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Chapter 9: Confidere


A cool hand cradled Bella's face, stroking lightly. Half asleep, she turned toward the comforting presence, but in an instant, it was gone.

Her eyes opened to a canopy of leaves overhead, rustling in the gentle breeze. Jack lay next to her, contentedly gnawing at a bone.

Jack!

With a start, Bella remembered why she was in the forest. She scrambled to her feet and spun in a circle, searching for any sign of the young man. Failing that, she looked up into the branches overhead, but they were as empty as the forest floor. She was alone.

Tears of frustration filled her eyes, and she angrily dashed them away, turning toward home. If he wishes to hide, then so be it…

Bella stopped short. There in the shadows was a man's jacket, folded neatly on the ground where she had been lying. Very slowly, as if any sudden move would cause the precious garment to disappear, she knelt beside it.

Had the young man taken off his jacket and placed it under her head as a pillow? Her stomach fluttered as she realized that he must have done. She glanced around once more, then lifted the jacket to her face and breathed in the subtle fragrance permeating the garment. A delicious warmth soothed her wounded pride, and she felt a flush heat her cheeks.

Hugging the jacket to her chest, she called to Jack and retraced her steps to the boarding house, not the least bit concerned about the reception she would find when she arrived.

~oOo~

That evening found Bella ensconced in her room, the door bolted earlier than usual, for she had no idea what kind of hours Mr. Hunter kept. Her chores complete and the house mostly quiet, she settled into a chair by the window and gazed out toward the tree line. Jack rested his chin on her knee, and she absently stroked his head as she pondered her angelic young man.

Presently she heard Michael on the stairs, followed by the gentle thud of his bedroom door closing on the floor below. At last, the household was settled! She tiptoed to her wardrobe and reached to the back where she had hidden the jacket, then spread it carefully on her bed.

There it lay, as tempting as Pandora's box. The cut and fabric were very fine, and she wondered where he had obtained such rich attire. Unable to resist, she stroked her fingers along the slender lapel, then drew back, guiltily biting a fingernail.

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the jacket out of the corner of her eye. I really should not. One of her knees began to bounce, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to shore up her resistance. It would be wrong. Obviously.

Then she recalled that this man, whose privacy she was guarding, was the same one who (she was nearly certain) had been in her bedroom the previous evening. Her conscience assuaged, she gleefully pounced upon the jacket and reached into a pocket, pulling out…a blue plaid ribbon.

Bella gasped, for she recognized the ribbon as one she had lost the previous week while walking home from town. Its companion was in her bureau drawer! She eagerly continued her search.

In the breast pocket she found a handkerchief with the initials "EAMC" monogrammed in an elegant script. Bella traced her finger over the letters, then smoothed the handkerchief over her bed pillow, blushing at the intimacy of the gesture. If he can keep my ribbon, surely I can have his handkerchief, she reasoned.

She gathered the jacket across her lap and stroked her hand across the fabric, trying to remember his features, but their encounter had been too brief and too startling for her to recall much. Holding the jacket high, she noted its length. Surely he is unusually tall. She shivered in pleasure at the thought.

Next, Bella opened the jacket to touch its silk inner lining, and her eyes fell upon a folded piece of paper protruding from the inside breast pocket. Written along the edge of the paper, clearly visible, was her name, Isabella Swan.

Bella frowned in confusion. How could this have been left in the jacket for her to find, when he couldn't have known she would follow him into the woods that morning? She drew the paper out and unfolded it to read.

April the 24th

My Dear Miss Swan,

I beg you to excuse this unorthodox letter of introduction. I am sure you would like to know how the letter came to be in my jacket pocket, and I will tell you, but I am afraid that tale must wait for another time.

First, please know that I hold you in the very highest esteem. For, though you do not know me, I have known you, have been nearby, for some time — long enough to know your character, your strength, and your kindness.

My high regard for you has kindled a strong desire to keep you safe. To my frustration, circumstances have required that I watch over your safety only from a distance, and without your knowledge, for which I beg your forgiveness.

Yet you are perceptive, and I have grown careless. I feared you had caught sight of me on several occasions, but last night, I was certain of it. Still, I hoped you would ascribe what you had seen to an overactive imagination.

In the end of course, it was little Jack who took matters out of our hands. It seems that he has grown rather attached to me, most likely due to the sausages with which I regularly buy his silence. When you followed him into the woods and caught sight of me in the light of day, I knew my fate was sealed, and yours as well.

For, as you surely have realized by now, I am not like other men. I am dangerous, Miss Swan, more than you can possibly imagine. And my true nature must remain hidden. Should my enemies suspect that I have taken you into my confidence, they would respond with deadly violence against both of us.

I am filled with remorse that I have placed you in this danger…yet I fear that I no longer have the strength to stay away from you.

I can never offer you, nor ask of you, what my heart most deeply desires — for I am not worthy to be with you as a man should be with a woman. But, what I will ask of you is this: that you would permit me to continue as your protector, for as long as you would have me. I must keep my distance, but know that if you are ever in distress, you need only call out to me, and I will come.

Awaiting your answer with devoted heart,

I am,

Your servant,

Edward Anthony Masen Cullen

Bella's heart raced, and her mind kept pace, but a single thought surpassed the others:

Edward.

His name was Edward.

She traced her fingers over the signature and tested his name in her mind, then whispered it in the softest breath possible: Edward Cullen.

After residing for so long only in her imagination, suddenly the angel had become a person with thoughts and feelings of his own. And he was, at last, an angel no longer…which raised a whole host of questions.

Had it been he who had rescued her from the fire? And what of the mysterious dangers he hinted at? How could he have entered her room at night, or survived his fall from the tree? What manner of man was he?

Should she trust him?

As the questions continued to mount, her happiness turned to trepidation, and the darkness outside her window became menacing.

Was he out there even now, watching?

Unshed tears pricked her eyes, and she squeezed them shut, trying to ward off the wave of loss and sadness that threatened to engulf her. Her beloved angel — the one who had offered salvation in her time of grief — was gone. Worse, he had never been. In his place was a man she didn't know…a man she feared. With a sob, she flung the jacket aside, and tears coursed down her cheeks as she mourned the loss of her angel.

Grief was all too familiar. But this time, there would be no one to comfort her.

~oOo~

The next morning after breakfast, Bella went to her room and retrieved the jacket from her closet, determined to return it to the woods. She would need to wrap it in something in order to sneak it out of the house. She turned to retrieve a blanket from the chest and froze, her eyes huge.

Her cousin, Michael, stood just inside her door, which must not have latched properly, for she had not heard it open. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he wore an impish smirk.

"Bella, whose jacket is that?" His eyebrows looked as if they might disappear into his hairline, and Bella groaned inwardly, even as her mind raced to find a possible explanation.

"Mr. Hunter!" she blurted. "He...asked me to launder it." Michael looked at the jacket doubtfully, and truly, it did appear to be quite clean.

"It has a disagreeable odor. Mr. Hunter has a…condition." Bella cringed even as the words left her mouth. Michael continued to smirk as he backed out of the door.

"Very well, cousin, if you say so. But don't get too close to Mr. Hunter. He gives me a bad feeling. And let me know if you want to talk about anything." He gave her a meaningful look and closed the door behind him.

Bella slumped on the bed. How could she have been so careless as to leave the door ajar? If her Aunt Katherine had found her thus, she would never have allowed Bella to get away with such a weak explanation. She hurriedly wrapped the jacket in a wool blanket and managed to slip out of the house and across the yard unnoticed.

She had intended to return the jacket to the spot in which she had found it, but once she reached the woods, she lost her nerve, instead placing it at the head of the trail. She returned to the house, trying to ignore the feeling that she had just betrayed a friend.

Reaching her bedroom, she noticed something white, barely visible under the bed. With a sigh, she picked up Edward's handkerchief and tucked it into her apron pocket, then crossed to the window to look out.

Had he found the jacket yet? For a long time she stood there, looking out toward the trees, lost in thought.

~oOo~

James Hunter watched as the Swan woman made her way across the field, and idly wondered where she was off to with the bundle in her arms. She may not be as buxom as he liked, but she was intriguing, nonetheless, if only because she was so aloof.

Hunter loved women. He loved the chase, he loved the conquest, but most of all, he loved to make them writhe in pain. Occasionally, he forgot himself and went too far, landing himself with a mess to clean up and a body to hide; it was one of the reasons he never stayed long in one place.

Yes, the Swan woman was interesting. Perhaps this town wouldn't be as tedious as he had imagined.

~oOo~

Much later that day, Bella grabbed a basket from the kitchen wall and walked out into the afternoon sunshine, heading for the garden to pick vegetables. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to find Mr. Hunter dogging her steps, a strange smirk on his face.

She gave him a polite nod and continued into the garden, moving along the rows and trying her best to ignore him as he leaned his elbows on the garden fence. His broad smile was strangely unsettling. Finally she turned to face him, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Hunter?"

His smile was more of a leer now. "I certainly do hope so, my lovely Isabella."

Bella's spine stiffened in anger. "I have not given you leave to use my given name, Mr. Hunter. I will thank you to remember that, as well as the fact that I am not your anything!" She moved to the far end of the garden, hoping he would take the hint and leave.

Hunter tracked her movements. "Now Miss Swan, there's no need to be that way. Your cousin approached me, you know. Warned me to keep my distance from you. Imagine my surprise, since you and I have barely spoken two words since my arrival."

Bella continued gathering vegetables, biting her tongue against a retort.

Hunter continued, "Would you believe..." he chuckled, "...he was annoyed with me for asking you to launder a jacket of mine? Now, how would he have gotten that idea…Miss Swan?"

Bella groaned in annoyance and moved away again, the fact that she had contributed in no small part to this predicament adding to her frustration. She glanced toward the house, but knew that no help would come from there, as everyone was in town.

Hunter swung his leg over the garden fence and followed her through the rows. "You know, Miss Swan," he emphasized her name insultingly, "if you are interested in me, you need only say so. I always have time for a sweet bit of goods such as yourself."

Bella drew herself up to her full height and lifted her chin, her voice scathing. "Mr. Hunter, I am sorry that you were implicated in a misunderstanding between my cousin and me. However, that does not excuse your deplorable behavior. So that there can be no further confusion, allow me to be perfectly clear. I have no interest in you, whatsoever, nor do I welcome your advances. I would sooner kiss a snake."

With that, she turned and fled toward the relative safety of the house, but Hunter's cold laughter followed in her wake.

His voice chilling, he sang after her, "You have made a mistake, Isabella. You see, I do love a challenge."

Bella hurried her steps, her heart pounding, but Hunter kept pace. He seized her elbow, and she whirled on him furiously, crying, "Do not lay your hands on me!"

Hunter grabbed her other arm as well, giving an ugly laugh as she struggled and cried out, the basket of vegetables tumbling to spill at her feet.

"Calm yourself, Miss Swan. I promise to make this good." His breath reeked of onions as he leaned his head in close, and she strained away from him, her stomach churning.

He quickly pulled both her hands into one of his and grabbed her hair with his free hand, jerking her face up to his. "You might as well decide to enjoy this, because there is no one here to stop me."

Suddenly her attacker was gone, snatched away in an instant. Bella stumbled, and hearing a crash behind her, spun around to see Hunter lying crumpled against the house's stone foundation. Edward towered over him, his back to her as he pulled Hunter up by the scruff of his jacket.

Hunter attempted to land a blow on his rival's face, but Edward smashed him against the house once more, then flung him away with a roar. Hunter went sailing a good ten feet to land in a heap, moaning.

Edward crossed to where Hunter lay on the ground and snarled, "If you ever touch the lady again, you will not live long enough to regret it." Hunter whimpered and rolled away, cringing.

A thrill raced up Bella's spine as she watched, awestruck. This was the Edward in the letter, the dangerous man and fierce protector. Even the champion of her imagination paled in comparison.

Edward bent to speak menacingly near Hunter's ear. "You will leave this place, now. Do not let me see you again."

Hunter staggered to his feet and frantically limped away, fleeing toward the road.

When he had disappeared from sight, Edward turned to find Bella still standing on the path, hands covering her mouth and tears streaming down her cheeks. Not wanting to frighten her further, he approached with measured step, and then hesitantly offered her a handkerchief from his pocket.

Bella smiled tearfully at him and pulled one from her apron with a shaky laugh. "I already have one of yours."

A stray wisp of hair teased her cheek, and Edward's hands ached to brush it back, to wipe away the tears that lingered there. But he folded his hands behind his back, and took a small step back. "I am glad."

Seeing the spilled vegetables, Edward knelt to gather them for her, then he walked her to the house, holding the kitchen door as she stepped inside. Bella turned and offered him her hand. "Mr. Cullen, I cannot thank you enough. I don't know what would have happened, had you not intervened."

Edward hesitated, finally taking her proffered hand gingerly in his own cool one. He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers, fearing her reaction to his touch, but found only gratitude there.

"I promised to protect you," he said. "It is my very great honor to do so." Then he smiled ruefully. "Though I must confess that this is not how I envisioned our first meeting."

"Nor I." Bella found herself staring into mesmerizing golden-brown eyes, and suddenly she was unable to speak another word.

But his eyes were hidden from her as he looked down at their joined hands. "You returned my letter," he murmured.

"I did," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I..." She faltered, and he quickly looked up.

"Don't be," he said. "You have done nothing wrong." He swallowed and looked away, and this time it was he who faltered. "I…heard you crying last night, after you read it. I…"

He met her eyes sadly. "I apologize for frightening you." She gave him a teary nod in acknowledgment.

"My family will see to it that Hunter is well and truly gone before sundown. My parents' house is on the north carriage trail, about three miles up. Please..." He closed his eyes and continued, "Please go to them, if you ever have need. They will help you." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and opened his eyes.

"You are safe, Miss Swan. Please, don't be afraid." He released her hand and stepped back from the threshold. "And, I don't want you to worry. So I give you my word...you will never have to see me again."

Edward turned away and began to walk toward the forest.

"Wait!" Bella took several steps after him, her heart suddenly in her throat. He stopped, then slowly turned toward her, though he kept his face averted.

"Mr. Cullen," she said softly, "I apologize for failing to give you a reply to your letter. Please...allow me to make it up to you."

"You don't wish me to leave?" he asked lowly, "I don't frighten you?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she answered, taking another step forward, "Not any more. I trust you."

Edward searched her eyes and saw the affirmation there. "Not any more," he repeated. "I am glad." And the hint of a smile touched his lips.

Bella gestured awkwardly toward the kitchen behind her. "May I offer you a cup of tea?...or coffee?" The smile that lit his face then was so sweet, so genuine, that her heart seemed to skip a beat.

"Nothing would please me more," he replied, "but…I am afraid it is urgent that I first speak with my family about Mr. Hunter." A bit unsure, he asked, "But…perhaps later?"

"The others will return before long, but it might be possible, after supper…when they're asleep," she offered, biting her lip.

"Tonight then," he replied, and took her hand in his. "I look forward to it more than you can know."

Gently, Edward lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her skin. His smile, when he stood back, was as radiant as the sun.

And the beauty of her answering smile was such, that, for the first time…Edward began to hope.


A/N: Confidere = to trust completely

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