AN: Hello, lovelies! So here's my new story. I can't update as often as I have in the past, but there also won't be super long droughts like there have been sometimes and the chapters will hopefully be really long. So each chapter is going to have a quote about the chapter at the top and because Edward is a scientist and because I recently read Bill Bryson's A short history of nearly everything at the end of each chapter will be a scientific quote from his book.

Disclaimer: All credit for twilight characters goes to Stephanie Meyers. The quote for this chapter at the top was found at . And the Bill Bryson quote obviously belongs to him and his book.

Chapter 1

"Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"

-Christopher Marlowe

Dearest Edward,

I am afraid I have not been feeling myself lately. I hate to impose, but my dear friends and even my staff have encouraged me to write to you, in hopes you might pay me a visit. I am sure it is nothing too serious, and I know your work is very important and demanding. Still, the house needs someone to run it, and I will not be able to do so very well until I am well again. If I am asking too much, please, feel free to decline. I do hope to see you though, darling. You are my favorite nephew, and I can say with some assurance that if I had another I should still find your company and conversation rather more stimulating and intriguing.

With much love,

Aunt Esme Platt

Edward set down the letter and rang a servant.

"Yes, Master?" she asked.

"Fetch the carriage. I leave for Forkshire immediately," he answered.

"Good morning, Mr. Swan, Ms. Swan," Mrs. Cope said as she joined us on the side of the road in front of the fabric shop.

"How are you today, Mrs. Cope?" Bella asked very politely. Charlie just nodded and watched; he was never one to chat.

"Well, my arthritis is killing my wrists again, dear," she sighed.

"Have you been by the pharmacy?" Bella said genuine concern in her voice.

"Would you excuse me?" Charlie asked. He knew how Mrs. Cope liked to gab, and he still had errands to run. Both ladies nodded, but remained focused on each other. He dashed across the street to the black smith.

"Just this morning I went, but Mr. Crowley said there is nothing he can do for it other than give me what he's been giving me the whole time," she said, shaking her head. "Perhaps I'll visit Dr. Cullen again," she pondered.

"Mr. Crowley's an excellent pharmacist I'm sure he knows what he's doing, and you've been to see Dr. Cullen twice this month," Bella offered trying to sooth Mrs. Cope, a woman, who is not easily soothed. Her words steered the conversation in the wrong direction, however, because then Mrs. Cope brought up Bella's least favorite topic, young men.

"Mr. Crowley is a very smart man, handsome, too, don't you think?" Mrs. Cope hedged.

"Very intelligent and most women in this town find him to be quite handsome," she said.

"Yes, yes, but how do you find him, Ms. Swan?" Mrs. Cope pressed.

"He's… perfectly tolerable," she shrugged feigning nonchalance while she really felt quite uncomfortable.

"I'd say he finds you much more than tolerable. Why, it's a wonder no man's snapped you up, pretty little dear, you are," Mrs. Cope laughed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cope, but really, I'm in no rush to be married off," Bella said.

"Oh, no? Well, you're the only one, darling. All the girls are rushing to find themselves good husbands, although I suppose, you being the prettiest girl in town, you can afford to be choosy," Mrs. Cope allowed.

"I'm certainly not the prettiest girl in town, and I'm not being choosy," Bella answered through an embarrassed blush. "What about Ms. Hale? The suitors trip all over themselves to bring her flowers and dine at her house," she added.

"Oh maybe she's pretty, but as soon as those boys get in the house they see just how silly they were. Ms. Hale's awfully proud, because she knows just how pretty she is. You're a beautiful girl and too humble to say a thing about it. Not to mention, you'd be such a good wife, so hardworking and sensible. Ms. Hale's got no sense at all. That's how those London girls are, which reminds me! I wanted to tell you dear, that there's a man from London coming to town. You know Mrs. Platt?" she asked her voice just a whisper now.

"Yes of course, she's gotten ill lately, perhaps I ought to pay her a visit…" Bella said more to herself than Mrs. Cope.

"Maybe you should, but you mustn't fret about dear Mrs. Platt. Her nephew from London's arriving today, at any moment, in fact. He's some very important gentleman with an awfully big fortune. He's a bit old for you, but only eight-and-twenty, I hear. I also heard he's not married or even involved with any ladies. I dare say, if he sees you, Ms. Swan, he'll never go back to London."

"Mrs. Cope, you wicked woman! Why, I dare say, he'll be very preoccupied with his aunt. It's no small task taking care of a big old house like that. And if he's some important gentleman then I expect he'll be leaving an awful lot of work undone at home, too. Not to mention, taking care of his sick aunt will leave him rather tired. I very much doubt he'll be looking for a wife. And here of all places when you and I both know that London women are much more… couth, refined, elegant. To think that he would marry me, don't be silly!" she scoffed. There was a small tinge in her heart at admitting he would reject any advance she might make. Well, she wasn't going to make any futile attempts to steal his heart, so he would have nothing to embarrass her with.

"Who is not going to marry you?" Charlie asked, as he caught the last bit of her rant. She jumped and turned to look at him.

"Uh… no one," she stuttered.

"There's a man coming in from London, Mrs. Platt's nephew," Mrs. Cope informed him.

"Well… I suppose, his loss is my gain. I would be sad to see her run off to London, and never visit her family," he said gruffly. He didn't really like thinking about any man stealing away his precious daughter. She was really all he had.

At just that moment a carriage came barreling down the narrow road. People pressed themselves up to the store fronts to let the unusually large carriage pass by. The curtains were pulled away.

Edward peered out the window to glance around the town he would be living in for the foreseeable future (he wouldn't leave until his aunt was in perfect health). He caught many eyes staring back at him, which made him shrink back a bit. Only a second later though, and he was leaning out the window. His eyes had caught sight of a beautiful pair of wide brown eyes, framed by thick dark eyelashes. The face surrounding them seemed innocently beautiful with her pale skin, full pink lips and look of soft awe. He had barely processed the lovely face before him, and then it was shrinking away; the carriage bumping down the road, away from her.

He continued to half lean out, to stare back at the girl, who had caught his attention so thoroughly. Bella blushed, and looked down, only peaking through her eyelashes at his disappearing form. She looked at Mrs. Cope when he was completely gone, who smirked smugly. Charlie wasn't sure what to make of any of it. He had just been looking around at the town… yet. Bella huffed out a sigh, and shook her head to clear it of silly thoughts. So a messy-haired, green-eyed Apollo had leaned out the window as he happened to pass her. Surely, he was not looking at her.

"We still have things to do," she said. "What will we eat for dinner, if we don't get to the butcher before he closes up for the day?" Bella said, not mentioning her thoughts of what the Mrs. Platt's nephew might eat. Mrs. Platt had no cook (citing as a reason that it was unnecessary; there was no one to cook for, but her, and she could take care of herself). What would a good neighbor do? Bella thought. Bring dinner, of course. That's innocent enough.

Edward's only thought was at the time was Good Lord!

Edward had gotten home, and thought of nothing, but the beautiful girl from the street. He was excited, anxious, worried and shaky, all at once. Surely, in a town as small as this, he would see her beautiful, innocent face frequently. That was only logical. But could she possibly be as interested in seeing him again, as he was in seeing her? She had stared at him, as long as he had gazed at her. But then… he was new. And new was always intriguing to small town dwellers. Not to mention his very appearance was… unconventional. Untamable bronze hair, pale skin and very bright green eyes, not to mention his clothing choices. Let's just say his cousin Alice didn't approve of his rather plain, sometimes even ratty wardrobe.

He was so distracted by this that he never heard the very same girl knocking at his door. The one maid that worked for Mrs. Platt and now her nephew, opened it to find her with her little picnic basket. Bella was a little disappointed not to find Mr. Masen on the other side of the door, but she kept a bright smile on her face as she explained to the maid why she was here. The maid, who was feeling over worked as it was taking care of her mistress and preparing for Mr. Masen's arrival, hadn't much considered dinner for this evening. She was exceedingly accepting of Ms. Swan's proposal to provide some food for the family and even the maid herself

Edward had tried to rest after his long journey. He couldn't sleep with her brown eyes and heart shaped face engraved on mind. And even though he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with or without silence, he still found himself irritated by the voices coming from the hall. He assumed it was the maid speaking to some friend of hers (presumably another maid), so he rose and went to ask her to speak outside or perhaps quieter.

His surprise at seeing the girl from the street is impossible to convey, so I shall merely say that it was great.

Bella, who had been waiting all through her conversation with the maid to speak with Mr. Masen himself, now found herself… speechless. He was every bit as incredible as she had thought when she caught her first glimpse of him in the streets only hours ago. Edward recovered before her, but only barely.

"Uh… hello," was his brilliant greeting. He mentally berated himself, as she offered him a weak smile.

"Good evening, I heard Mrs. Platt was ill, and had a relative coming to care for her and her estate. I also happened to know she keeps no cook, and I was afraid that there might be no supper for this evening, which would be a rather poor start to what I hope will be a most pleasant visit. I thought I might remedy the problem by bringing some food. There ought to be enough for you, Mrs. Platt and Ms. Louisa," she explained.

"Ms. Louisa?" he asked.

"Yes, Ms. Louisa," she said, gesturing to the maid, who still stood beside them. Edward blushed at his lack of knowledge and frankly at how the whole interaction was proceeding. This young lady had been so kind as to think of his well being, when she knew him not at all, and his aunt probably only slightly more, and he could only blunder about, not knowing the name of his own temporary house keeper.

"Of course, Ms. Louisa," he laughed awkwardly. He cleared his throat. "Thank you…"

"Miss Isabella Swan, and there's nothing to thank me for. I only wish to be as welcoming as possible, Mr.…" she smiled. Miss, not married! Edward celebrated internally.

"Edward Masen," he replied.

"It's a pleasure," she answered conventionally.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said, and he meant it.

He might have thought upon seeing her in the street that no aspect of her could be lovelier than her appearance, and then he tasted her food. Surely this, he thought after the first bite, is her greatest virtue. And then they began to converse. And she was smart. He had never felt lighter (despite the added weight of all the food he consumed, which was a great deal) than the evening he spent with her. But once she exited the house, doubt began to creep into his mind. Beautiful girls never liked him. The ones that could cook on top of their fine figures and lovely faces were sure to be snapped up quickly. But witty, polite, thoughtful, chef-esque, drop dead gorgeous girls, well, he knew for a fact that they were rare. He was sure every single man in the world must be searching high and low for just such a woman. And one had stumbled into his lap. That was very fortunate, but it begged the question, what chance did a man (he often wondered if the term should be applied to him) like him have of keeping her.

Very little seemed to be the only answer.

Either way, he was going to try his damnedest.

"I have had a most pleasant evening, Mr. Masen, however, the light is going fast and I must walk myself home," Bella sighed regretfully as she gathered her skirts to stand. Their stimulating conversation had been so enjoyable to both to the pair that they had no choice, but to lengthen the evening by playing cards in the parlor after supper.

"Oh, but Ms. Swan I couldn't let you walk home this late at night. The sun will have set before you are half way there," Edward objected.

"'Tis not a long walk. My home is but around the bend," Bella explained as she moved toward the door. Edward followed her anxiously into the front room.

"Really, it would be no trouble at all to lend you my carriage. I shudder to think of you walking home alone at this time, when any trouble might find you unawares," he argued.

"There is no need to fret. Trouble here is far more uncommon than in London, I suspect. You must not trouble yourself," she smiled gently and allowed Louisa to open the door for her and wrap her in her cloak. She stepped half out the door when Edward caught her elbow. He did not hold her very tightly, and it was only over the cotton of her dress, but none the less it was impolite and unexpected. Bella turned back and looked at his hand with widened eyes.

"My apologies," he said, drawing back his hand quickly and clasping it with his other hand, as if to keep it in check. "Please, Ms. Swan, put my mind at ease and take the carriage home. I shall not miss it in the least and I would be ever so pleased to know you were safe in your brief trip," he pleaded. His eyes implored her more effectively than any words as he looked at her so intensely. She could see his worry was genuine, and his offer was not one of courtesy.

"How persuasive you are, Mr. Masen," she sighed, but it was with a gentle smile. "If you insist," she allowed.

"I do, most ardently," he answered with relief. "Ms. Louisa, would you kindly ask Mr. Roberts for the carriage to be readied for Ms. Swan?"

"Of course, sir," she curtsied and exited. Bella smiled at Edward with hope in her heart. He seemed awfully concerned about her. Is there a chance…? Don't be silly, she berated herself mentally. A gentleman like him wouldn't fancy a girl like her in a thousand years, or so she thought.

What a night! What a night! Edward thought in exaltation as he led Bella to the carriage he had so pushed her to take. Bella turned to him and offered a slightly sad smile and a dainty curtsey. Edward had never been very adept at reading other's emotions, but he saw the sadness in Bella quickly. He answered her curtsey with a quick bow and extended his hand to help her into carriage. His hand tingled with the excitement of touching her soft skin. When she was settled, he released her hand and stepped away from the carriage. She grew farther and farther from him with every creak of the wheels, but he could still feel the tingles from his palm to his finger tips. He didn't know why she had looked so sad for a moment. It puzzled him, like most things regarding women. It was one of the best nights of his life; had she not felt the same?

She sighed and looked down at her hand as it continued to feel his warmth long after it was gone. Why did he have to be so wonderful? Or, a better question, perhaps, was why could she not be more suited to him? She settled into the seat that smelled suspiciously wonderful and imagined that she were curled up against him.

"Tune your television to any channel it doesn't receive and about 1 percent of the dancing static you see is accounted for by this ancient remnant of the Big Bang. The next time you complain that there is nothing on, remember that you can always watch the birth of the universe."
― Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything