A/N: My Chapter.

My entire body went numb with fear as I held my breath in anticipation. The shuffling sound from behind the door had ceased, but there was a small shadow creeping beneath it and onto the floorboards. The shadow grew closer in a move that I imagined was an attempt to listen through the door. After several moments of perfect silence, the shadow retreated slowly. A floorboard creaked loudly from the hallway followed by a low curse, effectively ruining any attempt at a stealthy escape. All movement stilled for several long moments before I could hear soft footsteps padding across the hallway and down stairs.

Edward sighed loudly in relief, allowing his head to drop and burying it in his pillow. He tightened his grip around my waist again, pulling me close against his side. I, on the other hand, still had not relaxed my rigid stance. Only when I began to feel lightheaded did I allow myself to fall back against my pillows, still in a sitting position. I clutched my hands to my stomach as a pungent wave of nausea coursed through my system. It was a feeling similar to that of sea sickness.

Edward raised his head to look at me. His brow knitted in confusion and concern. "Are you well? he asked.

I didn't answer him, but merely shook my head slowly from side to side.

Oh, god. What had I done?

After nearly 18 years of a miserable, pitiful existence I had finally found a family willing to treat me nicely, and I immediately jumped into bed with the master of the house like some common street whore.

Even more devastating than my severe lack of judgment was the fact that someone had heard us; that much was for sure. It would only be a matter of time before everyone in the house discovered our secret. I felt dirty, and ashamed. I wanted to die, or at least bury myself deep enough where no one would ever find me. I would never be able to face Alice or Angela again, even if they agreed to see me; surely I would die from such shame and humiliation.

It would have been easy to blame Edward for this, to convince myself that he had forced me, or manipulated me, or tricked me into bed with him. But nothing, not even my own pride, could persuade me to believe such blasphemy. I had wanted this. I had wanted him to make love to me. Worst of all, I had wanted him to want me, too. I had allowed myself to become emotionally involved in this situation. What had I been thinking? That Edward would actually entertain the idea of becoming romantically involved with his personal servant?

I felt like such a fool.

I shoved Edward's arm off of me as I slid off the bed, taking the sheet with me and wrapping it around myself. Edward's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed.

"Where, exactly, do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"I need to leave," I mumbled, staring at my feet as I shuffled out of the room.

Edward grabbed me by the arm. "No, you don't." His voice was firm, but also gentle in some strange way, as if he were asking me to stay.

But I couldn't stay, even if I was delusional enough to convince myself that he actually wanted me to. I turned away from him, twisting my arm in an attempt to break his grasp.

"Isabella, do not turn your back to me." His voice was authoritative when he said this, but I also got the distinct impression I had hurt his feelings.

My hopeful imagination was running away with me again.

I turned slowly to face him, and continued staring at my feet when I spoke again. "I . . . think it would be best . . . for both of us if . . . this . . . doesn't happen again."

Edward was silent for several long seconds. I could feel him staring at my face, analyzing my expression. "If that's what you think is best," he said slowly.

I nodded, but he still did not let go of my arm.

"May I leave now?" I whispered, my voice nearly breaking.

"If you must." He released me, but I got the sense that he did so reluctantly.

I turned my back on him, rushing from his room and into my own. I quickly shut the door and locked it behind me, separating myself from him. I was glad that he could not see me as I leaned my forehead against the door, tears streaming noiselessly down my face.

Moving to the bed, I curled myself into a fetal position and cried until I was too exhausted to shed any more tears. I fell asleep for a long while, and when I woke it was dark outside my window. I propped myself up on my elbows, feeling dazed. Voices echoed up from below as I heard a bell ring in the distance. Then from downstairs came Alice's clear, resonating voice: "Edward, Isabella! Time for dinner!"

With a groan, I raised myself from the bed and headed over to my closet. I found a maroon colored cotton dress and pulled it over my head. It looked simple and comfortable, which suited me just fine. I was in no mood for fashion at the moment, and honestly, I was a little sore.

I approached the mirror and recoiled at the sight of my own reflection. My skin was flushed and sweaty looking. My hair was tangled and messy, and my lips were very obviously red and swollen. There were large, angry bruises starting to form across my neck and collarbone. I tried to pull the neckline of my dress and far up as it would go, but it still did not cover them.

Alice called my name from downstairs again, this time sounding impatient. Sighing in resignation, I twisted my hair into a bun at the back of my head and headed downstairs to face my humiliation.

--

Everyone else was already seated by the time I reached the dining room. I was careful not to make eye contact with anyone as I shuffled toward the table, but I accidentally looked up at the wrong moment and directly met Alice's gaze. Her eyes widened at something – whether it was in response to my appearance or my expression, I could not be sure. I dutifully took my seat between her and Edward at the table. Alice was still staring at me, concern causing her delicate eyebrows to scrunch together. I stared down into my lap, avoiding her.

I was blessed with a distraction as the maids began to serve the meal. A large bowl of stew was placed in front of me. It looked delicious, but I found that I had no appetite. All the room in my stomach was currently occupied by a twisting, sickening sense of fear. The others at the table were chattering leisurely as Emmett and Jasper were relived their hunting trip from earlier that day. Edward dutifully feigned interested in their conversation, but every so often his eyes would flicker to my face. Every time our eyes met, his expression would become sad again.

Alice placed her tiny hand on top of mine underneath the table. I reluctantly turned my head a fraction of an inch to peek over at her. She was gazing at me with an intense expression; her lovely dark eyes were so deep it felt as if they could see inside my soul. Fearing she had seen too much already, I tore my gaze away from her and faced forward again.

Alice leaned very close to me so that he mouth was a fraction of an inch away from my ear. "Isabella, are you alright?" she whispered. Her voice was so soft and delicate; I doubted anyone else at the table was able to hear.

I shook my head once, hoping no one else had noticed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Alice's gaze settle upon one of the bruises along the side of my neck. Her gaze then flickered from my face to Edward's, and then back to mine again. Her eyed narrowed shrewdly. "Did something happen?" she asked quietly. The tone of her voice was casual, but I could sense the burning curiosity behind her words.

Now was certainly not the proper time to tell her, but I somehow got the feeling that if I didn't tell her right now what was going on, she would blow things wildly out of proportion and assume it was something much worse than what it actually was. I turned my body to look at her directly and tried to communicate silently with my eyes. It must have worked, because Alice gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. This was it; the moment of truth.

She knew.

We continued to stare at each other with matching wide eyed expressions. Alice did not seem disgusted or repulsed by me; quite the opposite, actually. Her lips twitched up at the corners before stretching into a knowing smile. This gave me a small amount of hope.

All hope ceased, however, as I heard a loud peel of laughter from the opposite end of the table. My head turned toward the sound, and I was surprised to find that it had come from Jessica. She met my gaze directly and held it for a very long moment. Her eyes glinted maliciously as her lips curled back over her teeth in an intimidating sneer. It took me a moment before I realized the significance of her expression.

I groaned inwardly. Could this situation possibly get any worse?

Jessica turned to speak to the other maids. "It's such a shame, isn't it," she drawled obnoxiously, "when the hired help try to act above their stations?" Her tone was conversational, but loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. A hot flush crept up my neck as I slid further down into my seat.

One of the other maids, Lauren, giggled loudly in response. "Yes," she agreed, "It's just sad, the things some poor girls will do to get attention."

The two of them cackled loudly at my expense. They were so caught up in their fit of laughter that they physically jumped as Edward's fist came in contact with the table.

"Enough," he hissed. Their laughter ceased as soon as they took in Edward's livid glare.

It was Alice who spoke next, and her voice was low and frigid as ice. "Jessica, Lauren, if the two of you are incapable of behaving yourselves, perhaps you should be excused from the table so that the rest of us can enjoy our meals in peace."

A hot blush covered Lauren's face as they quietly left the table, but Jessica continued to smile smugly. She knew that she had won.

Alice placed her hand on mine again, but I was not comforted by her public censure of Jessica, nor was I relieved to have her gone. The implications of her comment still hung heavily in the air, and the damage had already been done. Utterly humiliated, I pushed myself away from the table.

"Excuse me," I whispered. Hot tears began to prick at my eyes as I fled the dining room.

I had no particular destination in mind for my escape, so I took the nearest detour into the Cullen's massive library. It was dark and quiet, exactly the sort of place one would go to be alone. I headed toward the back to the darkest, farthest removed corner.

I leaned unsteadily against a large bookshelf. My body curled in on itself defensively as heavy tears streamed down my face and waves of insecurity, shame, and regret washed over me. In the distance, I could hear soft footsteps approached from behind.

"Go away please, Alice," I muttered, my voice thick with tears.

"I'm not Alice," said a soft, masculine voice. I recognized it immediately.

I turned to find Edward leaning against the nearest bookshelf. "What in the world. . ." he began, ready to censure me for my abrupt departure. His voice trailed off as he took in my expression.

He crossed the distance between us in two long strides and grabbed my face between his hands. "Why are you crying?" he demanded, brushing anxiously at the wetness on my face.

I didn't answer immediately, and his gaze shifted down to the dark bruises peeking out from under the neckline of my dress. He brushed his fingers lightly across one of them.

"I am . . . so sorry," he murmured, his voice full of remorse. "It was unaccountable, the way I behaved. I lost control of myself. Please forgive me."

"I'm not angry with you, Edward."

He blinked, confused. "Then why are you crying?" he asked, bewildered.

My eyes shifted uneasily toward the dining room.

Understanding crossed Edward's features. "Is it because of what those vipers were saying?"

I nodded.

Edward exhaled sharply. "Isabella, listen to me. Jessica is a vapid, simple minded girl who derives joy from other people's suffering. What she says or thinks is completely devoid of any substance or value and therefore means nothing. Do you understand?"

I sniffled loudly. "But . . . Alice and Angela . . . Jasper and Emmett . . . and Rosalie," I whispered. "What will they think of me?

"It's none of their concern." He told me seriously. "This matter is our business. It is between you and I, and no one else."

I was somewhat placated by his confidence, but there was one other matter still weighing heavily upon my mind.

"And what about you?" I whispered, looking down at my feet to avoid meeting his gaze.

"What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed.

I took a deep, shaky breath before looking up to face him. "What . . . am I . . . to you?"

Edward blinked, as if taken off guard by this question. He seemed confused momentarily, but then I could see the implication of my question begin to sink in. He realized what I was asking him.

Whether he could care for me as I had begun to care for him; whether I was someone worthy of his affections.

His eyes softened then, and he stared at me with the most tender of expressions. He reached to stroke my face with his fingers again, and I closed my eyes at the sensation.

"Isabella," he whispered. The way he spoke my name, with such gentle reverence, made me wonder how I had ever thought myself unworthy of him.

But I was unprepared for what happened next.

A/N: So listen, I know you guys are frustrated by the cliffhanger, but please stop leaving nasty comments about it. It's just rude.