Chapter 3

Edward wasn't sure what to write. He had promised Rosalie upon his departure to write to her very often. So far not a word had passed between them and he was sure she was becoming agitated with him as she so often did. But in a very Rosalie type way she would never even consider writing to him about it. She would stew in her own anger until he wrote to her. Then she would unleash hell upon him. Or something like that. Either way, he felt he needed to write soon and get it over with.

Dear Rosalie,

I know this probably is much too late for your liking, but I have found myself quite overwhelmed by taking care of my aunt, and all hermany acquaintances coming to call and asking how she fares. I have even met one girl, who I find quite

He tossed that away. He wanted to tell Rosalie or at least someone how he felt about Isabella Swan, but he wasn't sure how, and the whole matter was only muddled more so now that she hadn't been round the house for a few days. Should he just put in straight down on paper that he felt very much attached though he had known her only a short time? Should he merely allude and let Rosalie draw her own conclusions? But then she would no doubt share her suspicions with his sister, Alice. Should he ask her not to talk to Alice about it, or should she be informed? He almost wanted to ask them to come and meet her for themselves. But he didn't really want them poking their noses into his life that much.

Dear Rosalie,

I know this letter is probably later than you expected, and I do apologize, but much has happened since I entered this town. People have been coming to visit to meet me and enquire after my aunt almost without pause. I should think there are a great deal more people here than in London if I did not know it was not so. I know it is of grave importance that I not keep you waiting on news of my aunt. She is well enough that I do not think it is at all necessary for anyone to come and see her. I dare say she has years in her yet, but she is not so well that I could consider leaving her. I offer my most sincere apologies that you will have to continue to look in on Alice while I'm away. I know you claim it is not a burden, but I do know Alice can be quite exhausting. Speaking of her, how is Alice? Has she been much trouble?

I'll admit there's another reason I did not write before.

How to put it? How to put it? he asked himself.

I'll admit there's another reason I did not write before. I have been spending sometime socializing

He tossed away the paper again. Rosalie knew him all too well for that. "socializing" was not one of his favorite past-times and she would either not believe him and think it only an excuse for why he hasn't written, or realize that something else entirely was going on with him.

Dear Rosalie,

I apologize for how long it's taken me to write to you. I will explain it all to you, I promise, but I think it would be for the best if we postponed the explanation to the next time I see you in person or perhaps when things have resolved themselves and are clearer to me. All you must know is that Aunt Esme is still ill, but recovering quite well. I do hope you will tell me how Alice is. I miss her terribly, please tell her so. I miss you, too, of course. I could use your harsh, realistic advice these days.

Edward

He sighed at his own avoidance of the matter, but he could not bring himself to change the letter.

Having finished the letter he realized that some other unpleasant, but necessary errands had to be done also. Ms. Louisa was being run ragged, and knowing Ms. Swan's kindness would most likely not be repeated, he decided it was necessary to hire his aunt a cook. He would have to post an ad in the paper today if he wanted to find a decent one within in the month. He sighed, knowing that he wouldn't find anyone with Isabella's skill in the kitchen. With this burden he rode into town to post the ad.

Bella's excitement was uncontainable as she dressed in all her finest day clothes with her favorite straw hat. She was only hours from seeing her favorite brother again. The silly, childish, totally improper brute whom she loved dearly was nearly back to her. She had no doubt that years away at sea would have changed him some, but she also knew he would perpetually be her playful, affectionate, older brother. God! Have I missed him! she thought to herself as she fidgeted with her hair and her dress.

Only when she had exited the carriage in town did she stop toying with her clothes and hair. Her eyes whirled about the port desperately searching for the towering, majestic ship bearing the name Susanna.

When she found it she quickened her steps and walked toward it with no regard for her father who was trying to keep pace behind her. When she saw his brutish figure carrying a barrel to shore, she nearly ran, but managed to rein herself in. He was adding the barrel to the pile, when he caught sight of her and abandoning his work he ran to her, wrapping his arms around her thin waist, he lifted her right off the ground. They were both laughing and crying. Charlie managed to catch up and hugged his son too, with a half-hearted scolding for not treating Isabella more like a lady. Emmett laughed.

"Why papa, for Emmett, that was decent behavior! He treats every lady he likes as much as he likes me just so!" Isabella laughed.

"Well, I've never seen it, and anyway he shouldn't" Charlie grumbled.

"You've never seen it, because there's no other lady I like quite so well as I like Isabella!" Emmett said, sweeping her into another fierce hug.

"That's quite enough, be as affectionate as you must when we return home. This is no place for it, here in public," Charlie he didn't object when Emmett kissed the top of her head before letting her go.

Edward watched her exit the carriage, and saw a man exit behind her. He couldn't quite decide whether or not it was Isabella, but he felt compelled to start towards them. She was moving very quickly though, and he was very far off still when she was swept into the air by a huge man, who had been unloading a ship only a moment ago. He halted in his tracks, heart clenching. He had almost convinced himself that he might be worthy of and maybe even already held her affections. Of course not! How foolish to think… he berated himself.

He assumed the older man leading them back to the carriage was Isabella's father, and from his embrace and general attitude toward the man, Edward could only suppose that her father was pleased with the match. And why not? This man was affectionate toward Isabella, looked like a giant and certainly held a respectable job. Edward, on the other hand, could not begin to any woman, let alone Isabella, how he felt. He was not particularly large or strong, and worst of all he held a job that was not respected practically at all. In spite of the fortune he had, most men still thought it to be a total waste of time, fooling about with stars and such nonsense.