I got the idea for this story a while back but I just now got the chance to start it. I hope you like it and I didn't botch my portrayal of the time period, and if so I apologize. Please let me know what you think! Any review is a good review as far as I'm concerned!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Chapter One
It was the summer of 1918 when first I met him. It was well into the afternoon when Mother decided to gift me with the most wonderful news. We were invited to attend a ball at the Fredrickson estate by Mayor Fredrickson himself and as the daughter of one of the most influential businessmen I had no choice in the matter. It was no surprising matter to be invited to a party hosted by Mayor Fredrickson, not some two thirds of his campaign money had been generously donated by my Father. The Swan family practically owned Chicago, and Father made it a point to be taken into consideration for all the proposed bills as well. All in the best interest of Chicago's citizens, he would claim, and perhaps he really believed that it was. He was not a bad man, he was just not a great man either. He had a hard time accepting his faults.
"Isabella! We leave in an hour! Why is it that you are still standing there in your shift? Have you gone mad?" Mother exclaimed, aghast at finding me staring unseeingly into the mirror of my vanity, lost in thought.
"No mother, I was just thinking is all. I am sorry if I have offended. I will be ready in time to leave. Betsy will assist me," she soothed, standing gracefully and crossing her room to take the gown that had been prepared for the evening down from the wardrobe. It really was quite lovely as gowns went; all blue satin and cream lace, tied at the waist with a cream sash.
"Nonsense, there is no need. I am already ready, I shall assist you myself," she insisted, gesturing for me to stand in front of her before vigorously tightening my corset. I gasped, quickly wishing I hadn't when I found I could no more get that lost breath back than bottle a summer breeze.
"Mother, please? Is this really necessary?" I implored, resting a hand on my stomach. I truly despised such devices of torture. It was no way to live, this discomfort. No way to live at all.
"Beauty is pain, Isabella. I have said as much before. Do you not wish to find a decent husband? You are almost seventeen, you should not need me to remind you of such things."
"Yes Mother."
"Now be a good girl and help me pull this dress over you head. There you go. See? You look lovely. Now let's see what we can do about this hair," she went on in an almost disgusted tone of voice, all but forcing me onto the stool in front of the vanity before going to work taming my brown locks. Next was jewelry, a hint of rouge, and a smile. "Stunning."
"Thank you Mother, but shouldn't we be going?" I asked, using the best diversion I could think of before she came up with more ideas for torturing me.
"Oh dear! You're right! Your farther will not be pleased. Grab your bag darling, and do hurry. It is hardly becoming of a young woman to make one's parents late."
"Yes Mother, I'm coming."
After one last glance in the mirror we left the bedroom only to find Father waiting impatiently at the bottom of the stairs, the open front door revealing Father's new motor car. He only used it on special occasions.
"It's about time," he mumbled grumpily, shuffling us into the back before taking the driver's seat for himself. He didn't believe in chauffeurs, he despised any lack of control. He had been that way for as long as I could remember.
It wasn't long before we reached the Frederickson's' estate and a doorman opened the door for my mother and I to get out, offering a hand first to her and then me before closing the door behind us. Father met us on the far side and together we entered the manor. The entrance hall was stunning. Round tables lined the walls draped in white and adorned with a single rose each in an ornate crystal vase. Most of the guests had already arrived and were busy mingling. Women dressed in their finest, bedecked with jewels as they flitted like so many hundreds of butterflies from group to group, the delicate chime of their voices creating a steady hum that could have served as the beating of a thousand tiny butterfly wings. The chandelier overhead cast a dim light throughout the room and a small orchestra was playing in the far corner. Before long I found myself alone; my father pulled away by the Mayor while my mother went to the nearest circle to began gleaning what she could from the latest gossip. By rights I should have found a circle of my own but instead I said a few polite greetings before taking a seat in one of the corners to the side of the door at an empty table.
Deciding to take advantage of a nearby lamp I pulled a book from my small handbag and began to read. It was leather bound and heavily worn, the spine soft from constant rereading. Shakespeare's sonnets had always been one of my favorites and for what must have been the thousandth time I set about rereading them. It was ensconced as such in my book that I found myself startled back to reality.
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate," a rich voice like that of silk brushing against stone whispered from above and to her right.
"You are mistaken, sir. I am only on the third sonnet," I replied in kind, lifting my eyes from the aged pages of my book to see who had disturbed me. Most knew better.
Standing in front of me was possibly the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He had the most beautiful emerald green eyes partially hidden by stray strands of unruly hair that seemed to be rebelling against what ever style it might have been in when the party began as it was near unrecognizable now. His cheeks were flushed from what could only have been dancing and his full lips were quirked into an almost goofy, crooked grin. In his eyes was a mischievous glint that spoke of secrets well kept. It was only then that I realized I had been holding my breath.
"Might I ask the name of so stunning a figure as yourself? Or do you wish to continue shrouding yourself in mystery? Sitting alone at a party full of eligible young men tends to scare most of them off," he teased, that light in his eyes flashing just a bit brighter before settling back to it's earlier glint.
"Did you ever consider that I might not enjoy dancing with a bunch of tongue tied fools? I do not appreciate being a tool, and that is all I am to them. A ladder upon which to launch their position in society. As for my name, you may call me Bella," I replied smoothly, glancing at him suspiciously from beneath my lashes. I could almost believe he had no idea who I was.
"Well Bella, would you do me the honor of sharing this dance? It's not right for a lady such as yourself to be confined to a corner on a night such as this. You would not hide a rose in a cupboard."
"Alright, I will dance with you," I paused, waiting for him to settle back down when his hastiness to lead me to the dance floor cut me off before I could finish. "Under one condition, that is."
"Oh? And what might that condition be?" he asked, suddenly wary but still holding himself with the utmost confidence.
"I require a name with which to call you." He smiled.
"My name is Edward."
"Very well Edward, do hurry before I change my mind," I teased with a feigned long suffering sigh.
"As you wish, miss."
With that he led me to the dance floor, back strait and chin up he was the picture of confidence while the mannerisms drilled into me from childhood kicked in and I used my free hand to lift my skirt slightly, the picture of elegance as I glided through the crowd a step beside him. Had I ten books on my head in that moment not a one would have so much as trembled.
Once we had reached the floor he turned smoothly and made a formal bow which I returned with a small curtsy before meeting his advance and gracefully falling back as we began a waltz. His eyes were full of life and laughter as he grinned down at me, never moving beyond a respectable distance as we danced. I smiled in return; he was a lovely dancer.
"So how is it such a wonderful dancer as yourself finds herself hiding in the shadows with a book?" he asked teasingly, his lips once again twisted into that goofy crooked smile. I couldn't help but like the way it softened his face.
"I don't much like parties," I replied simply. To be honest, it was a bit of an understatement; I despised such stuffy affairs as balls.
"I understand. I wouldn't even be here were it not for my mother's insistence. Apparently I don't leave the house enough for their liking. Although, if this is what leaving the house gets me I might have to venture away from my threshold more often."
"Oh? Why's that?" I asked curiously. He had a strange look in his eye that I couldn't quite place and though it was admittedly quite unsettling I nevertheless found myself all but weak kneed as it locked on me.
"Well if it's not too forward, I would like to meet with you again. Tomorrow perhaps?" he looked almost nervous with that statement and it was everything I could do not to fall over from shock. Was it hotter in here of a sudden?
"I would very much like that," slipped out before I could stop it. I couldn't believe myself! I was acting as brazen as a barmaid! But no matter how wrong it was, I could not even bring myself to regret the words. He smiled. He really did have the most beautiful eyes.
We finished the dance in silence before starting the next. His eyes never left my face as he whirled me about the floor and I quickly found myself having more fun than I could remember having since I was a girl running errands around town with mother. My face flushed from the dance and his hand on my waist. No one else in the world mattered. No one else in the world existed. Finally, when we could dance no longer, he took me by the hand and led me out to one of the manor's many terraces where he took my hand in his and gently kissed the back.
"Beautiful," he murmured, eyes locked on mine. I thought my knees would surely give in a faint.
"I never pegged you for a brown-noser Edward. Don't be silly. I look a mess!" I had just been dancing after all! My hair was loose and in a curly disarray about my face. The rouge had long since been sweated off, surely, and on top of it all I looked a sweaty, flushed fool!
"I speak truly, Bella. On my honor, never have I seen so beautiful a sight in all my years. You could make the flowers sing with envy."
All that served was to make me blush even harder. I couldn't believe he had just said that! I very suddenly became increasingly interested in my shoes. That is, at least, until he lifted my chin so that I was forced to look back at him; until I was forced into the rapture that was manifest in his eyes. I had to consciously withhold the hum that tried to escape my lips like a cat with a fresh saucer of milk.
"Would it too bold to kiss you know?" he asked in a near breathless whisper.
"Yes," I answered softly, never breaking his gaze, but when he made as if to release me I hastily added, "I never said I didn't want you to though." His eyes took on a light of surprise as his eyes flickered hesitantly from my eyes to my lips and back before tantalizingly, slowly lowering his own to meet mine before pulling back just as slowly. His eyes stayed on mine, hungry, astonished, enraptured. I rose up on my toes and reconnected our lips before I even realized my own actions. Blushing at my boldness I hastily stood flat on my heels once more. The party was beginning to dwindle as people went home. Doubtless, mother was looking for me.
"May I see you again?" he asked, eyes almost pleading.
"Every morning at seven I take Sparrow for my morning ride in the park to the north of town. Meet me at the eastern entrance and we can talk." I replied quickly, gathering myself as I prepared to head back inside.
"I will be there," was all he said as I sped past, causing a smile to light my face. Mother would be most displeased if ever she found out I was sneaking around with a boy instead of allowing him to court me through father as was proper, but for once I had something all to myself and I wanted it to stay that way. For a while at least. Perhaps mother was not so wrong in her hopes for an upcoming marriage.