I own nothing.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, GrammarBitch.

I didn't expect so many of you to review after my last update, and it truly makes me happy that you like it so much. Love you!

Pause

Carlisle noticed her tear stricken face, but he did not ask her about it, fearing he might upset her again. Isabella forced a smile for him and walked inside the cottage.

"I am so happy to hear that," she whispered. "Is he all right? Esme?"

Carlisle nodded. "Go see for yourself."

He opened the door for her, beaming at his wife from the doorway. He was so happy, and he felt so fulfilled. Just staring at his two reasons for existence filled his heart with such joy. Esme found his eyes and smiled with tears in her eyes. Their son was nestled in the warm cradle of her arms, and she had never felt more content.

Isabella immediately relaxed at the sight of them. Her shoulders slumped, and a relieved sigh escaped her lips. She would forget about Edward. At least, for now. Esme and the baby were fine. She could not ask for more.

"You are awake," Isabella whispered, walking closer to the bed.

She noticed Victoria was nowhere to be seen, so Isabella assumed she had already left.

Esme smiled. "I am afraid this little thing may disappear when I wake up." She looked at her precious baby boy and pressed a tender kiss to his small forehead. The baby whimpered and then fell back to sleep. A lonely tear slid down Esme's cheek.

Carlisle planted a kiss on the top of her head and caressed his baby's little hand. "I shall go tell everyone. They will be as happy as we are," he said, leaving the room.

Isabella picked a stool from the corner of the room and brought it close to the bed. "He is so small," she whispered with a smile. "And beautiful. He resembles you."

Esme chuckled. "I think he looks more like Carlisle. He has his nose and chin. He has his blond hair, too."

"But he has your eyebrows, lips and forehead," Isabella pointed out, gently stroking the baby's blond head with a trembling hand.

She had never seen a baby this small. Actually, she had never seen a baby. It was such a wonderful sight, one that melted your heart and brought tears of happiness to your eyes. She wished she could feel the immense joy of seeing mother and child together, but she could not. Only a portion of her mind was focused on the present.

She withdrew her hand from the baby and stared up at Esme. "I am so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Esme asked, confused. "You did not do anything wrong, Isabella."

"Yes, I did. I ... I reminded you of your father. I should not have asked you about the past. It was wrong of me to do such a thing." Her voice trembled as she continued. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears away.

"No, Isabella." Esme shook her head, reaching for her hand. "Do not blame yourself! I told you because I wanted to."

"I was so afraid when you told me you were giving birth. I was scared I had made you go into labor by upsetting you," Isabella said, lifting her shoulders.

Esme laughed. "Oh, no! Isabella, you did not do anything wrong. Yes, I got sad, because of my father. But I expected to give birth anytime soon, so it was no surprise that the baby decided to come now." She squeezed Isabella's hand affectionately. "And if what you say is true, then I have to thank you. You have brought him sooner into our lives."

Isabella raised her eyebrows, stunned. The guilt she felt immediately vanished. "Can I hold him?"

"Of course."

Esme gently placed him in Isabella's arms, careful not to wake him. His small, pink lips twitched a little, but a second later, his face became peaceful once again. Isabella brought him closer to her face and smiled. He was such a beautiful baby.

"Hello, sweetheart," she whispered. His cheeks were rosy and asking her for a kiss. Ever so gently, she leaned in and softly pressed her lips to his warm flesh. "Welcome to this world."

Esme watched them from the bed, feeling exhausted. Her eyes were drooping, but she did not want to sleep. "His name will be Anthony. Did you know Edward's middle name is Anthony?"

Isabella pursed her lips. "No, I did not know."

"Carlisle and I have agreed to name our baby Anthony. We have always thought it is a beautiful name."

Isabella nodded, but her eyes were staring off into space. She ghosted another kiss on the baby's forehead, and then she gave him back to his mother. As soon as he left her arms, she suddenly missed his warmth and his peaceful expression.

"What happened, Isabella?" Esme asked, furrowing her brow in concern. "You look forlorn."

Isabella sighed. "It does not matter, Esme."

"I am here if you want to talk to someone. And that sadness I see in your eyes does matter."

Isabella met her gaze for a second. "Edward and I fought. It got very ugly."

"Oh, Isabella!"

She would not tell Esme about the cause of their fight. It would upset her, and Isabella could not ruin this moment for her.

"Have faith everything will be back to normal in a couple of days," Esme said.

Isabella managed a small smile. "I better go. It is getting darker, and I am afraid I shall not find my way back to the castle. Goodnight, Esme. Goodnight, baby."

"See you tomorrow," Esme whispered, wishing she could say something else that would cheer Isabella up.

Isabella closed the door behind her and left the cottage, walking outside into the chilly air. She wrapped her arms around her body. Her steps were guided by the light of the full moon, looming above her. She was so absorbed in her thoughts, that she did not realize someone was watching her from a window.

Edward saw her walk out of Esme's house. Carlisle had told him about his baby boy, thus he knew why Isabella had stayed so long inside. He had watched her from the moment she entered the cottage, until now. He was tempted to go downstairs and talk to her.

What could he even say to her? That he was sorry, but he meant what he said? It would not please her. And he had never apologized before. He did not know if he wanted to start now. But the inexplicable need to hold her in his arms and kiss her was overwhelming him – as much as the need to see her smile again.

Without giving the matter a second thought, Edward opened the door. He was on the first floor when he heard her voice.

"I was wondering if you could prepare another chamber for me," his wife whispered to someone. He tried to see who she was talking to and saw Irina, one of his servants.

The woman seemed stunned. "Um, of course, Milady. There is another one on the second floor. Would you like that?" she asked, although her voice sounded confused.

Edward frowned. Isabella meant what she said. She was going to sleep into another chamber.

"Yes, thank you. Do you think it will take a long time?"

From what he could see from the top of the stairs, she was deliberately ignoring Irina's curiosity.

He suddenly wanted to go downstairs and shake some sense into her.

"None at all, Madam."

"Good." Isabella smiled a little at Irina.

The servant hurried past her to go grab what she needed. Meanwhile, Isabella sat down on one of the stools at the end of the table. She carelessly traced the contour of the table with one of her fingertips.

Her mind strayed to Edward's promise to allow her to go riding. Would he talk to Eric about the horses, especially after what happened? She hoped he did, for she did not have anything else to do around here. She longed for a ride, to feel the wind caressing her face, to feel free and uninhibited.

A splinter of wood got into her finger, breaking her out of her reverie. "Ow!"

At the sound of her voice, Edward walked downstairs. Isabella looked up and gritted her teeth.

"Let me see," he said.

"I can manage."

He took the seat in front of her and grabbed her hand, ignoring her refusal. She tried to snatch it back, but his grip tightened. She had no choice but to surrender with a scowl. His fingers were gentle and warm, making her nervous.

She bit her lip as the awkward, uncomfortable silence stretched further. His warm breath on her palm was distracting her.

Irina entered the room and blushed as soon as she saw them. She ran past them and up the stairs. Edward ignored her, his attention solely on Isabella.

"You are sleeping in another chamber," he said, breaking the silence.

"You have heard."

"I did." His response made her suspicious. He looked up from her fingers and met her curious eyes. "You do not have to switch rooms."

She expected him to continue, to tell her what she really wanted to hear. But he did not. Disappointment crept up into her body, and she bowed her head, avoiding his gaze.

"I want some time alone, Edward. I need to think about everything you have told me. I have to try and understand you, but it is so hard," she whispered.

He took the splinter out of her hand, and then he brought it to his lips, surprising her. She stared in awe as he kissed the back of her hand. Then he jumped to his feet and turned around.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight? That's it? That's everything you have to say to me?" She raised her eyebrows, surprised. "I thought ... I thought you were going to ... Forget it, Edward. Goodnight to you, too."

"You said you wanted some time alone, Isabella. I cannot force you to sleep in the same chamber with me when you obviously do not want to. I will not withdraw what I told you, and I doubt you would do that, either."

They stared at each other a little longer, until she nodded. He suddenly wished he had kissed her. The thought surprised him. Why would he want such a thing? But he wanted to feel her soft lips against him one more time, before she went to bed and left him alone. Isabella seemed oblivious to the battle taking place inside his head.

When they finally reached the second floor, he turned to her.

"Isabella?"

"What?"

She raised one of her eyebrows. Taking her by surprise, he tenderly grabbed her face, lowering his mouth to hers. She gasped softly when their lips met, and her entire body relaxed. Before he could deepen the feather-like kiss, Edward pulled away, and his hooded eyes bore into hers for a couple of seconds. One of her hands grasped one of his, and he could see the questions lingering in her gaze. Without saying anything more, he dropped his hands from her face, turned around and walked up the stairs. Isabella stared after him, blinking. Her fingers touched her lips and wondered what that kiss had been about.

She barely slept a wink, thinking about how many things changed in less than a day. She tossed and turned all night. Around midnight, she finally admitted to herself that she had been hoping the entire night that Edward would come to her. But that did not happen, so she spent the rest of the night trying to forget her disappointment. Then, she was angry at herself for thinking about it. After everything he had said to her, she should not even think his name. When the sun came up the next morning, she was exhausted.

"This is ridiculous," she whispered to herself.

She probably would have been content to know Edward barely got a wink of sleep, too. He stared at the ceiling the entire night, unable to fall asleep. Her sweet scent was still lingering on the pillows, between the sheets. Every time he dozed off, images of Isabella began to run through his head, and sleep eluded him altogether. The thought of going into her chamber sprang into his mind a couple of times, but he dismissed it immediately.

Breakfast was awkward and uncomfortable. At least, at first. The soldiers were extremely aware of the strained situation between Isabella and Edward, so they tried to lighten up the atmosphere in the room by jesting with one another and telling funny stories about one another's misfortunes.

"When we battled with the Dwyers last summer, a woman of their clan shot an arrow right in Laurent's backside." One of the soldiers laughed, slapping his hand against the table. "You should have seen his face when he saw his attacker. Neither of us thought the woman would be able to actually hit him, but she surprised us all when she did."

"You saw her, but you did not stop her?" Isabella asked, the story catching her attention.

"Aye," the same man shamelessly admitted. "All of us did." They all snickered, but Isabella could not hide her expression of shock. "Laurent was not badly injured, Milady."

"I have got a scar to remind me of her forever." Laurent sighed, posing a huge grin.

"And wounded pride, too." James laughed, earning himself a glare from his friend.

After breakfast, Edward walked outside, ignoring her. Isabella shrugged off his insolence. She wanted to take a walk through the woods, and later, she would talk to Eric. The weather seemed nice today, and she wanted to take advantage of that. A horse fit marvelously into that plan.

But her mood drooped as soon as she walked past a couple of women. They started whispering to each other, staring at her like she was mentally ill. She stiffened her spine, showing them she did not care what they were thinking about her. She could not help hearing what they were saying, though.

"The laird kicked her out of his bedchamber," one of them murmured.

"Maybe she does not satisfy him in bed." The other one giggled shamelessly.

"Do you think she really slept with him?"

"I would if I were her."

Isabella frowned. The women clearly did not realize she could hear them. She stopped in front of them.

"I suppose you do not have anything better to do," she said with a stern look.

Their eyes widened, and they quickly got out of her sight. It seemed everyone knew. She should have known Irina would not keep her mouth shut. Women liked gossip, and that was that. The entire clan must have found out by now. She swallowed hard and tried to grasp the idea that they might not like her as much as she had wanted them to. The only woman she really trusted right now was Esme. At least, she hoped she could trust her.

After her short walk, she decided to go talk to Eric. Not knowing where the stable was, she asked a soldier for directions. She met Edward's eyes for a while, for he was talking to Laurent, and they were not so far from her. She turned around and walked towards the stable.

"Good morning," she said, smiling at the back of a young man. He turned toward her voice, and his eyes widened for a second.

"Good morning, Milady," he said.

"Eric, right?" When the man nodded, she continued, "I was wondering if my husband talked to you about my horse." She prepared herself for disappointment.

"Aye, Milady. He did, not long ago. He wants me to give you the mare, Abby. She is not very young, but she is obedient and likes to be petted as much as possible." He smirked at her.

Isabella raised her eyebrows, suspicious. "Did Edward tell you to give me the mare, only because he thinks I can not handle a stallion?"

Eric seemed surprised by the question. "Um ... he did not mention that."

Isabella nodded. "I would like to see her, please."

"Right." He led her toward the end of the stable.

While they walked side by side, Isabella studied the beautiful horses, neighing at her, like they were trying to understand who she really was. A smile curved her lips as she stared and waved at them. They all looked so powerful and large. Her eyes found Edward's black stallion, and the horse nodded his head at her, like he recognized her. Without saying a word to Eric, she approached him.

"Hi," she whispered, raising her hand in a futile attempt to pet him on the head.

The stallion reared back, snorting. The noise drew Eric's attention, and he was shocked when he saw Isabella so close to the horse. She could get hurt. He quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"The horse could have injured you, Milady." His eyes widened in concern.

Isabella seemed so calm, though. "No. He knows me."

"His front hooves could have hit you in the face," he said, trying not to sound rude. Isabella narrowed her eyes at him.

"I would have stepped away from him. I just did not think he would hit me." She lifted her shoulders. "After all, he brought me here." She should be mad at him for doing that, she thought, turning to Eric. "Where is Abby?"

"Come with me. I am sure you can hear her from here. The stallion seems to have scared her."

Indeed, Abby was frantic, when they finally reached her. She was squealing and shifting nervously in her stall. Eric reached over to her, but she pushed away his hand.

Isabella giggled. "What were you saying about being obedient?"

"She usually is." Eric frowned. "Abby, hush!" He tried to calm her down again, and this time it worked a little. The mare neighed softly, and then she raised her head. When his hand caressed her, she stopped thrashing around and came closer to Eric.

"She is very beautiful," Isabella whispered, trying to touch her, too. The mare started and pulled back.

"Easy, Milady. She is not used to strangers."

She nodded, staring at the mare. Abby did not look like Maya, but Isabella could see a small resemblance in their attitudes. She stepped closer, and her hand carefully touched her head. Abby exhaled out, curious.

"Hi, Abby," she whispered. "I am going to be your new owner." She smiled at the horse, stroking her between the eyes.

Eric sighed, relieved. "Should I bring the saddle?"

"I usually prefer to ride bareback," she muttered, not looking away from Abby.

She could not see the shock imprinted on Eric's face. He stared at her, wide-eyed, thinking she had gone daft. Nobody rode bareback, not even his laird.

"I do not believe the laird would appreciate that."

"Why does he need to know?" she asked, turning to Eric.

She saw his disbelief and sighed. Why were they so scared to disobey their lord? Although she was still mad at her husband for being so cruel to her, she was happy he had kept his promise about the horse. He had talked to Eric, even though she had infuriated him. Carlisle was right after all. Edward never broke his promises.

"Bring the saddle, Eric," she mumbled. If Edward kept his promise, she could at least use the saddle.

Eric raised his eyebrows, wondering why she had changed her mind so quickly. Without asking her, he nodded and left her alone for a short time.

Isabella tried to get closer to the mare, while Eric brought the saddle. She was anxious to go for a ride, but she wanted to be sure Abby would not throw her on the ground as soon as they were outside. The horse raised her head, showing Isabella that she liked her light touch. When her hand slowly moved to her neck, Abby neighed and nudged her arm.

"That is more like it," she said with a chuckle. "I believe we are going to be great friends, Abby. Right?"

Eric appeared at her side, and then he stepped inside the stall. Abby did not flinch away from him as he expertly saddled her. Isabella waited for Abby outside her stall. When Eric finally brought the mare to her, she grabbed the reins.

"We shall go for a ride," she said to Abby.

"I think someone should escort you, Milady," he mumbled.

Isabella furrowed her brow. "I would like to go alone. Just me and Abby. We should get to know each other more. Besides, it is not like I would get too far. I will be back before the midday meal."

He nodded with a smirk. "Then, good day, Milady."

xXx

After the midday meal, Edward went to the training camp to watch the young soldiers. He had not seen Isabella today, not after their little staring contest this morning. He would not ask about her, though. She told him she wanted some time alone, and he would give it to her. He also wanted her to understand his motives for preferring to be left alone with his demons.

He turned toward Carlisle. "How are they?" he asked, referring to the soldiers.

"They are good, although they are still young. Emmett would be pleased to see them so motivated. He always likes a good fight." Carlisle snickered.

Emmett, as a young, excited warrior, fought everyone and everything just to show off to the ladies. Everyone was relieved when he gradually settled down over the years.

"They are strong-willed." Edward nodded in appreciation.

Carlisle suddenly turned to him, pensive. "What is wrong between you and Isabella?"

Edward scowled at his friend. "Gossip travels faster than lightning."

"Especially if Isabella stops sleeping in your bedchamber," Carlisle pointed out, with a raised eyebrow.

Edward's frown deepened. "I should have known Irina would tell everyone."

"But what really happened between you two? You never got along, but it was manageable. If she sleeps somewhere else, then something bad must have occurred. Is this fight even worth it?"

Edward debated whether he should tell him about Esme's story or not. Seeing Carlisle's confused expression, Edward decided it was not a good idea to tell him. Just because he was miserable didn't mean Carlisle had to be miserable too.

"I do not think it is worth it, Carlisle, but neither of us is ready to accept what the other requires. So, maybe we need to be apart for a while."

"Really? Is it not because you are proud and too stubborn to accept her for who she is?"

Edward's eyes narrowed. "There is always a limit, Carlisle."

"Not if she is your wife." Carlisle lifted his shoulders, trying not to get into an argument with his laird, who seemed annoyed by the conversation.

"Being my wife does not change things."

"I think it does. If you would try to get to know her better, you would like her more. That is, if you do not fall in love with her." Carlisle grinned at him, knowing he had surprised Edward.

"Love is not for someone like me. I do not believe in love." Edward shrugged him off.

"Because you do not want to, not because you are not capable of it."

"Carlisle, this conversation seems a suitable subject for women. Drop it!" Edward said, glaring at his friend. Carlisle shook his head at him in disbelief.

A movement from the corner of his eye drew Edward's attention, and he turned around, only to see Eric running frantically towards them.

"Laird! Laird!" He yelled as he got closer.

"What is it?"

Eric panted, looking back and forth between Carlisle and Edward. His cheeks were flushed, and he seemed uneasy.

"Lady Isabella has not come back."