But then something in one of the pens moved.
Arabella gasped, but instead of stepping away, she moved forward. Her eyes must have been lying to her—it was not possible that…
But it was. Arabella reached out her hands and carefully held onto the wooden fences that made up the pen and looked down at a beautiful, sleeping but gently stirring swan.
“The missing swan,” she breathed.
She felt, rather than saw, Nathaniel’s presence behind her.
“The missing swan,” he repeated with a wry laugh. “Safe and sound, though a little damaged by the wintery weather.”
Arabella could not believe it. Was this what Nathaniel had been doing all those times she had been looking for him? Hiding away in a barn, caring for a swan?
It did not make any sense. Why keep one here, why separate it out from its family? Even though she had been here but a few days, the Oxcaster Lacey lake did not look complete without its seven swans a swimming. It was why she had noticed it earlier.
“But…but why,” Arabella breathed, looking at the majestic creature. Its features looked so soft, she was desperate to touch them—but not foolish enough to reach out a hand. “Why would you keep a swan in here?”
“I’ve not tamed it, nor captured it, if that is what you are thinking,” said Nathaniel quietly.
Arabella saw the hurt on his face. She had injured him, though accidentally, that did not appear to matter. She had still pained him.
Only in that moment did Arabella realize, truly, what it meant to care for another. She had power over him, yes, but not merely the sensual power that she had felt rising up in her since the moment Nathaniel had kissed her.
No, it was more than that. Deeper. More mysterious.
Her words could injure him, even if she meant no harm, and that meant she had to be incredibly careful. Nathaniel’s heart, she could see, was already partially in her keeping.
A sacred honor. She would have to be careful not to break it.
“I did not mean that,” Arabella said gently. “I…I wondered what had happened for this situation to occur. For you to help.”
Her words appeared to have mollified him, for Nathaniel flushed slightly with a smile.
“I am trying to help,” he said with a dry laugh, “though I cannot help but feel I am drastically underqualified to do such a thing. Its wing, you see. It’s damaged, I thought, if it was in here, safe, warm, not having to fly…”
Nathaniel’s voice trailed away, embarrassment seeming to overpower him.
Arabella marveled at the change in him. It was difficult to believe this was the same man who had so proudly and so rudely informed her that he was not interested in the agreement their parents had made.
There was such complexity to this man, such depth. Arabella was not certain a lifetime would be sufficient to plumb them.
“All the birds here need a little help,” Nathaniel was saying. “And I make sure that I come down here every few hours during the day to ensure they have enough food, water, that sort of thing.”
Arabella nodded, but then his words caught up with her. “All of them?”
Nathaniel grinned. “You did not notice, did you?”
Arabella smiled, unable to help herself. “I did not. There are others?”
There were many others. Arabella could hardly believe she had missed them, but her eyes had been so taken with the flash of white weathers that she had walked straight past them.
She lingered along the pens now, Nathaniel by her side as he told her all about the different birds—and a few creatures—which had joined the others in this barn of wonders.
“And there—that’s a barn owl, and you would think this was their natural habitat, but her wing never grew properly, I’ve had her for a few years now…hibernating wasn’t an option, he couldn’t get fat enough, so I keep him here…migrating I think, but lost their way, and they stayed together as a pair, so I wanted to care for them…”
The more they moved throughout the barn, the more animated Nathaniel became, creeping out of that cold and aloof shell he had retreated into the moment she had met him.
And Arabella understood—at least, she started to think she understood.