tell you about my week - and don't hesitate to tell me about yours - I read all the comments!! 

So, first things first, remote learning is DONEEEEEEE. Back in the classroom full-time. Hell. Yes. My mental health is just on the up. I could not do any more Webex. It's a public holiday tomorrow so we're back full-time as of Wednesday and I. Can't. Wait. 

Then I was talking to my kids about Halloween and they're all telling me about their costumes over Webex as Friday was our last day. And I tell them that I'm going to go dressed in my normal clothes and be a "scary, cranky teacher" and all I hear is parents laughing in the background lol. 

We didn't get any trick or treaters sadly so this lactose intolerant idiot has just been grabbing a freaking milky way every time I walk past the front door. Not surprising though as Halloween is not a big thing here.

Then I went shopping! Shops are opened. I spent unnecessary money. It was fabulous.

Then while we were shopping, we got a call that my brother was on the way to the hospital with a badly broken collarbone after he'd taken a diving catch while playing cricket. It was honestly sooo bad. He was able to come home that night, but he went in for surgery today and will come home tomorrow. I felt so bad for him. He's on the mend now thankfully.

And honestly, this is where I am so thankful for Australia's healthcare system. Everything 100% free. Emergency room, surgery, surgeon, anaesthetist, nurses, hospital stay. The only cost was $7 for his pain killers at the pharmacy. 

So that's why this was delayed. Been a big few days! 

I hope you are all well, and you will be getting this chapter on a Monday or Tuesday depending on where you are in the world so I hope you start your week well - if it's a Bones Day, go get 'em! If it's a No Bones Day, look after yourself x

Vote and comment xxx