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Belle really shouldn’t be here. It was reckless to sneak into Jack’s room. Even though the wedding was only two weeks away and everyone in the house knew that Jack regularly snuck in through Belle’s bedroom window, somehow sneaking into Jack’s room was more taboo. More forbidden.
Soon it would not be. Soon, his bed would be her bed. Everything she owned would be his and vice versa, at least in theory. But for now, she slipped off her boots at the door and set them down lightly beneath the bed before shucking off her overskirt and crinoline so she could comfortably lie beside him.
They were both exhausted after an accident at the docks had left too many sailors in desperate need of surgery and care. Many nurses were still busy downstairs. But upstairs, in Jack’s little attic room, the world was soft and quiet.
Gently she rolled up his right shirt sleeve, still stained with blood, to reveal his compass. He never wore a cuff during surgery. It wasn’t fashionable to leave one’s compass uncovered, but neither Jack nor Belle were willing to risk infection for their patients simply to conform to the fashion. Her own compass hovered over his for a moment and spun wildly until they drew just far enough apart for the needles to settle, pointing straight at one another.
Belle had spent hours watching her compass as a child, watching it waver to and fro, quickly at first and then slower. She now knew it was due to proximity. When they were both in London, the compass moved more quickly as their relative positions changed quickly, orbiting each other around the city, so close and yet never touching. Then Jack went to sea and his pace was controlled by the ship he sailed upon. Then Belle herself crossed the world and Jack’s compass which had always pointed him home drew him to the very continent he had once dreaded with every fiber of his body.
And still he came.
She knew that his compass was not the only reason that Jack had come to Australia, but it was certainly a reason he stayed so long. Certainly the reason they lay here now together, exhausted but happy in the knowledge of their closeness and a job well done.
“Try to sleep,” Jack mumbled, looping one arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
Her corset was beginning to dig into her side, but Belle couldn't be bothered to move, not when she was so comfortable in her soulmate’s arms. Instead, she pressed a chaste kiss to the skin closest to her lips—his collarbone—and closed her eyes, allowing herself to revel in the closeness and the knowledge that someday soon they would not have to sneak around like this. Soon they would be married and this closeness would be her right as Jack’s wife.
She smiled to herself and drifted into sleep as the compass on her wrist pointed directly at Jack’s heart.