Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the lovely messages and well wishes you left me. It's good to be back here and post again. Although quite some time has passed, but...Happy Thanksgiving!
Here is the new chapter. Hope you like it.
CHAPTER 6 : CONFRONTATION
"How was your day," Edward bent slightly towards the small frame of his betrothed, "My Lady?" He murmured softly.
Isabella blushed furiously, her cheeks adorned in the same hue of crimson as the lovely roses she held in her hands. She stared in the emerald green eyes of her future husband and felt a shiver of pleasure run down her spine.
He stared at her so intently, so hungrily as if he had not seen her in years, as if she would disappear if he so much as blinked.
"I am w..well, Edward." She stammered, her blush deepening when she felt his gloved hand brush gently against her own.
"These flowers are so lovely. Thank you." Isabella said, smiling shyly.
"They are nothing compared to you, Bella." The Duke said in a husky voice, enjoying the crimson suffusing her soft, ivory cheeks.
They looked so delectable; like scarlet petals of a rose floating on milk. He had to quell his desire to touch her cheeks to find for himself if they were as soft as they looked. It won't do to further jeopardise his betrothed's reputation in any way. Besides, the words of his cousin still unsettled him...almost as if there was an invisible weight on his chest.
But, how could he have lost her? He had nary a chance had he tried to court her properly, it would have been too late for that despicable Jacob Black had the advantage of being aquainted with her since a long time. Had he waited, he would have surely lost her to him in matrimony and Edward could not have allowed that. After losing so much since childhood, he was unwilling to lose this ray of sunshine, this beacon of hope that was his Isabella.
His beauty; his soon-to-be bride.
A gruffly cleared throat broke his abstraction and he watched as his betrothed nearly jumped to put a respectable distance between them, her cheeks flaming more furiously if it were even possible. Almost as if tied with an invisible rope, he unconsciously took a step towards her to lessen the distance between them and glared at the person who had dared to interrupt them.
"Fancy seeing you here, Cousin!" Lord Emmet, the Viscount Aberly said enthusiastically, his eyes dancing with wicked amusement.
"What are you doing here, Emmet?" The Duke frowned, glowering at him suspiciously.
"Why our family was invited by Her Grace and your lovely Isabella," The Viscount turned towards the young lady who had captured his cousin's heart and whispered conspiratorially, "Now, Bella, I am bound by the family honour to disabuse you of the notion that anyone of the Cullen family is a rude buffoon like Edward here. Heaven knows where he learned his manners."
Isabella smiled timidly, unsure as to how to respond to such ribbing of the formidable Duke, who was at the moment scowling ferociously at the familiar way his cousin had addressed his betrothed. After all, Emmet had shown considerable interest in the lady in question just a few days ago.
"Come now, Cousin. We are soon going to be family." Lord Emmet remarked, enjoying irking the Duke and astutely understanding the reason for it.
Of course, the Viscount prayed for the happiness of Edward, who for all intents and purposes was his brother. And seeing the way his cousin had changed these past few days, owing to one Miss Isabella Swan, the young lady had his eternal gratitude. No matter the circumstances surrounding their betrothal and impending wedding, Lord Emmet considered Isabella no different than his own sister, Lady Alice, but the Duke didn't know that.
And apparently, the Viscount was not above having some entertainment at the expense of his cousin.
What fun it was to make the cold and ruthless Duke of Alsworth squirm!
So, Lord Emmet went up to Isabella and bowed courteously.
"My Lady, please allow me the incomparable honour of escorting you to the dining room." He requested earnestly, offering his arm.
With a soft 'Thank you' and a shy glance at her betrothed, Isabella placed her hand in the crook of the Viscount's proffered arm and allowed him to lead her.
Behind them, hiding his ire beneath a veneer of cold impassivity, came the Duke of Alsworth. He could not believe the audacity of his cousin to unsurp his right to escort his betrothed and then to flirt with her so blatantly and in front of him. It was too much!
However, his angry musings were interrupted by the cheerful voice of his other cousin, Lady Alice Cullen.
"There you are, Edward. We were waiting for you." She beamed at him.
"When did you arrive, Alice?" Edward enquired, surprised to see her.
"This afternoon. After receiving Mother's missive regarding your betrothal, I could not stop myself from coming here and meeting for myself this paragon of virtues that she so praised" Alice then turned and smiled brilliantly at Isabella, "And I must say, I was not in the least disappointed. She deserves all those praises and so much more. I am so happy for you, cousin. You could not have found a more suitable bride even if you had tried," She lowered her voice so only Edward heard.
"Here she all but landed in your lap." Alice whispered, giving him a disapproving look and it was clear that she knew of the Duke's machinations for getting Isabella.
Lady Alice had been away, paying visit to one of her dear friends Miss Charlotte Dunsey, when she had received the missive from her mother, Lady Esme. Being that she was only fifteen summers old and was yet to be presented before the Queen, she had chosen to stay away this London Season and spend time with her childhood friend Charlotte, who had recently lost her father, and thus required comfort. When her mother had written to her, informing her of one Miss Isabella Swan who had done the impossible task of touching Edward's heart, Alice had been skeptical. Lady Esme had kept her informed of the changes in her favourite cousin, all but singing ballads to praise the young lady, which had undoubtedly evoked her keen interest.
However, it was only when Lady Esme's recent missive detailing the events of the ball, the impromptu betrothal and suspicions pertaining to the schemes of the Duke for deliberately compromising Miss Isabella had arrived, that she took her leave from her friend and started for London. Living in the same house with Edward, who was her brother in every way, she was well aware of his obstinacy. Owing to the scars of his horrendous childhood, he had always been tenacious, ensuring he got all that he desired at any cost. So, though it was hard for Lady Alice to believe that he actually held tender for a woman given his perpetually cold disposition and firm belief that he was incapable of feeling affection as much as he was undeserving of it, she could actually believe that if the said Lady had actually caught his fancy, he would have no compunction whatsoever in coveting her in any way he could.
Given the fickle nature, viciousness and greed of all the young ladies of the ton who flocked around Edward, Lady Alice had been worried if her cousin was done in by the arts and allurement of some mercenary despite her mother's assurance to the contrary. Hence, the reason she had been quite eager to make aquaintance with Miss Swan.
And she could not have been more relieved to find her suspicions unfounded. Despite not having known Miss Swan for more than an hour, she could see the young lady who was only three summers older than her, to be deserving of the paean her entire family had been singing for her. Apparently, the Duke was not the only one who had thoroughly researched Miss Swan's background and reputation and found her to be a decent young lady.
With her worries thus rested, Lady Alice now concentrated on her disapprobation and anger with her cousin for compromising a young lady. Although she was not out in the society, Alice was well aware that the burden of shame was always borne by the woman involved in such incidents. Thus, her heart went out for Isabella.
With an icy glare at her, Edward turned away from her and sought a seat beside his betrothed.
Aware and very much ignoring the brewing storm behind the calm façade of his younger cousin, the Duke of Alsworth concentrated on his soon-to-be wife.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" He queried.
"I think I shall not even think of purchasing anything ever again. I am scarred for life." Isabella huffed, her nose flaring.
"That bad? I was under the impression that there is nothing more enjoyable for the women than to spend the day indulging their whims of fashion, lace and fripperies?" Edward chuckled, observing the annoyance on his betrothed's face.
"Unlike the fashionable ladies of the ton, I cannot bring myself to appreciate such frivolity beyond a certain limit. I have lost count of the number of shops we visited today. We nearly raided the entirety of London!"
Despite the quietness of her voice, her exclamation was heard by Lady Esme who had been paying attention to the affianced couple.
"Yet despite her great vexation, she persevered. Besides, now that she is going to be a part of our family, I have plenty of time to corrupt her." The Countess said, smirking smugly.
"We sure shall, Mother...And it is very good that Bella is so patient and agreeable." Lady Alice interjected innocently.
"That's right, Alice. She must have the patience of the Saint to deal with our headstrong Cousin." Lord Emmet boomed.
"That is enough. You must not embarrass Edward." Lord Carlisle rebuked his children.
Edward ignored the ribbing and asked the question he was most curious about.
"Did you commission your wedding gown?" He asked to which Isabella shyly nodded.
"When are you to receive it?"
"The evening, day after tomorrow. Lady Esme demanded that they have it ready at the earliest at your behest." She whispered, blushing a soft red.
"Yes, I did. The earlier the wedding is, the sooner we can stop the gossip." Edward said grimly, to which Isabella paled.
The betrothed couple quietly discussed their wedding date whilst partaking in dinner at the end of which the Duke made an announcement.
Edward Cullen, the Duke of Alsworth was to wed Miss Isabella Swan on Friday that was two days forth.
It was only after the betrothed couple was heartily congratulated, that they retired to the living room where Lady Alice promptly led Isabella to the pianoforte. Before he could accompany them, the Viscount escorted the ladies and offered to turn the pages for them, thus once again thwarting the Duke's endeavours.
Frustrated with his cousin, Edward sat on a chaise, much away from Lord Carlisle. It was only out of respect for his host that the Duke had treated his Uncle with a cold politeness and now he was unwilling to uphold the charade any further.
"Did you enjoy your evening, Your Grace?" Lady Rosalie asked as she sat opposite him.
"Very much so. Thank you so much for your hospitality, My Lady." Edward murmured, bowing his head.
After exchanging pleasantries, they lapsed in silence listening to the performance of the young ladies, until the Duchess spoke again.
"I have raised Isabella as my own child for our mother was always...occupied," She said suddenly, staring coldly at the Duke, "So, I hope you can understand that for me her happiness holds utmost importance and I am sure it will be so for you too."
Edward nodded, torn between amusement and appreciation. Owing to his reputation, he had always had people bowing and scraping before him, yet here was a woman trying to intimidate him.
"Good. It shall indeed be best for you to always keep my sister happy...to always endeavour to not allow her to shed a single tear." Lady Rosalie drawled, her eyes steely.
"Oh, and one more thing. Keep my sister away from Mrs. Renee Swan. Heaven knows she had had enough of that woman." With that final warning, the Duchess left him to his thoughts.
Lady Rosalie Elizabeth Barrington neé Swan had indeed done the unthinkable task of trying to threaten Edward Cullen, the formidable Duke of Alsworth.
The next morning dawned for the residents of the Barringtons townhouse with a heated argument, which was not surprising considering the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Swan.
"...can you imagine what the ton would say? And to leave your own Mother in such filth-" Mrs Reneé Swan was ranting angrily.
"For the last time, woman, I told you. You are no longer welcome in any house of mine till I am alive. I will not allow you to pollute my household with your venomous presence." Lady Rosalie snarled.
"You, ungrateful chit! After all I did for you, this is how I am being repaid for all my pains!"
Isabella buried her head in her hands, feeling a headache building. Unbeknownst to her, the previous night, Mr. and Mrs. Swan had tried to gain entrance in the Barrington house and had been promptly turned away. Ever since she had gotten married to Royce, Rosalie had refused to allow their mother from entering any of the properties of the Barringtons. However, now since Royce was dead and Isabella was getting married and thus (according to Mrs. Swan) required loving guidance of her Mother, Reneé had not thought much of it.
Apparently, Mrs. Swan was nothing if not tenacious.
On being denied entrance, Mr. and Mrs. Swan had endeavoured to secure a room in any inn around London, which proved to be quite a daunting task owing to the on-going season. Finally, after hours of search, they had found room in an Inn on the outskirts of London, which apparently was neither in accordance with the taste of Mrs. Swan nor befitting for her station.
Needless to say, it quite irked the elderly matron.
"You, shameless bint! Of course, Isabella will require her mother's guidance. That girl has always been too involved in scholarly pursuits to learn about the management of a household. If I left her, the Duke is sure to abandon her and seek a more suitable wife! She will need me to run her house and..." Mrs. Swan continued in her anger, unmindful of the effects her words were having on her youngest daughter.
Isabella had always passively resisted her mother's more atrocious and unreasonable demands like flaunting a daring neckline that showed a distasteful amount of cleavage. As she grew up, she always avoided Mrs. Swan, finding solace in her books and library where her mother seldom set foot. Mrs. Swan had never believed in corporeal punishment. Bruises, lacerations on the bodies of Rosalie and Isabella will not only be seen and gossiped amongst the servants, but also any resulting scars may mar their beauty (Not that Isabella had much, as thought by Mrs. Swan!)
So, any wrongdoing was always punished with denying them food and confiscation of favourite objects, dresses etc. Thus, from an early age, Isabella had learned to avoid her mother and took to disappearing in the Library whilst always holding onto the hope that perhaps her mother was not so bad.
That she only sought to see her daughters married as she had failed to bear a son...an heir.
That perhaps it was her worry for her two daughters that made her so forceful or even demand such things as flirtation or allowing advances to the sons of some wealthy men of the peerage, despite the severe repercussions that they may face if such attempts failed or went awry.
Rosalie had always told Isabella that she was too innocent, too intent on believing good in people, even in those who were undeserving.
Rosalie had always insisted that their mother was nothing but a money and power hungry harridan who was even capable of selling her own daughters for elevating her social status.
Yet, Isabella had always rebuked her sister for harbouring such uncharitable thoughts for their mother.
She had always held onto the childish hope of receiving love and warmth from her mother.
Oh how very wrong she was proved to be!
The condition of Rosalie after her marriage to Royce Barrington had horrified Isabella and finally opened her eyes to the lies and dubious character of Mrs. Reneé Swan. Over time, she came to see her mother's manipulation and became the staunchest supporter of Rosalie. However, it was today that she completely lost her hope that their mother had ever felt even the slightest of love for her daughters.
It was now as she heard Mrs. Reneé Swan badmouth both her and her elder sister whilst stressing as to how important it was that she be allowed to manage the Duke of Alsworth's household after the marriage, that she truly saw the true face of her mother.
The face that she hid behind a mask of civility, calculated care and love...the mask of being a perfect Mother and a loving wife when she was neither.
In that moment Isabella truly saw her mother for the manipulating, greedy and vicious social climbing woman she was who had no moral compass.
"ENOUGH!" A steely voice broke the argument as both Reneé and Rosalie turned towards a stone-faced Isabella.
"You do not love us in the slightest, do you? You never did! It was just the money...money and power. I was the one who was daft, who always believed that there must be something, anything that you must feel for us. How can a Mother be so cruel, so unfeeling, so deviously selfish?" Isabella said in a quiet voice, yet it reverberated in the cavernous room.
Mrs. Swan spluttered incoherently, her eyes widening in shock at the vitriol spewing from her usually quiet daughter whom she had taken to be as lacking in backbone as her father.
"You, Mrs. Reneé Swan, are no Mother of mine, nor will you ever be. Your insatiable greed and selfish disregard for other's feelings repulse me and if I never see you it will be too soon," She took a deep breath and turned towards her father who like always stood in a corner as a mute spectator and could not bring herself to even feel pity.
If only her father had a stronger character...If only he could have ensured his children's happiness...If only he had stood up for himself and them...If only...
"I always loved you, Father, and I know you did too, yet it was never enough. Out of your love for Moth...nay, Mrs. Swan, you let her play with us like a Master Puppeteer and destroy Rosalie's life. They say love is blind, but after eight and ten years of living with you, I can say that it is deaf, dumb and mute too." Isabella whispered and then sat down and closed her eyes, too numb to feel anything.
The cacophony of voices around her blurred together and faded leaving her trapped in her own mind...aware only of her anguish.
It was only when she felt her sister engulf her lovingly in her arms like she had always done, that she cried.
Isabella wept for the loss of a Mother that she never had...The loss of her innocence and childhood.
* Missive- Letter
I struggled to write this chapter, especially Isabella's feelings on her Mother. I hope it is satisfactorily written. More about her 'passive resistance' and the relationship with Reneé will be clear in the next chapter. Please let me know your thoughts.
Reviews?