Warning: This story takes place in a time when women had no control over anything including their own bodies. They could not own property, vote, or serve in office. Most importantly to this story, legally there was no such thing as marital rape. Being married implied consent. This story touches on this dubious consent. Although today it is, rightly, considered rape, in that time it was not. The law was not changed in Canada until just after the Charter of Rights and Freedoms (1982) was enacted, in 1983. Please do not read this story if it will in any way make you uncomfortable or trigger a reaction.

Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

beachcomberlc edited this for me, any mistakes included are a result of me playing with after she finished correcting it.

My disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I do own a vivid memory of how cold the prairies can really get. The coldest temperature ever recorded in Winnipeg was −47.8 °C (−54 °F), on 24 December 1879 and the coldest since then was −45 °C (−49 °F) on 18 February 1966.* (wikipedia) I wasn't alive for either of those dates but I froze my ass off just the same.

Chapter 6

Mr. Jasper Cullen.

Jasper.

I am Mrs. Jasper Cullen.

The names kept running through Isabella's mind as she lay in her bed. Jasper. She had had no idea. She had married him eight months ago and never knew his name to be Jasper. Although it was likely that the minister had said it during the ceremony, she hadn't heard or remembered it. That day had been such a blur there was very little she did remember.

How very odd. That he shared such information with her was also very odd. Perhaps this was what he meant when he asked if they could try at a normal marriage. She recalled that her aunt spoke to her uncle using his first name, when it was only family around them. Her aunt had called him Phillip. She had once overheard her aunt call him Phil while in a fit of giggles. However, Isabella had only ever called her uncle Ship's Master Dwyer, or Sir. She had been instructed to call every adult male Sir. Isabella wasn't sure if she could use the name Jasper when speaking to her husband. It seemed wrong in some way she could not explain.

After the fiasco of the day before when she had behaved so egregiously, he had given her a small piece of himself. He had given her his name. He had spoken kindly to her and told her a little about his childhood. She was so very confused and that confusion troubled her sleep. When she had repaired to bed she had expected him to visit her to resume their marital congress. This was the time of the month where usually he would visit nightly. He had not been to her bed in several days, not since the night before his tantrum.

Not that she looked forward to his visits. His visits were a reminder of her duty to him in providing him with an heir. She had failed in that duty thus far. That thought weighed heavily on her heart. She was a failure at being a wife.

Jasper listened to Isabella's quiet sobs. He knew it was entirely his fault. It was not the first time he had heard her cry herself to sleep. The sound of it hadn't bothered him much before but this night every cry was a dagger to his heart. He very quietly left his bed and walked to his study. He picked up the letter he had written to his cousin and reread it. Tomorrow he would post it and wait for his cousin's reply. He would also see about an appointment with his solicitor to review and amend his will. He hadn't updated his will since before Mary Alice's death. He had been so caught up in punishing Isabella for her imaginary sins that he had not thought to include her in his last will and testament.

Perhaps, tomorrow he could start showing Isabella a better side of him. He could start to treat her the way she deserved to be treated for once in her life. He made himself a promise and a plan.

The crowing of the rooster woke Isabella from her troubled sleep. In her dreams, she had been chased by a faceless person bent on hurting her. Her neck and shoulders were stiff, sore and aching. It was not the first time she had had such dreams and awoken in pain. She performed her morning ablutions and went to the kitchen to start breakfast. She was surprised that Mr. Cullen was in the kitchen before her arrival. She hoped that he would not be angry to have beaten her there. She did not think that she was late in getting his breakfast but felt the need to apologize just the same.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'll have your breakfast ready in a few minutes." She rushed into the pantry to get her apron.

"Please do not apologize to me, Isabella. Actually, I was hoping that I could make breakfast for you this morning."

Isabella skidded to a stop, apron in hand. He wanted to cook? For her? She was stunned as he reached for the apron.

"I won't wear this though. Please have a seat."

She walked over to her place at the table still stunned and sat down.

"No need to be frightened. I can cook. Not particularly well, mind you, but I did learn a few things over the years."

He busied himself reading supplies for their meal, filling the kettle and slicing bread. She watched every movement out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to know what he was doing and it took everything in her not to jump up and help. She did not want to get in his way.

He laid out a simple meal of tea, bread, butter and jam. She stuttered a thank you and waited for him to begin eating.

"I was hoping that after breakfast we could talk. I have many questions for you as I'm sure you have for me as well."

"Yes, Sir?" Isabella answered although not certain if she had any questions she would dare to ask him.

"Isabella, I would be honoured if you were to call me by my first name, please. I realize that I haven't yet earned your forgiveness but would you grant me this small kindness?"

"Of course, Sir. I mean, of course, Jasper."

"Thank you Isabella."

They ate their meal in silence, as per usual, but the silence that morning was less palpable, less of a guest at the table than it usually was. For once it was a comfortable silence.

Isabella poured Jasper a second cup of tea and rose to clean the kitchen. Jasper did not feel the need to help, there were only so many domestic chores he liked to do and washing dishes was not one of them. He startled her when he began to speak.

"Where would you feel most comfortable having our conversation, Isabella? Would the parlour be to you liking or would you rather talk in my study?"

"What ever pleases you, Jasper."

"I think I should like to use the parlour. Would you meet me there when you are finished here?"

Isabella nodded at him and watched as he left the room. The entire morning had been surreal. He was conversing with her, asking her questions and performing her chores. She was not sure how long this behaviour would last and the idea of going back to the way things were before frightened her almost as much as these changes had. She quickly set the kitchen to rights and made her way to the parlour so as not to keep him waiting.

Jasper stood in front of the fireplace waiting for Isabella to arrive. In his mind he formulated what he wished to say to her. There were so many things that they had to discuss, the first being the status of their marriage. She still had not answered the question he had asked her the day before; was she willing to continue in this marriage?

He barely heard the whisper of her skirts as she entered the room. She made no other noise to announce her arrival. He wondered if she always moved that way or if the very threat of him had silenced her. He turned and smiled at her, hoping to seem friendly and calm.

"Please, sit, Isabella, wherever you are most comfortable." He kept his voice gentle.

"I would like to speak to you about yesterday, if you are amenable." He began as she sat.

"I'm sorry for my reaction, Sir. I will never behave in such a manner again." Isabella was very quick to apologise for her actions.

Jasper came to stand before her. She refused to look up at him. After he had been kind to her last night and again this morning she could not bear to see him angry with her. She wanted the kindness he had bestowed on her to continue. She was shocked when he lowered himself to his knees in front of her.

"Your reaction to the wrongs done to you were understandable, Isabella. I think a minor break from reality was in order. I find no fault in it and I wish you to do the same."

Isabella nodded, not convinced.

"No, I realised that I asked too much of you yesterday in light of what I told you. I would like to know what it is you are feeling and if you would like to continue to be my wife. But then I also realised that you have only known me to be the horrible man who treated you so abominably. I thought that perhaps you would let me show you the man I wish to be before you make your decision regarding our marriage."

He paused his speech only long enough to take a seat on the settee beside her. He did not touch her and for that she was glad.

"I realised also that I have kept you a prisoner in this house and I've not allowed you to know anything but this place. I would like to remedy that over the next few days if you are willing. I'd like to show you the Inn and for you to meet my employees. I'd like to show you the town and some of the attractions here. You did not have any time to see the city did you?"

"No, Sir. I came straight here from the train station."

"I do wish for you to not be so frightened of me. I swear I will treat you better. Please believe me. You have no idea just how sorry I am for what I have done to you. You did not deserve any of it, Isabella."

Isabella could not hold in her emotions any longer. She burst into tears. She sobbed as though her heart was breaking and Jasper was fairly certain that it was.

While she was shocked that he gathered her in his arms and held as she cried. She did not react to his touch. She needed the affection of being held by another person. When her weeping slowed he reached into his pocket and brought out a clean handkerchief for her to dry her eyes.

When she had calmed herself he loosened his hold on her and sat back to let her regain her composure. She worried the handkerchief in her fingers, twisting it round and round.

"I thought perhaps we could start with a small outing. I have several letters to post and I would like to visit my solicitor. Would you be willing to accompany me to the post office? It is a lovely walk and a fine early spring morning. There is a bakery next to the post office. We could purchase lunch there or bring something home with us."

Isabella held fast to the scrap of cloth in her hands. He wanted her to be seen outside of the house with him? She worried about all the people they could possibly see. What would they think of her? What had he told them about her? Would they be able to see the mark of failure upon her?

She chanced a look at him. He looked eager, almost boyish, so she nodded her head. Jasper stood and went to the front hall to get his greatcoat and scarf. He looked in the small closet and almost felt the need to vomit. Isabella had no coat, no boots, nothing warm to protect her from the chill in the air. He slammed the closet door closed and swore. He looked back at the doorway to the parlour and saw Isabella standing there, her head hung low.

"I'm so sorry Isabella, I didn't think-I didn't know. I am such a fool."

Isabella's knees threatened to collapse. He was angry again and nothing good could come from it.

"I didn't think to get you a cloak or the proper boots for walking. The ground is quite soft and there is a lot of mud. Your shoes would be ruined. How have you been getting to the water barrels or the outhouse?"

Isabella blushed furiously at such a strangely intimate question.

"There are old boots and long coats in the mudroom off the kitchen. I wear those."

Jasper knew she was speaking of his old items in the back. He shrugged off his coat and folded it over his arm. He stood there in defeat.

"There are so many things I never thought about. I was so set in my course, so determined to punish you for. . . for just being here. For months I've let this hatred rule me. Then, when I learned the error of my ways and started to think for myself again, I thought it would be so easy. I thought we would take a walk, get to know one another, and perhaps build our marriage from that familiarity. But, yet again I have failed. I haven't even provided the means for you to leave this place. I have shackled you to this home by not even providing the proper footwear."

Isabella was pained to see him in such torment. She had too much heart not to feel sympathy for her husband, her jailer, as he saw himself.

"Perhaps someone at the Inn could lend me the proper outerwear?" She asked in a moment of boldness.

"Maybe, I could ask one of the maids. But therein lies another problem. They know nothing of you. No one knows that I am married and that I'm keeping a wife here."

AN: Poor Bella, the hits just keep coming. I am planning a HEA, eventually. Thank for reading. I do appreciate your kind words. I even appreciate the not so kind ones. Not that there have been many of those, but still...

beachcomberlc tidies my thoughts and keeps me from ruining this story with too many commas. For this and many other things, I thank her.