A/N: Hey, guys! I know I was MIA last week. I had an "incident" of my own, that of a scratched cornea from which I thought I would die of pain. I didn't die, but the pain has definitely kept me from finishing this chapter. It still hurts, not as much, but…it still hurts, lol. So, instead of holding this chapter hostage until my full recovery, I've posted a shortened chapter. I'll try to finish the rest of it by late this week. :)

Thanks so much for your wonderful thoughts.

Some characters belong to S. Meyer, some belong to history, and some belong to me.

Chapter 13 – The Incident the Morning After

For the better part of a half hour, I have watched Isabella in her slumber, ever since the first, weak bands of dawn began their assault on the shuttered curtains. Daylight is hell-bent on disturbing the dark yet heavenly cocoon in which I am engulfed. I find prayer does not halt the sunrise. What's more, the rooster has joined the battle against me, and I see there is no point in fighting nature.

The inevitability of nature's course is a fitting thought as I look down at my wife. She is still fast asleep in my arms, with her soft lips and her wild head of silky dark curls upon my bare chest. Her warm arms wind 'round my waist and her smooth legs tangle with mine. All of it makes me wonder why I tried so hard to fight nature. In the past few days – or more accurately, in the past few months – I have progressed from wrestling with my feelings for Isabella, to acceptance, and aye, to treasuring the knowledge that my love for her is innate. 'Tis inborn in me to love her, some instinct buried deep and dormant until the moment I espied her in the assembly. 'Twas counterproductive to struggle, for one cannot resist what is native to one's soul.

When the damnable cock crows for the second time, my heart stills as I watch her for signs of waking. Yet, her breathing remains silent and even, her beautiful eyes shuttered, and her warm body motionless. I have had her three times since last evening; she is evidently exhausted. Nevertheless, I am torn between allowing her repose or waking her – to speak with her, to laugh with her, and aye, to love her.

When the cock crows a third time, I skim my nose up and down her cheek.

"Isabella, my love," I murmur. "Isabella."

My hand cups her breast, one finger circling the darkened pebble at its center while my other hand skims downward to her smooth, flat stomach. I picture my wife round with our child: a robust son or a beautiful, bold daughter born in a free nation – for I shall allow no less. Yet, the imaginings and the smile both give way to a prolonged intake of breath. Lost in thought, I have allowed my hand its continued wandering, and it now finds itself between her naked thighs.

"Lord Almighty," I breathe to myself, cupping her tenderly as memories of last evening inundate me. She is so tight and warm. When I bury myself within her, I am immersed in more heat than I ever thought imaginable. 'Tis like a beacon calling to me, one of which I do not believe I shall ever be sated.

"Isabella…"

Just as I determine to leave her be, the cock crows for the fourth and last time and my beloved's lips part in a long breath. When her bewitchingly dark eyes open, a smile forms on my own lips, for I guessed yesterday morn that the rooster's final crow might always precede her waking. It appears I was correct.

She greets me with a smile. "Good morning, Edward."

"Good morning, Isabella. Did you sleep well?"

"I slept as the dead must sleep; at least, for those few hours in which I slept."

"My love, are you sore?"

She nods, but the smile lingers. "I shall not deny I am. I daresay we are thoroughly man and wife now, as evidenced by both the long night and by where your hands currently rest."

I should not be disappointed, for I have had her three times. Yet, I must admit to myself, if not to her, that fleetingly, I am. 'Tis as if with every ensuing time we make love, I desire her all the more. Nevertheless, I am too joyful this morn to feel frustration more than transiently. Withdrawing my hands from her warm, soft places, I cradle her face and brush my lips to her forehead, her nose, and then, to her mouth before pulling back only enough to meet her eyes.

"I shall hunt for your pins as I promised last evening."

"So, you recall that promise? I had thought it said in the heat of passion to rid me of my garments."

"As you see, I do recall it, my impish wife," I smirk, running my fingers through her long hair as I have ached to do for weeks if not months. "When you are dressed, we shall go riding as you wished to this morning. That is…" I quirk an eyebrow, "if you are well enough to ride?"

She bites the inside of her cheek as I have learned she does when pondering. "I do long to ride my sweet mare. I believe I may be comfortable enough if I limit myself to riding Hope side-saddle this morning."

"Very well. Side-saddle you shall remain. Now, I shall get to locating those pins…"

As I attempt to lift myself off of her, Isabella wraps her arms 'round my shoulders. When she pulls my mouth to hers, we kiss passionately, our bodies tangling together. 'Tis the most decadent sensation I have ever imagined, not only that of being allowed to claim her in this manner but having her instigate it. Even more wonderfully, one of her hands trails down from my shoulder, further to my ribs, and then between us.

"Isabella, what are you about?" I whisper, smiling against her mouth as my chest heaves with hers.

"I am guiding you," she breathes.

Groaning, and utilizing more mental and physical restraint than I have ever employed, I force my hips still.

"You are sore, my love," I remind her.

"Shh." She finds what she searches and wraps her fingers 'round. At first, her grasp is hesitant and unsure. But when I moan into her mouth, she grips me with more confidence, at which point I drop my head to her shoulder, too helpless to do more than fall atop her.

"Isabella," I mouth against her neck, "I do not want to cause you more discomfort."

"'Tis not discomfort any longer, I promise you. What's more, with every instance, the sensation of having you within me grows more pleasurable. Edward, I shall never become completely accustomed to it if we do not continuously prac- Ohh."

My wife releases a long, shuddering breath, unable to say more as I fill her.

OOOOOOOOOO

About another half hour later, I am in my breeches and on hands and knees upon the floor, hunting for my wife's garment pins, all the while calling out for Leah. When I prick my finger with a wayward pin and yelp, Isabella laughs from where she awaits naked under the covers. Once all pins are located, I set them on the dresser, and once more call out for Leah.

"Edward, may I have my robe, please?" Isabella requests as I slide my arms into my shirt. "'Tis cold here without you. You shall find it hanging by the wardrobe."

With a smug smile, I pass her the pretty, silk garment. Even such a small privilege fills me with pride at being her husband in every way. 'Tis my right to pass my naked wife her robe. Afterward, I move to the door to call out for Leah.

"Where is she? We have not been locked in here long enough to go forgotten. Have we?"

My wife chuckles. Donning her robe, she sits at the edge of the bed. "The poor girl has probably fled the house, or at the very least determined never to show her face in this chamber again, with the way you chased her off last night."

Through the small mirror atop the dresser, I smirk as I pour water from the pitcher into the wash basin.

"After the evening we had, I cannot even regret frightening her." I grin shamelessly as I splash my face and use the rough cloth to rub the salt, chalk, mint, and cloves teeth cleanser mixture onto my teeth.

"You are incorrigible," she chastises with a snort. Yet, as I groom myself, she openly watches and admires me. "You do need a shave, Edward. I shall shave you after our ride, and every other time afterward." She states this as if she is claiming an exclusive privilege of her own.

Once I am done cleaning my face and teeth, I return to her side and kneel before her. My hands stroke her thighs; although, I ensure I keep them over her robe. Otherwise, we shall never leave these chambers.

"If you wish my grooming be your duty, I shall happily concede and look forward to it. But, may I help you dress, Isabella? I took your clothes off. 'Tis only fair I learn to put it all back on as well."

"That is true, but I would like to dress this morning, thank you very much. If left to your devices, your lack of skill combined with your lack of desire in the duty of dressing will leave me half-clothed 'til noon."

"You are maddening," I hiss, "but likely correct."

She shakes her head in mock disapproval before momentarily dropping her gaze. Nevertheless, I see her cheeks color.

"Truthfully, Edward," she whispers, "before I dress, I think I would like a warm bath to soothe certain…parts – if you do not mind waiting a bit longer for me to be ready?"

Taking her hand in mine, I kiss her palm and wait for her dark eyes to meet mine. "Of course, I do not mind. I shall go dress and then ask Mrs. Clearwater to heat water for the tub." Lifting myself upward, I find her mouth and gently move my lips with hers. "I love you, Isabella Cullen. Like my promise to find your pins, 'twas not merely said in a moment of passion."

She smiles against my mouth. "I am glad to hear it, for I love you as well, Edward Cullen."

'Tis in this manner of kissing and whispering endearments which we are found. When the doors open, a sharp gasp signals the end of our magnificent solitude.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" I hear Leah exclaim. "I shall return in a-"

"No, no, do not leave, Leah," I grin as with one final kiss, I pull away from my wife. "Isabella requires your assistance, since apparently, I am too much of a brute to do the duty."

My wife chuckles. "I did not call you a brute, Edward. Do not spread such rumors."

When I finally manage to pull my gaze away from her, I find Leah staring at us with her mouth slightly agape.

"A good morning to you, Leah. Did you sleep in today?"

By the way her eyes widen, she does not realize I am jesting. "Nay, sir. I did not wish to disturb you and the mistress too early. Therefore, I was tidying the spare room after Mister Jasper's use of it last evening-"

"Jasper slept here?"

"Aye, sir."

I slap my thigh. "Well, why did you not tell me that in the first place? It appears I have been needlessly concerned about him all night."

I genuinely have been concerned; although, one might not guess it based on the grin which refuses to leave my mouth. Nevertheless, despite this misplaced grin, Leah still does not seem to comprehend I am not truly chastising her.

"Because you said whosoever disturbed you and the mistress last evening would do so at their peril. And your father and Mister Jasper also said I should not disturb you. Then Mama said this morning I should wait to be called before coming to your chambers, and-"

"You did well, Leah. My husband and I are both grateful," Isabella says.

When I look at my wife, she gives me a reproving look, which I swiftly realize I deserve. Not only is Leah unaccustomed to all the rules I set up last evening, but she has never seen me in such a mood – such as the one in which I currently find myself after having spent all night bedding my wife. For years, the household has consisted of two bachelor men with no other real interests beyond those of our colonies' freedom from tyranny.

"Aye, my wife is correct," I grin more magnanimously, for Leah is almost like a younger sister to me, and truly, I do not aim to perturb her. "Thank you, Leah."

She nods and smiles in evident relief.

"Now, is Jasper still here?"

"Aye, sir. He is in the dining hall with your father, Jacob, Mister Emmett and Mistress Rosalie. I was in the kitchen helping Mama and could not hear you calling at first."

"That is fine," I repeat. Then, I turn back to my wife. "I shall join them downstairs. Take your time," I say gently, brushing my lips against her forehead. More firmly I add, "But when done, do make sure you come meet us in the dining hall, Isabella, for we shall be waiting for you."

She nods, and in her dark eyes, I see she comprehends my meaning.

"I shall meet you as soon as I am ready."

As I turn and head for the doors, I hear some of the women's conversation.

"Do not mind him, Leah. My husband finds himself in a…sportive sort of disposition this morning."

"I do not mind at all, Mistress Isabella. 'Tis good to see you both in a joyful mood." She catches herself and swiftly adds, "If you do not mind me saying."

"I do not mind at all," Isabella chuckles, as I chuckle quietly while shutting the door behind me.

OOOOOOOOOO

I cannot manage to rid myself of my grin even as I make my way down the staircase. I whistle as I 'round the halls. I sing to myself as I turn into the dining hall, from where I hear the usual voices.

Yankee Doodle is the tune
We sing to build a nation;
For God's own glory is with us,
And with the Brits damn…nay…tion…

The final word of the verse is perhaps elongated and stressed more than usual when I catch sight of everyone. They are indeed gathered 'round the table, as usual. But that is the only thing which is typical. For a handful of seconds, Jasper and I merely lock eyes, for I have known him since I was a lad. We need not many words.

"How long before we must depart?"

"Preferably by early afternoon. We must reach Fort Ticonderoga within the week."

"Fort Ticonderoga?"

"Aye, Edward. We must-"

"Jasper, give me a moment. I must speak with Mrs. Clearwater."

I make my way into the kitchen, where Mrs. Clearwater is busy pounding dough over the wooden table. When she senses my approach, she turns and gives me a melancholic sort of smile.

I rest a hand on her shoulder. "Good morning, Mrs. Clearwater. If you please," I murmur, "my wife requires hot water for a bath to…to…"

"'Tis already waiting in the tub for her," Mrs. Clearwater replies softly, "nice and warm, and with bathing oils Miss Rosalie has provided meant to soothe."

"Thank- thank you," I stutter, my face as hot as the fire in the hearth.

She lifts a floured hand and pats my cheek. "No need for bashfulness, my boy. I have cared for you since your dear mama – the Lord bless her soul – passed, and I am happy to know you have found a woman who can keep you thinking, for I always knew 'twas the sort of wife you would one day require." She leans in and whispers, "Not like that Miss Katrina – that one would have agreed the sky was green had you said so." Despite her words, there is clear sadness in her ensuing sigh. "You go do what you must. We shall take care of the mistress."

"Thank you," I repeat, smiling weakly at her before I make my way out of the kitchen, furiously wiping flour from my face.

A/N: Thoughts?

I'll try to post the rest by the end of the week, if this cornea cooperates, lol. If not, have a great weekend!

Twitter: PattyRosa817

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***Brief History Lesson For Those Who Are Interested***

The Capture of Fort Ticonderoga:

Even before shooting started in the American Revolutionary War, American Patriots were concerned about Fort Ticonderoga. The fort was situated on the shores of Lake Champlain, a strategically important route between the Thirteen Colonies and the British-controlled northern provinces of Canada. British forces placed there would expose the colonial forces in Boston to attack from the rear. The fort was a valuable asset for several reasons. Within its walls was a collection of heavy artillery including cannons, mortars, and armaments that the Americans had in short supply. After the war began with the Battles of Lexington and Concord on April 19, 1775, British General Thomas Gage realized the fort would require fortification, and several colonists had the idea of capturing the fort.

Benedict Arnold frequently traveled through the area around the fort, and he was familiar with its condition, manning, and armaments. When Arnold arrived outside Boston, he told the Massachusetts Committee of Safety about the cannons and other military equipment at the lightly defended fort. On May 3, the Committee gave Arnold a colonel's commission and authorized him to command a "secret mission", which was to capture the fort. He was issued £100, some gunpowder, ammunition, and horses, and instructed to recruit up to 400 men, march on the fort, and ship back to Massachusetts anything he thought useful.

We shall meet Benedict Arnold and learn a bit more regarding the Capture of Fort Ticonderoga in the next chapter. :)