A/N: The last chapter! Thank you to everyone for all your support with this story. It has been fun!

Thanks again to cosmo9 for supporting the Fandom Gives Back and for sharing this with you all. And thanks to revrag for the beta work :)

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

Chapter 4

"I need my brooch, Alice! Where is my emerald brooch?"

"Calm down. It's right here." Alice pinned the delicate arrangement of precious stones to the front of Bella's bodice. She looked beautiful, all dark green and gold in her dress and surcoat, and Alice couldn't wait to see her beside Edward today. They were certainly going to make a handsome couple.

"Am I ready?" Bella asked anxiously. She was far more nervous than Alice had been on her own wedding day. In fact, it was the most panicky Alice had ever seen Bella.

"Not quite. There is just one more thing." Alice made her way over to her small travelling chest, musing along the way, "You really don't need to be this nervous, Bella. Edward is here, we know he has every intention of marrying you." She found what she was looking for and carried it back.

"I'm not nervous about the wedding," Bella admitted and sighed loudly. "I want him to like me, Alice. I don't want to be a disappointment to him."

Alice grinned. She'd seen Edward around the castle the day prior and she could see the how highly strung he was. "He is a young man. I don't think it would be possible for you to disappoint him. Now, hold out your leg."

Bella did as she was bade and Alice lifted her skirts to tie a delicate lace garter at the top of her silk stocking, then repeated the action on her other leg. "Of course," she added, smirking at Bella conspiratorially. "These should help matters."

Bella glanced down at her legs, amazed by the generosity of Alice. The garters were beautiful, much nicer than any she had ever seen, and threaded through with strips gold that matched her dress. She supposed that Edward would like them—very much.

"Alice, did you make these?" she asked.

"Consider it my gift to you," she replied, placing a kiss for good luck on Bella's cheek. "Now come, it is time to go."

Bella stood carefully, not wanting to mess her appearance, and followed Alice down to the courtyard.

Edward was pasty white and sweating under the warm sun in his court wear as he waited for his bride.

"You look awful, Edward," his brother Jasper observed. "You could try to appear happy, at least." Jasper shifted, also uncomfortable in the excessive clothing.

Edward grimaced. He didn't want Isabella to think him unhappy, because he wasn't. He was nervous, and hot, and the sweat that was trailing down his brow was irritating, but he wasn't unhappy. What he really felt was impatience.

Jasper couldn't recognise that though. He had the brash nature of a young single man, unable to appreciate the urge that some men felt to marry. He was mistaking Edward's behaviour for one being wed against his will, the only form of union in his young and presumptuous mind.

Many Clallam townspeople had turned out for the spectacle of a noble marriage, along with several neighbouring lords. Charles and the bishop were sequested inside the church, awaiting the arrival of Isabella and escaping the heat. The crowd of onlookers, whilst not as intimidating as Charles, were still serving to make Edward more uncomfortable. He was certain he could see heat radiating out from the large circle of witnesses.

"Lord, is there no breeze to spare," he thought wishfully to himself. He wished for anything to help relieve his distress and aide his countenance.

"I believe that will be your lady now," Jasper announced, noting that the onlookers were all moving, turning to stare in the direction of the main hall. Edward could see nothing beyond their sea of heads and so prepared to wait patiently, ignoring the pointed glances he was receiving from his brother.

Whether it was their combined movements of the crowd, or that God really did hear his prayer, the wind picked up and gushed around Edward, cooling him and lifting his mood. The breeze continued to blow steadily, and the people began to clear a path, separating out while sounds of approval and awe resonated amongst them.

Then Edward saw her.

She was walking with her sister who Edward had met briefly the day before, their arms linked and swinging as they made their way through the crowd. Isabella's mother, Renee, trailed behind them, and Edward could see straight away that Isabella shared little in common with her. She was Charles' daughter—that was certain. He returned his attention to his beauty.

The same breeze that had been sweeping around him made her look like an angel in flight. Her dress billowed out behind her, pulling it taut along her figure and reminding Edward of the glory that lay beneath. Her veil trailed out on the breeze, gently whipping around in the air, and Edward caught glimpses of her dark auburn hair, stirring his already frustrated desire.

She smiled at him, a sweet smile so befitting of an angel, and his heart swelled. He had no remaining doubt that he wanted her for his wife. Her beauty, her strong will, her devilish words—he wanted it all.

Charles had heard the murmurings and exited the church with the bishop in time to see his daughters and wife arriving. Isabella looked radiant, something he expected to see. What he didn't expect though was for the lad to be salivating at the sight of her. It was discomforting to Charles, the thought that he was giving the unseasoned boy a gift that he obviously wanted. He wasn't used to granting wishes, and the act was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. But then he saw that the boy's obvious enthusiasm was reflected in his daughter's smile and he reined in his regrets. She would be happy with this marriage, and he owed that to her.

With a resigned sigh, he prepared to give his consent to the union.

The Bishop eyed the approaching bride with carefully veiled distaste. She was wanton, of that he was certain. For years there had been rumours of her behaviour, of how she would beguile young men into compromising positions, have her way them and then rush off to receive the ever present adoration of her father. She was unfettered and likely to be a painful addition to this lad's life. For that reason, the bishop was opposed to this union at heart, but he was also too weak to voice his opinion and risk the wrath of Charles. Instead, he was praying for the young lad's soul, praying that she did not corrupt him with her devilish ways.

The heat bore down on him—a sign in his mind of the hell he was unleashing—while he watched the girl cover the last few steps. Upon reaching them, she smiled dazzlingly at her betrothed, then her father, and even the bishop had to admit she was a stunning sight.

Bella could taste victory—that's how close she was to it. Edward looked happy to see her, delighted even. She finally felt that everything was going to be okay, that despite his lack of contact, he did want her as his wife. His eyes were almost painful to look at, given how intensely they were conveying his emotions. Yes, he definitely wanted her. And she wanted him.

When she was finally next to him, she let out a relieved breath, then tore her eyes away from the stunning green of her betrothed to entreat the Bishop to begin.

And with some reluctance, he began.

The wedding festivities were to run all afternoon and well into the evening. Bella's mother had planned an extravagant line-up of entertainment: jugglers, minstrels, and even a group of travelling bards. Copious amounts of ale and wine were served as befitted the event, and delicious food was painstakingly prepared and served to the masses of guests and townsfolk that were in attendance. Dishes of venison, pheasant, roast suckling pig and eels were served. The lord's table was set with gilded goblets and even more delectable meals—mostly Charles' favourites.

Edward was seated in between Charles and Isabella, a show of the union they were forming with this marriage. He was very aware of being the centre of attention, and most uncomfortable because of it. More people than he had ever seen before were seated in rows spanning the entire grand hall. They ate heartily, drank thirstily, and talked and talked and talked. Edward could hear their constant chatter and it sounded to him like impending doom—a deep unrelenting rumble. The heat was still present, adding to his discomfort, and if not for the presence of the young beauty beside him—his wife—he would have fled long ago.

Isabella went out of her way to engage her new husband in loving glances. He was startled, she was sure, and looked like a caged falcon, frantic and desperate to fly. She calmed him with soft smiles and encouraged him to drink the rich Bordeaux, knowing it would go some way to easing his anxieties. It was strange to her, that he should be so unused to the life of a noble, and yet he was about to become one. But she also found it refreshing, adding to his innocent charm. As she watched him take another deep drink from the goblet she proffered, it dawned on her that she really didn't want him to be in his cups later that eve. She decided perhaps conversation would be better.

"My dear husband, are you happy?" she asked quietly, allowing him the opportunity to alleviate his worries verbally.

He looked at her, part relieved, but still very much so scared. "There are just so many people. I'm afraid I find it a little overwhelming," he admitted.

Bella looked out over the sea of faces, some familiar, most not, and viewed the scene through her husband's eyes. It was loud, crowded, and hot. "For the townsfolk, it is a rare event that they get to dine at their lord's residence. They are excited, for certes, but joyful, too. Do you see their cheeks are rosy with mirth, and their smiles wide with sated appetites? Perhaps if you focus instead on the goodwill coming from these people, then you will feel more relaxed."

Edward looked at his wife with obvious surprise. It was the most he had ever heard her speak, and he was immensely proud with what he heard. What a beguiling creature he had married: beautiful, forthcoming, salacious, and intelligent. "I think you may be right," he agreed with her, and didn't miss how she shone with his response. With his new found optimism, he resumed his meal, though now, instead of watching the guests, he eyed his wife. The effect was not entirely soothing, but it did give him something to preoccupy his mind with whilst the festivities ran their course.

After several hours of eating, drinking, and general carousing, the guests began their usual demand for the bedding revelries to begin. Edward and Bella found themselves being pulled along in a wave of raucous cheers, at least a quarter of the guests milling around and following them up the stairwell. Edward was discomforted, but he was so close to being able to make love to his wife that it barely bothered him. If anything, he was worried the crowd would simply be a hindrance—something he didn't need right then. Isabella was rushed up before him, a dove amidst a flock of clucking fowl. She threw one last gleeful look over her shoulder at him, and her obvious excitement took his breath away.

The men steered Edward into Charles' chamber, where they began to pass around more wine for toasting. The jokes began pouring out almost as fast as the liquor—quips of bedroom humour that made Edward blush and swallow nervously.

A lord he didn't know was boisterously proclaiming, "The lad should indeed be a stallion in the bed chamber; he's young, has too much energy, and will likely mount the lass ere she sees him coming."

His observation was met with laughter, making Edward even more uncomfortable. He hadn't given much thought to how he would go about bedding Isabella again. The last time, well, she had initiated relations between them. This time... perhaps he should have considered this prior to consuming several goblets of wine.

"Now, now, Lord William," came the unexpected voice of Charles. "Our young Calawah has shown himself to possess great restraint, not to mention commendable ambition. Do you think a stallion doth possess those qualities?"

Edward sent a relieved look to his father-in-law, thankful for the interjection.

"You're right, Charles." the man continued, oblivious to Charles' attempt to diffuse the situation. "Perhaps the lad be a gelding!"

Another wave of raucous laughter swept over Edward and he blanched. He did not want to have to defend his manliness to a lord who was far too drunk to be on the receiving end of rationale. And he did not want Charles to have to speak for him again. He eyed the lord, taking in his round gut and red nose, and realised the man was probably not much of a stallion himself. The thought calmed him, and put him in a better mood to withstand their disparaging comments.

After a few more minutes, the distinct sound of excited women could be heard passing by the door.

Charles spoke up, "Well my lords, I believe that the women have finished tucking my daughter into bed and we may now proceed to the bridal chamber."

A deafening response of "hurrah" resounding throughout the room and then slowly, and unsteadily, the group of men began filing out in the direction of Isabella's room.

The women had left the men behind to fill their cups and had gone ahead to prepare Bella for her wedding night. Only Alice and Angela were aware that Bella had already been "bedded," but they went along with the charade with good humour. Bella, never one to be shy, was not uncomfortable with being stripped of her dressings and powered and groomed by the matrons around her. Neither the nudity nor the attention bothered her, for she was preoccupied with wondering how Edward would react to her current state.

The chamber had been transformed with fresh floor rushes scented with thyme and lavender, and the bed littered with rose petals. The ladies had thought of everything, even including a tray of bread and cheese and a fresh carafe of wine that Bella hoped she would be in need of later. The bishop had earlier blessed the marriage bed. Everything was ready.

The ladies brushed out Bella's long, dark tresses, whilst imparting advice on how best to cope with the "spearing of her maidenhead." Bella shared a covert smirk with Alice when they began but listened as if enraptured.

"Do not object to what he may wish to do, Isabella. Your young lord will have experience in these things, so it's best to have faith in him," an elderly aunt informed her. Bella couldn't trust herself to respond, though she did allow her eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"I don't know about that. My Brian appreciates it when I argue—makes him more amorous," commented a neighbouring lady that Bella did not have fond memories of.

A few more contributed to the discussion and eventually they came to the same conclusion Bella had reached at the very beginning—men had different tastes. She was betting that she knew more about Edward's than any other women in the room.

Biting her tongue, she bore the rest of the women's ministrations and was grateful when they finally led her to her bed. She lay down flat on her back while the ladies carefully arranged her hair upon the pillow and pulled the sheets up to her chin.

"Best to surprise him," her Aunt whispered and then winked. Bella had never wanted to roll her eyes more.

Alice came to her rescue. "Now ladies, I believe it time we leave Isabella alone so that the men may deliver her husband." Her request was met with much clucking from the older women, and giggles from the younger few. Bella huffed as she lay perfectly still, wanting them to hurry up. Alice saw and smiled warmly at her.

"Make him yours," she said, then quickly placed a kiss upon her cheek before drawing the bed curtains closed.

Bella lay completely still, very conscious of her arranged hair, and listened to the retreating females, straining her ears for any sound of the lords. Soon enough, a low rumbling that had always been present became louder and more distinct, and she knew that it was the men. She'd heard the stories of course, of all the things that could go wrong during the bedding revelries. Wine loosens even the most staid tongue, which meant often these events degenerated into arguments and slandering matches. Or there was worse—when one of the male guests would attempt to force himself onto the bride. Bella hoped the presence of the bishop would prevent any such scene, and if not, was certain her father would deal with the offender promptly.

Finally, Bella heard the door wrenched open and the sounds of drunken men filled the room.

"Ah, it is time! Off with that tunic, lad—you won't be needing that!"

"Hurrah!" came the answering call.

Another voice, rougher this time, began to make fun of Edward's countenance. Bella felt wronged on his behalf. How dare these men come into his wedding chamber and offend him—offend her! But she bit her tongue, and waited quietly, not wanting to bring any attention to herself.

"Come now, let us put the lad to bed—surely where he would prefer to be." That voice was her father's, and Bella was eternally grateful for his short patience.

"Ah, Charles, we have but begun to have fun. The lad can take some more, can he not?"

"I would, as Lord Charles supposed, much rather be bedding my wife at this moment." Edward was trying to sound brave, she could tell, but he wasn't fooling anyone. And, as expected, the sign of eagerness set off another round of jabs, this time about his apparent inability to sustain himself in bed.

Isabella was getting more and more frustrated. She didn't like that they were tormenting Edward like this, and not only that, she wanted him in bed already, too! After a few more minutes, she had sorely had enough. She carefully gathered the covers around her chest, crawled to the edge of the bed, and yanked open the curtain to the surprise of every man in the room.

"Gentlemen, please. It is late, and I tire easily. If my husband is to have any pleasure at all this evening, I suggest you let him be and leave us alone."

Her father's face was the one she noticed first. He looked taken aback, but as soon as their eyes met his face showed nothing but pride. All the guests looked like they'd been slapped, and Bella suspected many of them were now remembering the rumours about her behaviour from her earlier years. At last, her eyes found Edward. He looked harassed and... very naked up top. They were clearly still in the process of stripping him. On his face was a look of salvation, and he smiled at her, before looking at her chest and flushing in embarrassment.

"Well, men, you heard the lady. I believe it is time for us to make our departure," Charles added, not hiding the amusement in his voice.

"Thank you, father," Bella responded politely, and they shared another look that almost had Charles openly laughing. He was glad he wasn't losing his Bella after all.

One-by-one, the men all left, most of them grumbling until Charles reminded them there would be tankards of ale awaiting them in the hall. Once again, a loud cheer went up, and with renewed vigour, they hastily left the couple to their own devices.

Edward had watched the last of them retreat and then closed and latched the door, securing their privacy. He turned back and again flushed at the sight of his wife, naked except for the cloth she was holding to maintain her modesty.

She adored that he was so innocent, that he wasn't immediately helping himself to her body now that they were wed. But another part of her couldn't help but wish he was slightly more animalistic—that he would pounce on her at once.

Alice's words came back to her: Make him yours.

"My lord husband," she began seductively. "I trust you are not upset that I sent your party away."

Edward laughed with joy at both her audacity and his reprieve. "My beautiful Isabella, I could not be more pleased with your actions. Although, I do wish they had not the opportunity to see as much of you as they did."

Tentatively, he made his back across the room, stopping before he reached the bed and struck by the dilemma his remaining clothes posed.

"Would my husband like some assistance in removing those?"

Edward gagged with shock. His eyes rushed to meet hers and found her staring at him with a devilish smirk and gleam in her eyes. Did he want her to undress him? He supposed so. Was this something that married couples did? Then he realised she would likely be doing it naked.

"Yes," he said quickly, his voice cracking slightly.

Bella smiled to herself and proceeded to slowly drop the sheets from her body so she could climb out of the bed. She watched him carefully, judging all of his reactions, making sure she wasn't pushing him too far. His eyes were huge—staring at her with blatant lust. She felt a sinful amount of pride for the effect she was having on him, and hurried to make her way to him before he embarrassed himself.

She sauntered up to him, and was ever so amused by the way he swallowed and blanched even further when his eyes drifted low. She didn't pause, stepping straight up to him and placing her hands on the tie of his braises.

"I hope you understood from my letters that I have been looking forward to this?" she asked him suggestively.

"Umm... er... yes. Yes, I did," her stammered, carefully staring at the wall above her shoulder.

"You need not be shy with me now. It is just us here, none other. And we are married now, Edward." His eyes snapped back to hers when she mentioned his name and he smiled.

"I like it when you say my name," he paused, "Isabella."

"Bella," she corrected. "Just Bella." And then she kissed him.

Bella breathed a sigh of relief because it was good. When they had first shared a kiss, Bella had thought it was messy, definitely too unfamiliar for it to be enjoyable. Now, she deduced their first attempt was most probably marred by nerves, for this was pleasant, tender, and... loving? His arms wove around her and he only hesitated for a moment before pulling her naked body closer to him. She gave up on undressing him completely, and just enjoyed the kissing for a while.

Eventually, Edward broke away. "I think I need to remove these now," he said sheepishly. Bella stepped back to allow him space and he made quick work of untying his pants.

"I've been waiting so patiently to have you again," he said, far too timidly. Still, it made Bella's insides bubble with the thought. "Those letters," he continued. "You have no idea what you did to me with your words. I was considering attending a neighbouring church so I could absolve myself without the shame of recommitting the same sin again and again."

Bella giggled out loud at that. "And what sin might that have been?"

He removed his last item of clothing, and stood rather awkwardly, arms by his side, blushing scarlet as he answered. "Self-pleasure."

The thought of Edward doing that to himself made Bella even more aroused. She quickly recalled how he'd looked when he had climaxed inside her, then imagined him looking like that after stroking himself. She hoped the next time he did that, he would let her watch.

With two quick steps she was again in his arms, only this time, they were both naked. He groaned as she ground herself against him, which led to her doing it more so that she could continue to hear him sound like that.

"Isabella—"

"Bella," she corrected him again between kisses.

"Bella... I want you to know that I would never have knowingly disrespected you that night we were together." Internally, Bella groaned, worried that he was going to delay with a sermon. But then he surprised her. "However, I must admit to not being able to feel very repentant when it has brought us together now as man and wife."

She stopped kissing his body and looked up into his eyes.

He continued, "You are possibly the most... impulsive and mischievous woman ever, and I've no doubt your will would rival Eleanor of Aquitaine's. But, you are also intelligent and beguiling, and..." he paused as he ran his hand along her face, "beautiful. I am the luckiest man alive, to have such a woman as my wife."

No man had ever said such things to her. Most thought her will a flaw, and none found her nature beguiling. That Edward didn't seem to mind... it gave her a glimpse into a very happy future together.

"I will be a good wife for you," she vowed.

"I just want you to be you, for that is the woman I love." And with that he took her in his arms, embracing her and kissing the shocked smile on her face.

When he broke away, she couldn't help but laugh—a delighted sound that contained all her girlish hopes that they would be happy together. He joined her, though mostly because he found her unusual reaction amusing.

With glee, she pulled him toward the bed, determined to make this time more enjoyable for them both. She lay down first and was unable to stop grinning at the sight of Edward crawling on top of her. They kissed for a time again, but when he went to guide himself into her entrance, she stopped him.

"Not like this," she panted. He looked confused and even slightly annoyed. "There is something else I want to try," she explained.

"Oh."

It was one of the tawdry things Bella had overheard Sue talking about—a position that was almost guaranteed to help a lady see stars. She eased herself up and pushed Edward back.

"You need to lay down, with your back against the pillows," she instructed, trying to conceal how uncertain she felt.

Edward obeyed her without question and moved so that he was where she had been lying, though sitting up more.

Now for the hard part, Bella thought.

She did as she'd heard Sue say and "straddled" her husband. Edward looked amazed, and Bella hoped she looked seductive, but was quite sure that wasn't the case. She hesitated as she hovered above him, wondering the best way to go about it, and then thinking it would be best for him if he were pushed into her completely, she dropped down suddenly on his erection.

"OW!" Edward yelled as she almost snapped him in half. Several words Bella could never imagine Edward saying in front of her escaped his lips.

"I'm so sorry, Edward! I didn't realise... Oh no, are you hurt? Should I call someone?"

"No! For all that is holy, do not call anyone." He grimaced as he felt himself for damage. "I'm fine, I think. Maybe I just need a moment?"

She ran her hand up and down his arm comfortingly, while he continued to feel himself. She felt awful, but she couldn't help becoming aroused by the sight and pressed herself down on his thigh to help ease her own desire.

"You're so warm," he said, his eyes rolling back a little. Encouraged, Bella continued to press, but she also started to move. Before long, she could feel he had recovered sufficiently and she moved to try again.

"Wait! Let's just... let's just try it like this," Edward suggested. He found her opening and eased himself inside just a bit. "I think you can try now."

Slowly, so as not to hurt him again, Bella lowered herself onto Edward until they were as close as they could get.

"Oh, God," Edward said, then quickly followed with, "forgive me." Bella assumed it was for his blaspheme but wasn't sure. What they were doing felt sinfully good.

She moved around on top of him, trying to find what felt best, and he guided her when she hit a certain position that made them both moan in pleasure. They soon found a rhythm and before long, their movements turned to a frenzied pace, both of them straining to be closer. Bella wasn't sure what was coming over her. She felt wild, but couldn't bring herself to care. Only one thing mattered now, and that was reaching whatever it was she was writhing towards.

And then she reached it.

"Oh, Edward. Oh, Edward. Oh Edward!" she cried, reaching the peak of pleasure and riding it hard. Her whole body shook when the wave swept over her, and she could feel her insides contracting around him. He let out another of those profanities and he arched up, pulling her hips down against him, groaning as he released his seed into her.

He fell back against the pillows, so very satisfied, and Bella felt such wonder that she had made him feel that way. And he had let her! He loved her faults, and was not going to try and rein her in.

Edward's brow was covered in sweat and his chest was heaving from his exertions. Thinking of how she wanted to be a proper wife, she poured him some wine and passed it to him, loving the grateful smile he gave her.

"I love you," she said with perfect honesty, marvelling at how lucky she was. Everything she could ever want in life was before her: a husband who could provide for her, a man she could respect, and a lover who could satisfy her needs. She hadn't lied to her father when she'd said her price was an Earldom, but now... if she had to choose between Edward or an earldom, she would choose him.

She would choose love.

As she snuggled down next to him and shared the wine that he thoughtfully held out for her, she couldn't help but feel smug in the knowledge that she didn't have to choose.

For she had both.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who helped with this story: Sobriquett, PTB, mopstyle, and revrag. To everyone who has enjoyed the journey of medievalward, thanks. And to cosmo9, without whom this wouldn't have been extended - thank you!

Much love,

xxx Frenchie.