~.~

Chapter Three

~.~

For the residents of Plimouth Colony, church services - or Meeting - was an all-day event on Sunday. It lasted from nine in the morning until noon, resuming at two in the afternoon and continuing until five in the evening. The service itself was very informal, presented in the form of a conversation rather than a sermon. A question was posed to the elders of the church and they would all speak on the topic. The only music was the singing of psalms.

Their Meeting house was at the very top of the hill, a two-story wood building, plain and unadorned. On the second floor, six cannon were positioned in the windows to protect the colony from any attacks. At the sound of the drum, the colonists all marched inside, all nine score of them, in an orderly fashion, three rows of men, three rows of women. The heads of household all carried with them their rifles, which they were required to own and to bring to Meetings, in case an enemy saw a chance to attack the entire colony at once.

Edward sat with Emmett, Jasper, and his father on the men's side of the room. Women were seated on the opposite side of the aisle. Mistress Isabella Cullen was seated in the front pew, as her status seemed to dictate. She did not seem to notice the stares pointed in her direction. She sat on the backless bench, her posture erect and perfect, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she listened with apparent interest to each speaker. She did not even surreptitiously fan herself as some ladies did, as the day grew hotter.

Toward the middle of the room were the ladies of the Masen family. Alice was beside Esme, though she seemed determined to ignore her stepmother's very existence, never glancing in her direction, even disdaining the handkerchief Esme offered her when Alice sneezed. Esme blinked hard and tucked it back into the cuff of her sleeve.

Alice coyly glanced in Jasper's direction, but Jasper's attention was on the speaker, as it should be. Jasper listened intently to the conversation, a small frown of concentration tugging at his lips. Carlisle's eyes flicked toward him and he frowned as well, as though he wasn't sure if Jasper was really interested or pretending. Had he asked Edward's opinion, he would have said he thought Alice's intended was sincere. He'd asked many questions about the faith when he and Edward worked together, and if Jasper chose to join the church, Edward thought it would be because Jasper had been convinced their views were truthful, not just because he sought Alice's hand.

Edward's stomach was in knots. He kept glancing at the woman who would be his wife in a few hours and he still couldn't shake that maddening feeling that he should recognize her. She wore a demure black gown, suitable for a Meeting, and her hair was bound up under a crisp linen cap. She wore the "C" brooch again, pinned to the center of her bodice, which he would have to mention to her when he had the chance. Perhaps she didn't know that it was inappropriate to wear jewels to Meeting.

The brooch caught the light, and he saw that vision in his mind again ... Bella turned toward him, wearing a wine-red gown, its low, square neckline edged in large pearls. An elaborate diamond and ruby necklace twinkled on her milk-white skin, and a white lace ruff arched from her shoulders to her neckline.

He blinked, and the vision - if that's what it was - was gone. He didn't understand why he would be picturing her like that. He'd never seen a woman wearing such strange and worldly apparel. Like a queen ... Perhaps it was because he knew she was a relative of a duke that he was imagining her dressed like a courtier.

At the end of the service, Bella stood and made her profession of faith, a few simple lines about believing the Bible's authority as the basis of the church and civil law. Her name was officially inscribed into the church's register and she was now one of the Saints, instead of a Stranger.

Edward's family stayed in their seats after the rest of the congregation left for the noon break. Most of them would go to the tavern for a meal and to socialize between services. The congregation was likely to be shocked when they returned and discovered that Edward was now a married man. Usually, the bans were called for three Sundays before the couple married, enough time that any impediments to the union could be presented. He could only assume that Bella's wealth had purchased special treatment for her.

A table had been set up at the side of the room. Edward followed Carlisle over to it, where Bella stood waiting. He watched as she took a quill pen, dipped it in the ink well, and wrote her name. Bella stepped back and Carlisle picked up the paper to read and then silently handed it to Edward.

He discovered that Bella was a widow, and far wealthier than he could have imagined. She was giving him a dowry of five hundred pounds, which was more than the total value of goods the colony had produced last year and sent back to England to pay their investors. Edward had to read the figure three times before he was able to accept it. She hadn't even included a clause keeping aside her property from her late husband, but he saw no mention of children, so maybe she had no reason to do so. He had never thought about it before, but it struck him suddenly how much trust a woman had to place in a man to surrender to him all of her worldly goods. If her husband was a scoundrel, a woman could lose everything and have utterly no recourse to stop him from spending every last shilling.

He looked over at Bella and made a silent vow that he would do his utmost to be worthy of that trust.

~.~


Bella watched Edward as covertly as she could, holding her breath until he laid down the paper and signed it. To her relief, he didn't look angry. That had been her fear when she'd made her proposal to the governor, but when she had heard that Carlisle was making discrete inquiries as to a wife for his eldest son, she knew she couldn't wait any longer. She didn't want to wait any longer.

The governor signed their contract and sprinkled sand over the paper to dry the ink. And so they were married. There were no vows or rings, no preacher presiding; to the Pilgrims, marriage was strictly a civil institution.

Carlisle sighed and led Alice, Esme, and Jasper from the Meeting House. The governor followed, after wishing them happiness, and closed the door behind himself. Bella and Edward were alone.

Edward cleared his throat. He raked a hand through his hair, a gesture so much like the old Edward that it stung her heart.

"May I – Er ... I feel I should –" He paused and took a deep breath. "Mistress Cullen, why did you want to marry me?"

She bit her lip. "I can't tell you yet. I promise I will, someday ... when you're ready to hear it." A breeze swirled through the room to seal her promise and he felt it, his head jerking to the side to look back at the door, which was still shut. He frowned and turned back to her.

She longed so much to reach out and touch him, to cup that cheek in the palm of her hand, to feel the sweet softness of his lips against hers, to feel their breath mingle as they gasped with pleasure... She hid her hands in the folds of her skirts as her nails dug into her palms.

"You were widowed?"

She had to unclench her jaw to answer. "Yes."

"My sympathies, Mistress. How long ago did you lose your husband?"

She couldn't answer that honestly. "Years, now."

"You seem ... Were you ... fond of him?"

"Very much." She couldn't hide the waver in her voice. "He was a good man."

He tilted his head and eyed her curiously. "Have you any children?"

"I do, but they're grown."

He blinked in surprise. "I thought you were my age. Perhaps even younger. Are you, uh ... able to ... ?"

She smiled. "Yes, I can still have children."

He shook his head. "But you look so ... young."

"I was young when I wed," she said, and it was true. Young for her kind, anyway.

Bella laid her hand over his and she saw a small jerk in his shoulder muscles as though the contact had jolted him. Perhaps it had. "I know that you have no reason to do so, but I hope you will trust me. We will be happy together, Edward. I will be a good wife to you, and a good mother to your children. I ask only that you do not foster them out."

The Pilgrims believed that parental love might make a child spoiled from lack of discipline. It was common to send off children to be apprenticed or educated with another family. Bella could see the hesitation in Edward's eyes. It might be difficult for him to go against the grain in such a small community, so she changed the subject and asked him about his life in Holland.

She discovered Edward had been fostered to a cousin's family when he was a very young boy, before the Masens moved to Holland in 1608, but after that, he had lived with his family. His life sounded different before his mother had died. Though the discipline of their community was strict, it was not without love or happiness. He described delicious meals and laughter around the family table, and warm evenings in the parlor as his mother or father read to them, and the children piled in the chair with the other parent. But after their mother had died in late July, Carlisle had changed. Bella could tell Edward did not want to speak badly of him, but the joy had gone out of their lives. Carlisle was distant and cold, and he couldn't even stand to look at baby Emmett.

Every time Edward asked Bella a question, she deftly turned the conversation back to him, his life, his family. She knew he was not yet ready to hear about her lonely wanderings while she searched for him.

They chatted until the townsfolk began to filter back into the Meeting House and take their seats. To Bella's surprise, Alice sat down beside her. She leaned close to Bella and lowered her head so that her face was hidden behind the brim of her cap. "Pray, pardon my familiarity, Mistress, but I wished to speak with you."

Bella wanted to pull Alice into a hug. She'd missed her so much. It didn't always happen that family members lingered until they could all be reborn together. That Bella had so many of her loved ones around her was a special blessing. She took Alice's hand into her own. "We are sisters now," she said simply. Alice cast her a quick, startled look, apparently not expecting to be so warmly accepted.

"I wanted to ask ... That is, I'd hoped you ..." Alice looked uncertain for a moment. "I would like to come and live with you. With you and Edward ... When you're ready. I'll help you around the house, help you look after your children ... anything you need."

"Of course you may come to stay with us, Alice," Bella said. "But you needn't consider yourself a servant. You are family, and you're welcome at any time."

"I'll earn my keep," Alice insisted. "And after Jasper and I marry …"

"You will still be welcome," Bella said.

Tears welled in Alice's eyes. "Thank you, Mistress," she whispered.

Bella shook her head. "Sister," she corrected.

~.~


As they walked home that evening, Edward was very nervous. He had grown up in a strictly religious home and Carlisle considered fornication just as great a sin for men as it was for women. As a result, he had no experience with women and he wasn't sure what Bella would expect from him.

He had expected that when he married, it would be to a fellow virgin who wouldn't know if he was bad at it, but Bella had been married before, and from the terrible sadness in her eyes when she spoke of her husband, she had loved him deeply. Edward was surprised at the spark of jealousy he felt when he thought of this unknown man who had meant so much to Bella.

They went home with Carlisle and Esme for a wedding supper. It wasn't much, especially since no work could be done on Sunday, and the meal was left over from what had been prepared the night before. Cold boiled lobster (which was so plentiful and cheap that it was considered servant-class food), pease porridge, kept hot over the fireplace to preserve it, and a loaf of yesterday's bread. Edward noticed that Bella didn't touch any of the lobster meat.

The meal was a silent one, as it always was at his father's table since his wife had passed. Edward couldn't look toward his bride. Every time he did, he felt like blushing. What if he wasn't able to please her? He knew that a woman had to come to pleasure in order to conceive. He had no idea what to do other than the actual mechanics of the act. Farm life, and the lack of privacy for people of their class, had taught him that much, at least. And he had heard the whispered stories of snickering boys, much of which he dismissed as myth or exaggeration. But the rest of it was all a mystery.

Edward had expected his father would explain everything last night. But he said nothing. And Edward wasn't about to ask Esme. She would have experience from her prior union, but Edward had never seen Carlisle so much as touch Esme's hand. He eyed Jasper speculatively, but how does one broach such a subject? "Pray pardon me, Jasper, but were you once a fornicator?"

After they finished eating, his father read from the Bible. "But from the beginning of the creation God made them male and female. For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife; And they twain shall be one flesh: so then they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder."

"Amen," Esme said softly. Her eyes were on her own husband, full of hope, but he did not glance in her direction.

Edward picked up the bundle of his belongings from the foot of his bed. It was small, containing only his spare breeches, two shirts, his plain, brown everyday work doublet, and his nightcap. He didn't own anything else.

At the door, Esme kissed Bella and placed a small gift into her hand, a little sewing basket with a collection of carved bone buttons, homespun linen thread, and two precious metal needles. It was a valuable gift and Edward was pleased to see that his new wife warmly thanked Esme and embraced her in return. It was a good sign.

As they departed, he saw baby Emmett wave his arms and call "Eh!" after him, shushed quickly by Esme before Emmett could annoy his father. Edward went back to kiss the top of his brother's head, and hope he would be all right.

When he and Bella reached the house, Edward was surprised to see her remove a key suspended on a ribbon in her pocket to unlock the door. As far as he knew, no other house in Plimouth Colony had a door that locked. When she opened the door, he saw why.

Bella's home was beautiful. Her walls were hung with woven, colorful tapestries and paintings of men and women he assumed were relatives. Her furniture was the fine English woodworking one would see in a noble's home, dark mahogany carved and scrolled. The floor seemed pillowy beneath his shoes and he looked down to see thick carpets. He instinctively retreated off the edge and she smiled, gesturing him back. He scuffed his shoes against the little rug in front of the door before he did. The sideboard held a bounty of fine plate. He marveled at how much it must have cost to transport all of these goods.

"Do you like it?" she asked shyly.

"I've never seen anything like it," he said. "Not in Plimouth, anyway." He turned around in a slow circle, feasting his eyes. "It was a hard life in Holland. The locals called our street Stink Alley. Sometimes, the boys used to run up the streets to the wealthier houses. Nothing so grand as this, but where we lived, they seemed like mansions ... We'd run up to those houses and peek through the windows until the servants came to chase us away. I always wondered what it would be like to live in a place like that, and now I find I'm afraid to touch anything."

"You can touch anything you like," Bella said softly. "All of it is yours now. All that you see." She stepped forward and Edward wondered if she was including herself in that statement. He felt his face burn and turned away. His gaze landed on a shelf full of books. His mouth dropped open and he stared.

Taller than he was and as wide as he could reach, the shelves were full from top to bottom. Some of them had tags hanging down with labels, and some had handwritten lettering on the edges of the pages to identify what they were.

"Bella, this is ..."

She stepped closer and laid her finger on one of the books, caressing it as though it were a child's cheek. "I know your - our - faith does not agree with some of these books, but I hope you will ... not have issue with my ownership of them. Many were gifts from dear friends. If you want, I will hide away the ones that are ... objectionable, but it is my wish to keep them."

"I understand," he said, and still felt dazed. "I had no idea ... I did not know there were so many different books in the world."

"Oh, aye," she said. "Do you like to read?"

"I have only read the Bible," he said. "It's the only book my father owns. I would like to ... if you do not mind ..."

"I don't. Read whatever you like."

Edward gently dislodged a book from its place. On the leather cover was a crest, a lion rampant over a trefoil chevron, a ducal coronet at the top. He would later find the same crest on the cover of every book. He opened it to look at the front page and saw an elaborate signature, "Elizabeth R" with a series of curling lines below it. "Who was she?"

"She was my husband's cousin, and dear friend."

"You seem tense."

She released a deep breath. "It is only because I do not wish to cause difficulty within the community for having these."

He considered. "Perhaps we should move the shelf upstairs to our private ... area. If no one sees them, then no one can object."

That made her smile. He put the book back on the shelf. Looking at the shelf, he felt a strange sense of standing on a precipice. This shelf represented stepping out into a world he had never known existed, thoughts and ideas he'd never dreamt of. He understood why his community wanted to leave Holland, because the children were being exposed to different ideas and some were coming to accept them. In this place, theirs could be the only language, culture, and faith. Knowledge there were other possibilities could be dangerous. It led people to choices, and some of their subsequent decisions might not be in line with what the community taught.

What if his faith was not strong enough to withstand exposure to other beliefs?

What if this was the kind of temptation to sin his father had warned him about?

Edward did not know, but he was eager to find out.

~.~


Night fell and Bella went around one by one and extinguished the candles. She untied the curtains and covered the windows to keep out the dangerous vapours in the night air. There was no glass in the windows; at night, the shutters were closed, but during the day, they stood open to let in the breeze.

Bella smiled and took Edward's hand and led him up the narrow, ladder-like stairs. He carried his small bundle of belongings in the other hand. There was a pair of doors on a small landing at the top, two separate bedrooms, and an attic above. Edward was impressed. She opened the one on the left. Edward could only gape.

There was a huge, four-post bed with an embroidered canopy that took up most of the room. Crammed into a corner was a clothespress with a trunk on the floor beside it, and yet another of those fancy, colorful rugs covered the floor. All of his life, Edward's bare feet had landed on cold floorboards when he woke; he would thank God every morning for the luxury of this rug. A pewter chamber pot was tucked beneath the bed. Pewter! He shook his head.

A circular looking-glass hung on the wall, the first one Edward had ever seen. Some families had small, polished metal hand mirrors, though Carlisle had pronounced such things luxurious vanities.

Edward went over to stare into it. His hand touched his cheek and he shook his head in wonderment. He had never seen his own reflection so plainly as this. He turned to look at his new wife, realizing dimly that she was far richer than the five hundred pounds she had given him as a dowry. The responsibility of caring for such a fortune ... For a moment, it was overwhelming and he didn't think he would be equal to the task. But then he reflected his wife was used to managing it and surely she could assist him. Women in their community could own their own property, but the idea his wife might be his equal, his partner, was a new one for him, though he was grateful for it, all the same.

He couldn't hide his shock as she unfastened the bodice of her dress and drew it off, and untied her skirt's waistband to slip it over her hips, but he couldn't force himself to look away, either. She walked over to the clothes press as she folded the gown. Beneath it, she had worn a garment that fit tightly around her abdomen, which laced in the front and fell down over her hips. She unlaced it and sighed, now only in her petticoats and shift. He averted his eyes quickly and began to awkwardly remove his clothes, shoving his breeches down over his hips. He left on his shirt, which came down to mid-thigh.

Bella unbound her hair, shaking it down from its bun and he had another strange vision, himself brushing that dark, satin river of hair. He frowned slightly, because it seemed such a bizarre desire, but he could not deny, he ached to touch it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. After she finished brushing it, she pulled it over her shoulder and deftly bound it into a braid, tied with a ribbon at the end. She tied a nightcap on her head, and it reminded Edward he needed to find his own. He rummaged around in his bag until he located it and slipped it on. It was dangerous to sleep with a bare head, after all.

She started to get into the bed, but he reminded her, "Prayers."

"Oh."

Edward knelt down beside the bed and she knelt beside him in her white shift. He held up his hands and began to pray aloud, though he had to admit it was a rote, thoughtless prayer simply thanking the Almighty for all of His blessings instead of a true prayer from his heart, exactly the kind of prayer his sect decried. But right now, he couldn't concentrate on anything. Bella bowed her head and copied his posture, waiting until he'd finished to chime in an "Amen," that sounded just as rote as his prayer. Was she unsettled, too?

Bella sat down on the edge of the bed, sinking into the feather mattress. She patted a spot beside herself and he tried to be nonchalant as he went to sit beside her, but he could feel heat suffuse his cheeks.

She seemed to understand his nervousness. "Will you just hold me?" she asked. "My husband used to ..."

"I will," he agreed.

He kept his eyes on the floor until Bella was safely under the covers, though he caught a flash of a shapely ankle and gulped. He lay down beside her and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Little more than a day ago, he had been grateful his father had not spoken of marriage to him and now, here he was, in bed with his new wife.

She rolled over and snuggled up against his side, laying her head on his shoulder. His breath hitched and he froze, unused to the feeling. Her body was soft, and warm against his own. So soft ... And she smelled so good, clean and crisp, like the breeze off the ocean. She laid her leg over his and he held his breath. She was very close to coming in contact with the physical reaction he could neither control nor conceal.

The church elders always suggested prayer when the desires of the flesh reared their ugly head, but he could not think of a single thing to say to the Lord at the moment, could not decide if wanted to pray she would stop, or pray she would continue.

He put an arm around her. That seemed safe enough, but he found his hand landed high on her rib cage next to her breast. He hurriedly moved it down to her hip, and then - alarmed - back upward a bit to her stomach. He felt her shake, and he had the suspicion she was laughing at him, but he could barely keep from laughing himself at the absurdity of being in bed with his wife the first time and being afraid to touch her.

"I thank you," she said, her soft voice sweet in the darkness. "I missed this."

He didn't know how to reply to that. She hadn't married him for this, had she? Simply because she was lonely, or wanted a man in her bed? But that made little sense. There were more handsome men, men of property, men of standing in this community. Why would she choose him, of the dozens of single men in the colony?

It was the thought that kept him awake long after her breathing had softened in sleep. As he drifted off, he thought he heard her whisper his name.

~.~


That night, he dreamt of swimming with Bella. Edward had never swam before, but somehow, he knew how it would feel, his limbs slicing through the cool water, and then the feeling of Bella's warm hands and mouth on his body ...

He woke with a start and found himself alone in the bed. He heard female voices, Bella and Alice. He shrugged into his clothing and went down the stairs. Bella stood by the fireplace, stirring something in a pot. She wore a pink velvet gown with a gray satin embroidered bodice which came down to a sharp point in front. The pink overskirts extended from it, open to reveal a petticoat beneath that matched her bodice. She wore the oval brooch again and he found that he rather disliked it. The letter "C" on the front of it made him think of her first husband.

Her clothing was a bit too fashionable and frivolous to be worn here in the colonies, but it would be equally frivolous to make her a new, plainer wardrobe when she already had serviceable garments.

Alice was seated at the table and had a bundle of clothing on the floor beside her. Emmett sat on her lap. He squealed when he saw Edward and imperiously thrust out his arms to be lifted. Edward chuckled and complied.

"Your sister and brother will stay with us now," Bella declared, and was seemed surprisingly pleased by that fact.

Edward blinked. He had already half-expected Alice, considering how much she disliked Esme, but not Emmett. After all, Emmett was why Carlisle had married Esme in the first place. He thought it unlikely his father would want Edward to foster his brother, especially since Edward was always more affectionate with the boy than Carlisle was. But this would give Carlisle some relief, not having to see the boy and be reminded of his beloved wife every moment.

And perhaps, it would give Carlisle and his new wife time and privacy to come to know one another. Maybe a rapport could grow between them as Esme so desperately wanted.

"We'll build onto the house," Bella suggested.

Edward hesitated. "Perhaps later," he said. There were families who didn't have a home completely built yet and it seemed wrong to take labor to expand his own.

Bella was full of plans. She thought Alice and Jasper could live in the attic after they married, until a more suitable dwelling was built for them, by either adding on to this house or building their own. She seemed to prefer the former. Edward broke his fast with bread and beer while watching his new wife talk with his sister. The two already seemed like best friends and Emmett, who was usually shy around strangers, openly adored Bella. He babbled to her and bizarrely, she seemed to understand what he was saying. She refilled his cup of small beer and he gulped at it thirstily. She ruffled his curls affectionately and he gave her a grin that revealed his few teeth.

"I'm going out to examine our holdings," Edward said to Bella, "before I go to help Father."

"Aye, do that." And to his surprise, she kissed his cheek. "Be safe, sweetheart."

Startled, Edward said he would and crammed his hat onto his head as he went out the door. How odd, he thought, as he headed toward her land, situated right outside the boundaries of the village. But perhaps she was affectionate with everyone.

Bella's land was still mostly wooded. Part of it had been cleared by the Natives years ago, before the plague swept through, but those fields were now overgrown and untended. Brush was beginning to overtake them. There was no planting that could be done at this time of year, but after he finished helping his father build, he would start work on clearing Bella's land for next spring's plowing. The tract was vast, and ran far more inland than he had ever explored, bordered by a river he had never heard of. He would simply have to concentrate on the land here, that he could farm himself, until later when they could hire more help.

He followed the path along the creek to his father's claim and found Carlisle already at work, chopping. He paused to greet Edward. "Good morn to you," he said.

"Good morn, Father."

His father seemed to search for words. "How do you like your new wife?"

Edward blushed a little. "I like her well, Father."

His father nodded. "Good. Good."

"Do you intend for us to keep Emmett?" Edward asked.

His father lifted his hat to scratch his head. "Your sister wishes to take him," he said finally. "If he does not trouble you ..." He seemed on the verge of saying something else, but he turned back to the tree he was cutting and began to swing his axe again.

Edward walked back toward the half-built house and picked up his axe and mallet. Esme stepped out of the cabin as he passed. "Good morn, son," she said.

He smiled at her. "And to you, Mother." She brightened, as she always did when he spoke kindly to her.

"I have something for you to take home to your new bride," she said. "I baked some bread and set aside a crock of preserves."

"My thanks to you," he said. "Bella likes berries."

The thought almost made him drop the axe. How did he know that?

Disquieted, he forced his mind to his work.

~.~


Notes:

- I'm not certain, but I believe they wouldn't have performed a marriage on a Sunday. That was civil. They likely would have considered it "work" on a Sunday. They did, however, call the bans (announcing the intended marriage, giving anyone who had a prior claim time to object) three Sundays in the Meeting. The Dutch, from whom they copied the notion of civil marriage, posted the bans in the marketplace.

- Common belief was that a woman had to orgasm in order to get pregnant. While this belief probably made for happier marriages, it led to the terrible belief that a woman who became pregnant from rape must have consented and enjoyed the act. Some traces of this belief linger to this day.

- Privacy for the common class of the day was almost nil. Families all slept in one room, and the only privacy they had would have been for those able to afford a bed with curtains. Parents likely waited until the children had gone to sleep in order to quietly enjoy conjugal relations. And, remember, the wealthy had servants who slept in their room. The idea of a husband and wife needing a room only for themselves emerged more toward the Victorian era.

- Small beer was a low-alcohol beer, unfiltered, often made from re-brewing the ingredients used to make regular beer. It was a cheap beverage generally given to children and servants. The alcohol content was high enough to kill bacteria in the water (especially given it was boiled during the brewing process) but not high enough to intoxicate unless you drank a LOT of it. A chemist in the Victorian era, William Thomas Brande, estimated the alcohol content to be about one percent.

- Books were commonly shelved with the spines facing inward at the time. Until the late seventeenth/early eighteenth century or so, there was no information printed on the spine of books. Like Bella's crest on the cover, books were often created and bound just for the person who ordered them, so their name, initials, or family crest would be put on the cover, and the book would be identified with a tag, or someone might scribble the name of the book on the edges of the pages. Books were often chained to the shelf in libraries, so putting them spine-inward on the shelf made sense, because that's the part of the book to which the chain would be attached.