IX

"Healing is never complete until we have been truly heard. May the universe send you someone who will sincerely care to listen." Anthon St. Maarten

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IX.

Belle found it difficult to stop thinking of Peter's words for the remainder of the evening. How often was one told that they had been touched by an angel?

She, for one, certainly never had. For one who had spent so long feeling as though something was dreadfully wrong with her, feeling as though she had been cursed or damned, to have someone so kind, so innocent, say such beautiful words to her meant everything and more. In fact, Belle was quite certain that no one had ever spoken more beautiful words to her. It was quite easy, really, to be certain of that. No one before Peter had ever spoken to her in such a way.

They were seated next to one another at dinner again that evening, and unlike last Sunday, Belle did not keep her eyes to her plate. She found herself continually looking to her side at Peter. And when she did, she found his eyes, too.

And then he would smile at her.

Belle did not think that she had ever seen such a nice smile on a man before. She liked Peter's smile because there was no malice, no motive, and no wickedness. It was kindness, comfort, reassurance. His smile settled her and calmed her ...

... and it reminded her every time that Peter thought that she had been touched by an angel.

Lord, every time those words passed through her mind, she felt her stomach twist up in the sorts of knots that she had never experienced before. It wasn't hunger. She was used to hunger pains. It was a different feeling altogether. And it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it excited her in a rather unexpected way.

And that, in itself, was frightening.

"I like that you are looking up. I like that you are looking at me." Peter spoke in a low voice so that only Belle could hear.

And when she did hear, she smiled. But she did look down bashfully.

"No, no, no," Peter pleaded in a whisper. "Don't you dare look down."

Taking a quick breath, Belle obeyed, and she returned her gaze to his.

"Angel," he murmured, his smile tugging at his lips.

Belle's stomach twisted even further as this wholly unfamiliar feeling spread up into her chest.

Though Peter did not remain smooth and subtle for long. While still looking at Belle, he reached out for his wine glass, albeit a little casually, for he knocked it over onto the white linen of the table runner which began to quickly absorb the red liquid. In Peter's surprise, and subsequent reflexive reaction, he knocked over Belle's water glass as he reached for his own. The water tipped into the bowl of soup that Belle had been midway through consuming. The sounds of crystal and china clinking and clattering interrupted the table's conversations, and Belle watched as Peter's cheeks turned pink and an expression of embarrassment returned to his face.

"My sincerest apologies," Peter stammered as he finally righted the glasses without tipping anything else over. He used the napkin that had been on his lap to dab away at the stained runner. "I have made an absolute mess of this," he muttered, chastising himself.

"It was my mother-in-law's dining linen, Peter. No matter," said Cecily dismissively. She then charged her glass. "It gives me quite the good excuse to finally be rid of it."

"I could never be so wasteful," Grace replied. "Honestly, a little vinegar and a good scrub with some soap and water and that stain will be gone."

Belle could have sworn that she heard the dowager duchess mutter something that sounded like, "spoilsport," under her breath, though Belle had no idea what that word meant.

Peter sat back down, very red-faced, and Belle was reminded again that she enjoyed when he was embarrassed, even if she did not always understand why. Of course, she did understand in this instance. She did feel badly that she liked his embarrassment, because he was clearly uncomfortable, but it further cemented her good opinion of him.

"Honestly, Peter, why so clumsy? Distracted by something, were you?" Peter's brother, Jem, was teasing his brother.

Jem seemed to get a lot of enjoyment out of his brother's situation, and Belle then felt quite poorly for feeling something similar. Jem then flicked his blue eyes to Belle, and he grinned devilishly at her. He then winked.

Peter glared at his brother. "Jem," he practically growled.

"Almost like your mind was somewhere else entirely," Jem continued mockingly, his voice rising so as to draw attention.

"What on earth are you going on about, Jemmy?" Claire asked in a tiresome expression. Claire was seated beside Jem on the opposite side of the table and had been distracted from her conversation by Jem's rise in tone.

"Jem was just about to tell us all about the mystery girl who has taken his fancy!" Peter announced to the table.

His announcement caused all colour to drain from Jem's face as he was put right back in his place. Jem sat back in his chair and nodded in defeat, though it was not at all enough to end the conversation.

"Mystery girl?"

"Who?"

"What girl?"

All three questions were asked by Peter and Jem's older sisters, the interest of them all having been captured by Peter's statement. Belle watched in utter fascination.

"Mystery girl? Jem?" prompted Mrs Denham. "What girl? Aren't you too young for a girl?"

"Mother, I am seventeen, not five," grumbled Jem.

"Pray, forgive me," retorted Mrs Denham facetiously. "What girl?" she pressed. "Do I know her? Of course, I must know her. For whom do you know that I do not?" Mrs Denham tapped her fingers on the table as she thought. "Annie Wilkins?" she asked. "She is a pretty, young thing. What about Jane Allsopp? Is it her? Though, I did have a mind to reacquaint her with Peter during this visit because I think they would do so well together."

"Jane Allsopp?" Cecily replied, raising her brow. "Why, I do agree. Very pretty, very amiable. No fortune, of course, but her father is a gentleman. She would do very nicely for you, Peter."

Belle found herself getting a little lost along the way as the conversation darted across the dining room table. But what she had managed to comprehend was that both Peter's mother and the dowager duchess had a bride in mind for him.

The knots in her stomach, which had been pleasurable in their anticipatory nature, suddenly twisted in an unholy way, and Belle felt the pain suddenly rise up into her throat. This news should not bother her. It was not at all right that it bothered her.

Really, this was the way of the world. It was right. Was she mad? What was Belle even thinking entertaining such unfamiliar giddiness? It was not for her. It could never be for her. There were some things that she would never be able to have, and Peter Denham was certainly one of them.

She looked at Peter again, only this time he was not looking at her. He appeared to be quite angrily glaring at his mother. What Peter didn't know, or understand, was that he deserved someone like Jane Allsopp, whomever she was. Belle predicted that she was a beautiful, innocent, delicate flower of a girl, who would no doubt make Peter a dutiful wife, and be a doting mother to their children.

There was one thing for certain that Belle could never do. She could never have children. She wasn't capable.

Thump.

Belle froze. It was as though she had felt a physical punch to the chest as the thought had crossed her mind. She had not pondered her own barren state in a long time, and even when she had, it had never pained her. In fact, she had always thought of her inability to bear children to be a blessing. For why would she ever want to bring a child into the life that she had once led?

But in this moment, it was the first time that she had ever thought about since being free.

And she felt pain. Great pain. She looked to Peter, and she felt pain within her. Stop it, stop it! Belle commanded of herself. She could not fool herself into believing that she was someone that she was not after receiving some kind words and the attention of a good, safe man. Belle knew exactly who she was.

Peter did not.

Peter did not deserve to be burdened by Belle. He deserved perfect, innocent Jane Allsopp, or someone like her.

"I thank you kindly to cease the matchmaking," Peter snapped at his mother. "We were talking of Jem, who, indeed, has a very real lady on his mind."

Peter's reminder had refocussed Mrs Denham, and she looked back to her youngest son. "Jemmy, tell me who she is," she encouraged. "Are you courting? How could you not tell me that you are courting!"

"Jane Allsopp," Jem replied with a wry smile, "though I will take back my claim on her as Peter is so clearly meant for her." Jem was very clearly lying, but Belle could not force herself to be curious in that moment.

The conversation surrounding Jem continued, with many around the table trying to encourage him to reveal the identity of the girl who had captured his attention. But Belle could not concentrate. All she could force herself to do was to eat as much of each course as she could manage, her eyes, one again, keeping to her plate.

"It is all in good fun," Peter finally uttered to Belle when the attention drifted to another conversation. "They mean well. Where Jane Allsopp is concerned, well ... I do not think I have spoken to her since ... perhaps the Winter Assembly last year?" he thought back. "Regardless, there is not any sort of understanding ... just in case you were wondering."

Belle didn't answer.

Peter spoke again after waiting through Belle's silence. "Though, of course, you were not wondering. Why would you be?"

"No, I wasn't," Belle murmured softly.

"Right," replied Peter, rather awkwardly. "Exactly right. Exactly what I thought." There was disappointment in his voice. She heard him take a breath, before he asked, "Won't you look at me? You were before, please."

Belle kept her gaze down. What did she hope to achieve? What could she delude herself into thinking could happen? Belle knew exactly what could happen. Nothing.

Lord, she could imagine the spectacle in this village if Peter were to ever stand up with a black woman, such as her. But that was not the problem. Belle wished that was the problem.

Peter knew nothing about Belle. No one did. Not one person in this room knew anything about her save for her name, and she had done that on purpose. She had wanted to keep her past, and everything that had happened to her, locked away in a place that nobody could find. Only there was one particular nightmare that would never end. But it was her nightmare, and she had survived this long. She would keep surviving, because this was her burden. Not Peter's.

"I am not feeling well," Belle suddenly said, rising from the table. "Please, excuse me." Without waiting to answer any of the questions that suddenly arose from the diners, Belle fled from the dining room.

***

Belle had locked herself in her bedroom for the remainder of the evening, and had thrown herself into her sewing, allowing Susanna's wedding dress to consume her thoughts.

Thankfully, she was not disturbed, save for Susanna who came to check on her before retiring. Belle was able to send her away with an assurance that she would be well once she slept.

But Belle lay awake, staring up at the canopy ceiling of her bed. She felt such pain in her stomach, an ache that would not dissipate. Was this affection? It felt horrible.

Belle felt horrible for the disappointment she had heard in Peter's voice.

She felt horrible for enjoying his embarrassment.

She felt horrible for inviting any of his attention with her looks and smiles.

She felt horrible for herself, in knowing that she could never have any of it. And this all twisted up inside her, making her insides ache, making her belly ache like it had never done before. What on earth was this?

It was pain. Real pain. Not phantom pain. Something inside of her really was painful.

"Oh!"

Belle cried, and she sat bolt right up in bed as she felt something ... something odd between her legs. What on earth ...? In a panic, Belle scrambled to light the lamp that had been dimmed beside her bed, and she threw back the bedclothes. Holding the lamp to the sheet, she shuffled back to see whatever it was.

Blood.

Belle screamed. She was bleeding. That pain was real. She was bleeding. Oh Lord, she was dying. Why now? Why now would God grant her wish? Why now when she was free? Why not then? Why not kill her the thousand other times that she had asked? Why now?

Belle scrambled out of bed in a panic, realising that her nightdress was similarly stained with blood as her sheets were. Her heart thundered in her chest as she forced herself to think coherently. She needed to get help. She may have wished for death before, but she did not want to die now. Belle ran to the door. She was bleeding, but she could still run, and she practically pulled it off of its hinges.

Nobody came to her aid when she screamed as she was the lone guest in her wing. She sprinted down what felt like a mile of hallway before she came to the family's quarters. When Belle came to Susanna's bedroom door, she burst inside, not bothering to knock.

The noise of Belle's entrance shocked Susanna awake, and she sat up in bed with a cry of fright.

"Susanna, help me!" Belle begged.

Susanna quickly realised that it was Belle who had entered, and she scrambled out of bed. She raced over to her and put her arm around Belle in support. Not even this touch, which would have ordinarily made Belle jump, could affect her when she was in such a panic.

"Belle, what is it? What's wrong?" Susanna asked desperately.

"Please, a doctor. I need a doctor, one who will treat me," Belle pleaded. "I'm bleeding, look! I'm dying!" Belle held the lamp down and showed Susanna the blood stains on her nightdress.

To Belle's horror, the fright completely disappeared off of Susanna's face, and a smile of reassurance appeared. "Oh, Belle," she said calmly. "What on earth are you worrying about? You are not dying. It is just your courses."

Belle's stomach clenched. "My courses? What is that? I don't understand that word. Help me!" she stressed.

"Shh," hushed Susanna. "Be calm. Wait a moment and I will fetch something to help you." Susanna left Belle's side and went to the bottom drawer in her bedside table. She pulled out some clean rags and then proceeded to explain to Belle what she needed to do with them, sending her behind the dressing screen with a clean night dress to change into as well.

As Belle dressed, she did not feel any less panicked.

"How do you not know what your courses are?" Susanna asked when Belle reappeared. "Your monthly courses. You bleed every month. Every woman does."

Belle vociferously shook her head. "No, no, I do not bleed," she said firmly. "Not like this. I do not understand courses."

Susanna thought for a moment. "Avoir ses règles," she explained.

Belle froze. No. It couldn't be. "Les règles?" she whispered, before looking down at her belly. Instinctively she clutched it. She still felt a great deal of pain.

"You have never bled before?" Susanna asked again, clearly confused.

Belle was just as perplexed. "I did, a long time ago, when I was a young girl. For a little while. But they stopped, and they never came back. I thought ... I thought that they were gone."

Susanna smiled. "I think we all wish they would go away at some time or another, but I remember Mama telling me when mine first appeared that to bleed was a celebration of one's fertility. You'll be alright, Belle. It is normal. I don't really understand why your courses stopped, but at least you know you are not dying, you silly thing!" She chuckled. "You really ought to get some sleep," she encouraged.

Fertility. Belle knew that word. And it seemed impossible.

----

Hope you enjoyed it! So much going on in Belle's little head and heart. I hope she'll find the courage to unburden herself soon ...

To explain what happened, in case you don't know, a woman's periods can stop for multitudes of reasons. In Belle's case it was malnutrition and low body weight. Our bodies stop menstruation to cope with this, as you lose a lot of iron during a period and for someone who is suffering from malnutrition, they could not afford to lose this blood through a period. When the body does recover though, and you put on enough weight and your nutrition stabilises, your periods can/may resume. So, this is what's happened to Belle. She's not dying. Her body is finally regaining some health after everything she has been through.

I hope you all have had a good week. I was back at school with my kids finally! And we are OUT OF LOCKDOWN WOOOOOOO!!!!

And basically to celebrate all I've been doing is binge watching Avatar The Last Airbender for like the 300th time. That is my comfort show. It makes me feel so happy lol.

And after watching the finale today, all I wanna do is go back to the beginning and watch Aang come out of the iceberg all over again hahaha.

And this has been a great distraction for me as all that's been on my mind at the moment is "should I text him?" --- so if you all could do me a favour and comment on this line with a big fat "NOOOOO!!!!!" I would be grateful! Girls gotta stick together!

Vote and comment xxx