A/N: I accept that many aspects of this story are not my own creation. Thank you in advance for reading, following, and reviewing. Special thanks to dowlingnana for beta reading this chapter.
BELLA
"Rosalie, you are not to relieve the staff of their duties. Do you understand me?"
I watch the resolve on Esme's face and realize that she will go through any length to defend her rank, and I'd be lying if I said the realization didn't scare me.
"I'm sorry again about last night," I immediately feel the need to apologize. It's the third time I've done so in the last hour. I don't know why I bring it up again.
"Mother, you'll have to forgive Bella," Edward begins to speak. "It's my fault," he hesitates only briefly, "I didn't prepare her well at all, and then with all the travel. You can hardly blame her for falling asleep last night."
"Admit it, Mom; it's me your mad at. Please, I have to ask that you not take it out on Bella."
"Very well," Esme considers.
I try my best not to flinch. It's quite a display, me trying not to give a single indication that I am afraid. With calm eyes, I assess my surroundings while pretending to be focused on the conversation.
As I analyze the group of resplendent people around me, I am afforded a better glimpse of Edward's profile. His intentionally unshaven jaw seems perfect, rattling me in a completely unwholesome way. Watching his hand reach up to massage the scruff of his chin, I swallow. His brandy hair is out of control - take-me-to bed styled from the pull of his fingers. Standing with his father to the side of the room, he pushes the sleeves of his white button up so that his forearms are exposed.
It's impossible not to take notice of the way perfectly-tailored gabardine pants grip his thighs. The outfit would have seemed preposterous in Forks, but here he's so obviously a prince. Perfect from every angle. Dignified, poised and polished, I know under all the fancy clothes is a tender man who's ticklish behind his knees.
His eyes turn and collide with mine. I'm almost startled by the affectionate survey. Dismissing him and allowing my ovaries a chance to sigh, I glance down at the chiffon fabric of the beautiful dress Alice pulled for me. Maybe I can be a part of this life, too.
"Is that right, Darling?" I'm woken again by the proximity of Edward's voice.
"I'm sorry, I missed the question." Embarrassed I feel my cheeks flush with color.
"Did we put you to sleep again, Bella?" Rosalie alleges.
"Rose!" There it is again, a sharp judgment from Edward's sister. This time though, it is followed by a quick rebuttal from the others in the room.
Carlisle smiles again, "I'd much enjoy meeting your father. Is he a sportsman, Bella?"
"Oh, well, Charlie doesn't kill what he can't eat," I respond quickly, immediately regretting my words. My big fat mouth is subconsciously attempting to school a King on animal rights. "I mean, yes, Charlie hunts and fishes with purpose, Sir."
To my dismay, Edward looks me in the eye and snorts.
"What?" I ask, feeling my chest tighten.
"Dad likes to skeet shoot," he hesitates, "I think he much prefers animals roaming the grounds opposed to hanging on the walls as well, Love."
Carlisle and Edward continue talking about clay targets. Rosalie chimes in about how she's a better shot than Edward. Edward rebounds with something about being faster than her. Esme fails at breaking the two of them from their sibling competition. And me, well, I am finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation because I'm mesmerized by the man who just called me 'Love' in front of his family.
Edward's made some mistakes and yet, I love him despite those imperfections. The errors outweighed by all the good. Our eyes lock for a moment, but he jerks his gaze back to his mother. He seems intent on pleasing her and me at the same time, a man torn between childhood and adulthood. Despite wanting to strangle him several times over the last few days, I have sympathy for the position he has put himself in.
Abruptly, Esme stands and takes her place next to Carlisle's side. She nods to Rosalie to stand as well. Feeling awkward, I stand too, getting the sense that afternoon tea has abruptly ended.
"Son, you and Bella have hardly had a moment to yourself, I'm sure you'd like to show her the grounds," Carlisle's voice is warm. "Perhaps, you two would like to go on a bit of an exploration today."
"Oh, yes, my garden is in full bloom. I'm sure Bella would like to see the efflorescence," Esme seems joyful when she speaks of her garden.
"That would be-" I'm interrupted by Edward.
"Mother, I was thinking I'd take her into town. I've gotten to know Forks well over the last year; I'd like to show Bella my hometown."
"Edward, do you really think that's a good idea?" I feel the queen slowly ice back over, freezing any sense of human decency I uncovered this afternoon.
"I don't see anything wrong with it," Edward stands as well. He turns to me and displays his hand, asking me to take it.
"Edward," Carlisle takes Esme's arm in the crook of his arm and pats her hand gently, "its bad form to be seen in public casually before the palace has had a chance to make proper announcements."
Edward's shoulders drop, and in a whisper, I hear him speak, "I'd like her with me."
"We know son," Carlisle seems sympathetic.
The polished veneer seems like it washes away and his eyes are mournful portals into his heart. The look he gives me indicates that his father's words struck a chord with him.
"Shall we," he asks as he steps in my direction and reaches a hand in offering.
Taking it, "We shall."
Esme rests her head against the strong chest of her husband as we exit the room. I feel emotion wrap around my throat, remembering that we're all in this together.
Uncertainty.
With determined fingers, I wrap them around Edward's hand. Remembering the feel of his touch. Remembering him.
Masen.
