A/N: Okay, here it is! I know that you guys have been waiting patiently, and not so patiently, for it and I hope it doesn't disappoint. I have been really nervous about this, and have tried to research it but I am sure I will miss some stuff. The way we are writing this is that I, Acireamos, will write Edward's pov and Aly, Anuddaone, will write Bella's pov. Those will be the only two pov's we will write even though the other characters will be in the story.

Much thanks and praise to the chat bunch…I won't name names, but these bitches are fab…giving lots of good suggestions, ideas, and love…the dirty kind. I am inspired by your smutasticness daily and love you all to death!

And thanks to my favorite Captain Jackpuff, Mari, for helping me with the whole viscount situation. You are a lifesaver…a cherry one.

EPOV

I heard the knock on the study door, and lifted my head from my books, calling for the person to enter. The door opened and Newton, my valet stepped in.

"Sire, there was another letter delivered today. It appears to be from a creditor of Master Anthony's."

"Just bring it to me." I was tired, exhausted from trying to settle all of my brother's debt. He gambled and whored unceasingly, and our family's funds were draining because of it. "Is the messenger still here, Newton?"

"No, Sire. He departed quickly after making his delivery. Is there anything I can bring you?"

"That will be all." I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. I would need to speak with Anthony again. He was the oldest son, but failed to act his role. It forced me, as the younger son, into the role of caretaker for him, a role which I resented greatly. My studies at University were very important to me, and I hoped to become a barrister one day. Anthony, as the oldest son, would take control of the family estate so I would need some sort profession to provide for myself and my family. My father had hoped I would join the military, perhaps become a great Captain or General.

But combat didn't interest me. I was enthralled with the workings of the law; our recent upheaval in government had grasped my attention and not let it go. The way that law allowed for only one side to be in the right, the way that good and evil were clearly called out, was very intriguing. I had always felt that there was too much consideration given to unnecessary details when a crime had been committed. The truth was evident, either the act had been done or it hadn't.

And in my brother's case, much had been done. I had already spoken with him countless times about the stress he was putting on the family and the way he was casting our family name in an unfavorable light. But he had refused to listen, claiming his right as the first son to do as he pleased without counsel from his younger brother. The fact that I had even approached him about the matter was insulting to him.

If only he could understand that he was insulting our family with his outrageous behavior. I sighed, before standing up from my chair. My body was stiff with disuse; the hours spent studying having melted by. Perhaps I would go riding this afternoon, before tea.

--

After riding for several hours, I returned my horse to the stable, leaving him with the groom to be curried. The exhilaration of galloping in the brisk spring air had cleared my mind. I had tried to think of how I would approach Anthony, but was still unsure. He had reacted badly to my previous attempts. But there had to be some way to reach him. This was not only for his reputation, but for our family's sake as well. If he could understand how much this hurt our father, perhaps then he would see reason.

As I entered the house, there was a hush among the servants. No one moved to help me with my jacket or to bring me a drink. By the time I reached my rooms, I had been almost completely ignored. My anger at the situation was brought to a head, when I saw that Newton was sitting in my own chair, his head down on the desk.

"Newton!" My voice was sharp and he jolted upright out of the seat.

"Sire, I apologize for my poor judgment. It will not happen again." He was trembling, and I wondered if it was simply from his mistake.

"Bring me my tea now; I am ravenous from my ride."

"Sire, there is news of your brother." His voice broke on the last words. He had grown up with Anthony and I, and was very attached to the both of us.

"Yes? What news?" I was impatient and tired of the melodrama that seemed to envelope Anthony's life.

"Master Anthony was in a duel this morning at dawn, Sire, and he was not victorious. He was shot in the neck, and died shortly after." Tears had filled his eyes, but he quickly straightened and bowed before backing out of the room.

I imagine he meant to leave me to my grief, but I was filled with inconsolable rage. Rage at the stupidity of my brother's actions, rage at his poor shot, rage at the fact that I was left to take care of everything yet again. As the oldest son now, I would have to return home and the chances of my finishing at university were very slim.

"Damn it!" I slammed my fist down on my desk, before sliding it across the surface, throwing all of my papers and books to the floor.

Pacing the floor, I moved to look out my window. I knew what I would have to do. Anthony's body would have to be returned home and while I was there I would try to convince my father that I should stay at University. He was unlikely to agree.

My own feelings about Anthony were mixed. He was my older brother and would have been the head of our family. He would have inherited the title from our father and carried the weight of it on his shoulders.

Now the weight would be on mine.

--

The carriage ride home was a long and dusty one. We had stopped once to water the horses before starting our journey again. The wagon carrying Anthony's body was following behind and the constant reminder of what I would face at home was wearing on me. We were approaching the village that sat just outside of our estate when I knocked on the roof of the carriage, calling up to the groom to stop at the Inn and have a drink before moving on.

My clothes felt like they were suffocating me, my breeches tight across my thighs. I wonder if my gait would be affected. The close fit of my coat was restricting my breathing, and I needed to collect myself. A moment of rest and ale would be just the thing, I hoped.

It was a respectable looking building, kept clean on the outside. I could only hope the same could be said of the interior. Moving from the relative darkness of the coach, to the bright sunlight blinded me momentarily. The brightness shocked me and I stepped into the inn quickly. I blinked, trying to regain my sight. Shaking my head, I sat down at an empty table.

After a moment of quiet, I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't turn, instead continued to face towards the fire.

"Sire, is there anything I can get for you?" Her voice was low and soft.

My head turned towards the girl, starting at her feet, working my way up her body. She was curvy, with her stays pulled tight around her waist. The swells under the cream colored cotton of her chemise were tempting as was her pale ivory skin. I dragged my gaze from her collarbone, up her smooth throat to a very luscious set of lips. They were full and a deep pink, as if she had been eating berries just before coming out into the main room.

I inhaled deeply, trying to collect myself.

She even smelled of berries and the blush that spread across her cheeks was enchanting. I must be making her nervous with my slow perusal, but I didn't stop myself. Her eyes were deep brown fringed with dark lashes, lashes that were the same color as her thick hair. I couldn't tells it's length as it was pulled back in a intricate knot at the nape of her neck and covered in a cap, but my fingers longed to pull it free, running through to the ends.

My groan of want pulled me out of my stupor. This was some common serving girl, not someone I should concern myself with. And certainly not to the degree that I was. I guessed though that she would be the type that would be opposed to a tryst, as she seemed very innocent and pure. Her flush while I was just looking at her indicated her inexperience with men.

I had hardly noticed my own breathing pick up, but the tightness in my trousers couldn't be ignored. Where my breeches had been uncomfortable before, they were quickly becoming painful now. The effect this girl had on me was startling. Never before had I felt this rush, this desire for someone. I coughed, trying to cover up my reaction.

There were probably plenty of girls that would be willing to entertain me while I was here. No need to worry about this one, she would be forgotten quickly.

"An ale."

I met her eyes as I informed her of my need, and her eyes widened, shocked, not dropping her gaze in deference as she should have. I smirked at her insolence, before turning away again.

"Oh. I beg your pardon, sir." She hesitated before walking away, and I could hear her sigh as she turned.

I felt her skirts brush my leg, when she moved towards the kitchen. Her scent wrapped around me, clouding my head again. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to remember why I was here, where I was headed.

After a few moments she was back, setting my ale in front of me before wordlessly turning away. I felt the urge to reach out and grab her wrist, forcing her to stay but I didn't. This rush of attraction would fade, and there was no need to have a scandal in town. Anthony had been the son that created scandal, not me.

Taking a long drink from the glass, I looked around the room. It was quaint and orderly, with smooth stone walls and battered wood floors. It was much cleaner than the usual inn, with obvious care being taken to keep it that way. I wondered if it was the serving girl that put forth such effort or if there was a woman of the house. Perhaps she is the woman of the house. She is old enough to have been married off.

But the idea that she was married to some man old enough to be her father bothered me. The fact that she could be warming the bed of this as yet unnamed man was making my chest tight with anger. Such a beauty as that, wasted on an aged husband, ridiculous.

I finished my glass, pushing it away from me before I stood. It was time to go home, time to face my father.

I left several coins on the worn table top as payment and made my way towards the door. Glancing behind me I saw the girl standing next to an older man, his arm around her shoulders, his head leaning down. A waste.

Pushing open the door, I made my way to the carriage.

--

The ride home passed slowly, despite the fact that my family home wasn't far from the town. I tried to tell myself that it was the scene ahead of me that I was dreading, but I knew that wasn't it.

Upon arriving, I jumped down from my seat, eager to put this behind me. I strode to the door, leaving the servants to deal with my baggage and Anthony's remains. Esme met me at the door. She was the head maid, having moved up from nanny after Anthony and I came of age. Her sad countenance was almost more than I could handle. After our mother had passed, she had been our only real caretaker. Our father had been too busy and then later when he married Victoria, she was not interested in us, not having wanted children at all. Esme was the closest thing to a mother either of us had known and it broke my heart to see her in such pain.

"Welcome home, Edward." Her shining eyes were kind, too kind for this household.

I reached for her, grasping her hand in mine. It was an improper gesture towards a servant, but it didn't matter to me at that moment. For all the pain his death had caused me, I knew hers was just as great. Perhaps even more so; as I hadn't allowed her to hear of his recent more uncivilized behavior so that her image of him wouldn't become as tarnished as mine had.

She wiped at her tears, looking around worriedly. We both knew if Victoria saw this exchange she would mention it to my father insisting he speak to Esme again. For some reason, Victoria felt threatened by Esme and took every opportunity to make her life difficult. I never understood why my father allowed it. In fact, when I was younger it used to be one of my main points of argument with him. I would argue on Esme's behalf, railing against the injustice Victoria would heap upon her.

My father would only say that he would deal with her, but whether he meant Esme or Victoria I did not know.

We walked into the house, where we were met by the rest of the staff. I advised them of where to put everything for now. My father would have the final decision on where we would put my brother. The sadness that permeated the air was stifling and I yearned to leave, to just get on a horse and ride. But that would have to wait.

My father's library was a heavily paneled room, dark and masculine. As I knocked and then entered, I noticed how aged my father was looking. I hadn't been home in some time so I had missed this deterioration. Surely he would have sent me a message if he was ill?

"Edward. You've made it. I hope your travel was not uncomfortable?" He sounded weaker as well, sadness clouding his voice.

"My ride was uneventful at least and we made good time. I trust you received my message?"

He sighed and nodded; his head down. "Yes, we received the news about Anthony. It pains me greatly that my son has passed and in such a fashion. I had great hopes for him."

"I wish that I had been able to save him from such a fate. My plan had been to meet with him again that day; I had hoped to pull him free of those vices." The words broke, guilt washing over me.

"It wasn't your responsibility, son. He should have known, but it is too late now. Too late indeed." He beckoned me to the sofa where he was sitting. "But it's you now that will hold the title when I leave this world."

"You speak of your passing as if it is imminent. That is surely not the case?"

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Son, you can see that I am not well. Whether this is a passing illness or if it will be that which brings me to my end, I do not know. But you must be prepared to run the estate and care for our family name if it is."

Panic burned through my veins. I had been expecting a request to return home, even though I wanted to continue my studies. But faced with my father in such poor health, I knew I couldn't bring myself to ask for leave to finish university. There was no choice, between Anthony's death and my fathers current physical shape, I would have to stay here and most likely marry soon, ensuring the continuation of the Cullen name and our title.

My shoulders slumped forward, the weight of my newfound responsibility pressing on me. Standing, ready to escape if only temporarily, I nodded to my father before speaking.

"I believe I will head to the stables, you mentioned a new mare in your last letter and I want to see her for myself."

"Yes, she is a beauty. Your stepmother named her Bellissima, she's taken to emulating the Italians now." He had a wry smile on his face when he spoke of her, indicating how seriously he took her aspiration to be more Continental.

I laughed; amused at the condescending way he spoke about Victoria. She was always trying to be more than she truly was, having been the daughter of a local merchant when she married my father, bringing with her a large dowry while gaining a title. Her move up in the world may have been the reason behind her cruel treatment of the servants in the house and of the townspeople. Or it may be that she is just a foul person, with no love for anyone but herself. I believed it was the latter.

Shaking my head free of thoughts of that woman, I strode purposefully to the stables. I would see this new horse, the latest addition, and then go for a ride to relax.

As I walked though, I found myself thinking about the serving girl in the inn; her face imprinted on my mind and wondered when I would see her next. It was ridiculous, that I would be infatuated with a girl so beneath me. I tried to focus on something else, but there wasn't anything taking her place.

I thought of the days ahead, Anthony's funeral would be soon. The ceremony would be held in the church, a church my family had built in town many years ago. Most of the townsfolk would be there to pays their respects to my family and I couldn't help but hope she would be among them.

BPOV

"Isabella, will you please bring me my spectacles. I believe they are on the bar," my father called just as I was retreating to my room to ready myself for bed. We did not have many guest and they had all turned in for the evening.

"I'll be right there, Father."

I made my way carefully to the main room of my father's inn, the Lion and the Lamb, holding a sputtering candle. The small amount of light helped me to stay upright, avoiding the loose boards in the wooden floor. I did not want to trip and fall as I was known to do so often. Making it without incident, I found the requested item and checked again that the fire was safely out for the evening and the door was secure.

I knocked quietly on my father's study door and he beckoned me to enter. I handed him his glasses and turned to leave him to his business, wishing to have some time to myself before going to sleep.

"Bella, dear, please sit for a moment," he requested. I did as I was told, knowing what was to come.

My father was insistent that I find a husband soon. I was old enough of course, but I was content to stay with him, I did not feel it was necessary for me to marry. He needed someone to care for him and to help with the work here. When he passed on, I could simply go to work as a governess or with the church possibly. There weren't many options available to me, because of my sex, but I was determined to not be forced into a loveless marriage. My parents had loved each other; when my mother had died my father was bereft.

It was actually the only reason he continued to humor me in my ideas about staying here with him. I was his only child, and if he had a son or son-in-law, they would inherit the inn but I was not able to. He had been not so subtly suggesting different local men for the last several years, but I hadn't met anyone that I felt anything for. And I wanted to marry someone that I could love; a real passionate love like in Romeo and Juliet, by the playwright Shakespeare. If only I could convince him of this. Besides, it was not as if I had any real suitors to speak of.

"I know that we have talked about this at length but I need to know that you are taking me seriously. We need to find a husband to care of you. It is your future we speak of and this would ensure your happiness." He patted my knee, concern in his eyes.

I smiled and batted my eyelashes at him. "Father, are you so eager to get rid of me?" I knew that this was not the case, but I used any argument I could.

"You know that is not my intention," he furrowed his brow, "I want you to be provided for. I want to be sure of this, for my own peace of mind. You are just too mulish for your own good and I do not wish to choose for you, but I will if it is necessary. Have you given any thought to Jac-"

"Father, please. I am tired and wish to go to bed, if you would not mind?" My voice was lighter than my heart just then, as I had told him time and time again that Jacob would never be more than a friend to me. He knew I meant no disrespect but when he spoke about choosing whom I should marry I had a hard time staying quiet.

Knowing it was no use to argue he waved me off, reminding me that we would talk more about this soon. I said good night and quickly made my way from the room.

Getting ready for bed, I took off my linen cap and began brushing out my hair, before plaiting it in a loose braid that reached to my waist. I thought about my father's desire that I find a husband. I understood that he was getting older and only wanted me to be taken care of, but I just did not want to be wed as of yet. I felt like I was needed here still.

My mother had died in childbirth, as so many mothers do, when I was just turned 6. I had been so excited about the thought of a little brother or sister and to lose both mother and baby at the same time was hard on both of us. It wasn't uncommon but that didn't make it any easier to grieve. So, I was my father's caretaker and he needed me more than another man would. I helped him in the inn and made sure that there was food on the table for him. If I were to leave who would do those things? He was not thinking of himself now.

Also, I had other work that I was involved in that would be impossible if I were to have the responsibilities of a wife. I helped to provide for the poorest of the townspeople in anyway that I was able to. There were few others who were willing to take the time or the effort to provide for them if I did not. We were not rich, but I used what I could in order to make their lives a bit easier.

More than I could say for some of the wealthier ladies and gentleman in this town.

As I thought of the townspeople that I saw in the inn daily, I wondered why they could not see the needs of the others in the town.

Knowing that it was no use to think on this too much, my thoughts went to the stranger that had been in the inn that day. A gentleman, no doubt, wealthy and regal, but there was something else about him. Yes, his gaze lingered longer than necessary on me, but when his eyes met mine, I could not look away as custom dictates; there was just so much in that beautiful green stare. He seemed so sad, angry, and lost; I had never seen such emotion in one look. And in someone so young. It took me by surprise.

I had offended him, he let me know with a mocking crooked grin, and I quickly remembered who I was and brought him what he asked for, leaving the man to his torment.

Oddly, for the rest of the day, I continued to picture the gentleman and his sorrowful face. I could not fathom the reasoning. He was handsome, I could not deny that, but it was not his looks that haunted me, just his eyes. I felt the need to help him. I wanted to sooth away his sorrows. It seemed that such a beautiful face should not be marred by such anguish.

But I am a sensible girl, and he would not need the likes of me to help him, it was silly that I would even consider such a thing. He was only a stranger and my father always told me that I should not attempt to solve everyone's problems.

Even if I could, there were people in this town that needed my help much more than this man either way.

One last check that my father was settled for the night found him still in his office pouring himself a cup of tea. When he heard me at the door he offered me some tea and I accepted, knowing that we could now talk about other items rather than his desire for me to marry.

"So, Bella, hear anything interesting today?" He liked to hear stories about our patrons. He said he disapproved of scandalous chatter, but I think otherwise. And being just a serving girl, no one paid any mind if I overheard their talk, so I usually had plenty to share.

"Ah, nothing too exciting today, just the regulars." I realized now that after the stranger and his remarkable eyes, I had little recollection of the rest of my day, but it had not been a terribly busy day at the inn either. "How about you? Did you hear anything new about our fine neighbors?"

He chuckled lightly, "Some of the usual. Yorkie getting away from his wife, muttering things about her giving him no peace, and Miss Mallory fawning over young Crowley…"

I cringed. Tyler Crowley was someone I did not care for. He had a bad habit of not keeping his hands to himself. My father knew this though and made sure that I did not have to serve him when he was in, thankfully. He had no honorable intentions towards any woman, myself included.

"Maybe, if we are lucky, they will be wed soon and perhaps his visits will become less frequent," my father continued.

I smiled at his hopefulness, though with a man like that, I was not sure that marriage would stop him.

"Oh, I did hear some rather sad news from the servants at the Cullen estate. The youngest son was escorting his deceased brother's body from the city. Seems the eldest was killed in some sort of accident, I did not hear any specifics. Viscount Cullen must be beside himself, to lose a child…" he shook his head solemnly, knowing personally the pain he must feel.

My mind went to my sad stranger. The Cullen family was one the titled family that lived in the area. I thought of the patriarch of the family; dashing, youthful, his face beautifully poignant. His wife, Victoria, was striking, with fire red hair and a scowl on her lips each time I saw her. She did not seem to belong here, but I also knew that she was not the mother of the Cullen boys. Could my stranger have been the youngest Cullen? He just may have been. He was as handsome, or more so, than the father. His expressive eyes mirrored the Viscount's, though not in color.

Could be. And it would explain the pain that I saw. Yes, it most definitely could be. Though what it mattered, I wasn't sure.

My father had continued on about some other folks in the town, thought I had not heard much of what he said, I am sure it was really nothing new. We had the talks almost every evening. "…I believe he was trying to impress the young woman across the room, though she never looked his way," my father finished a story about another young man that visited today.

"When will men learn that being belligerent is not attractive?" I smiled at him. "I am going to go to bed now and you should get some rest as well, Father, it was a long day."

"You are aware, Isabella, that I am the parent and you are my child, I can take care of myself," he teased with a wink.

I kept a stern look on my face, "Yes, but if it were not for me, you would be weary and irritable all of the time, because you would get no rest or food. Now off to bed, young man." I pointed towards the door.

Laughing, he waved me off. Before I could get out of the room though, he stopped me.

"Oh, and Bella, Mr. Black has fallen ill and Jacob is managing the farm alone. Perhaps you would bring him a meal tomorrow in case he does not have time to get one for himself. With both of his sisters married and out of their father's house, he is left to his own devices."

I knew the intention of his request, but I also did not mind bringing my friend some supper. I knew he had a lot of responsibility with his father being sick. "Of course, I will. Did you want me to pass along any message to Billy?" He shook his head quickly; I smiled and left the room not wanting to encourage any more talk of marriage and husbands.

Once I was back in my room, I began undressing, taking off my robe, stomacher and petticoats. I took a deep breath when I loosened my stays, glad to be free of the restriction. I put them away in my wardrobe, standing in my chemise, cold without all of my layers.

Putting out my candle, I found my way to my bed, not realizing how tired I really was until I laid my head down. Normally, right before drifting to sleep I would think of the chores for the next morning or new ways that I could be of aid to the town, but this night I was only reflecting on the stranger, or the Cullen boy, if that is who he was. Even with his identity almost certain my mind was not willing to forget him. Reminding myself once more that there was nothing that he needed or wanted from me, I was finally able to fall into a very deep sleep.

AC: So, here it is! It's taking a lot longer than I thought it would...

AN: eh, hopefully they will forgive us...

AC: We are trying to be accurate but historians we aren't so it's a lot of research.

AN: And looking at pics of Rob in tight breeches!

AC: Exactly, we have to be inspired.

AN: Good thing he is VERY inspiring.

AC: Too true. Gah...is that drool on my keyboard?

AN: Well, we won't be updating as often as we did with LATS, but that hopefully we can keep the quality up.

AC: We'll see soon what they think so far…that is, if they review!