Disclaimer: I own many things but the Twilight series is not one of them. All rights are deserved to Stephenie Meyers.
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Love in Affliction
Chapter Fourteen: The Letter
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January 1, 1896
Bella,
I do not intend to frighten you with this letter, but I merely feel the need to clarify the events that have occurred. First, I must apologize for the way I have acted and treated you so poorly. I was forward with you, but my affections remain true. I am intrigued by your very presence. At points you seem misplaced in our world, and I too understand the struggle that you endure. Your ambitions are enthralling, and it seems as if there is nothing you cannot do. You never cease to amaze me.
I know that you are probably scoffing at words of flattery, but all I have told you is true. I know I might have not been very clear and honest on certain aspects of my life, but everyone has their secrets. I did not wish to reveal my betrothal to you, for it was not part of my life. The situation was done so against my will, and neither lawyer nor my uncle can annul the words of my late father.
You see, I must explain a few things before I continue further. When I was younger, my father neglected me, forcing me into home-teaching or academies. My only true companions were my cousins, Rosalie and Jasper. Within time I was introduced to Elise Dervish of West Essex. Though it pains me to tell you so, I grew very affectionate with Miss Dervish, and I thought she returned my feelings.
I was very wrong. I will not bother you with lewd details, but Miss Dervish's promiscuous behavior forever scarred me. She had betrayed me so harshly, and she had the audacity to ask me for help in her time of need. Miss Dervish was with child and she beseeched for me to take her hand in marriage—to pawn off the child as my own. I refused her begging and sent her away. I felt guilty for leaving the child to be mothered by such a horrendous woman, but I could not do anything.
Miss Dervish had gone to extremes, for the next time I met her, no child was present. The scandal of Greenwich caught my ears about a woman with child who vanished. All that was left was a bottle of poison and a poorly developed fetus. I have never felt so angry in my life.
I tell you out of confidence, and I know that you will not betray me even though I have caused you the utmost pain. I have no excuse for my actions, but I can explain why I turned out to be cynical. I never had a mother to teach me the art of treating a young lady. I did not have parental affection, as you so boldly put it. Yes, I did have the opportunity, but I did not take the chance. I've been far too hurt by people, so I developed a hatred for the world and its people. I treated women like toys, but never once did I take what was not mine. I did not take it to the point where virtue was in question. I broke hearts, yes, but I did not feel. I was quite numb in those days.
The only people I deemed respectable were my close kin, Miss Brandon, and Lord McCarty. In the beginning, I found solace in my family, but not even their warm comfort could overshadow the loathing I had felt for Miss Dervish. All women were guilty by association. I saw it as, if one woman could break my heart so carelessly, then any could do so as well. I was resentful, and for that, I trusted no one.
I became paranoid. All I could hear are the snide remarks from mothers about how wealthy I was, and the name that I upheld. I did not see women as respectable—inside each one was a harlot after my assets. I created a philosophy that belonged to me. I even attempted to influence Jasper, but once I saw the deep ardency he felt for Miss Brandon, I bowed down and obliged.
I cannot explain how poorly I came to be. I cannot justify my actions and means, but this was the man who I was. I was so angry at the world and blinded by fury, that I did not see the true beauty that it birthed. I vowed to myself that I would not feel that way ever again—so I became a heart breaker. It was my job. To conceal my own insecurities, I wooed others to bring out their own.
You may be thinking at the point, why I have not revealed this to others. It is not in my nature to ruin another person. I do not dabble in idle gossip and speak ill of others, for I have seen karma work in mysterious ways. This is not the only reason why I kept my mouth shut for so long. I am naturally a selfish man. If I were to reveal Miss Dervish's escapades, my pride would take a serious hit. I would rather not damage my own reputation by spoiling another.
I did not love again—I could not. It was unfathomable. I went on to charm the hearts of women, but I never did come to the point of affection. No one seemed to fill that gaping hole; it was temporarily filled by these pretty girls. I had stopped caring for anyone who was not my kin. I did not care whether or not I hurt another person. I saw it fit that they should be punished for their thoughts and false proclamations of love. Perhaps some did feel for me, and perhaps others did not. That is all in the past, and I truly regret my position.
My story continues with my last flirt, the Countess of Loire. I was awfully bored with the sheer loneliness I felt, so I had left my estate and stayed with my kin in London. As fate would have it, I was captivated by these smoldering, cinnamon eyes. They were full of mirth and defiance; a witty charm. Her porcelain face seemed so fragile, but I knew beneath the exterior was a strong woman. She spoke with such knowledge, and personified grace.
I became in raptures with this wonderful, beautiful woman. I had become acquainted with her for only a few short days, and I put my entire trust in the palm of her hands. What I had sworn not to do had been done so unknowingly. I did not think it possible, but I found myself in love with her.
And on that blessed day, she joined in Yuletide merriment. As I played the piano, she sang the sweetest of melodies. Her voice was like the chiming of bells and reminded me of home. It was at that moment I could see her singing a lullaby to our children, whilst giving them a life neither she nor I ever had. She would be a magnificent mother, and most of all, a wonderful wife.
I cursed any man who talked to her. I did not want any other to intrude on the future I had so clearly foreseen in my mind. Perhaps she did not wish the same future as I had envisioned, but I would do anything to capture her heart as she had so easily captured mine. She had changed my point of view on all things. I no longer believed in my pitiful philosophies.
Within time, I had gained her trust, and on that New Year, many things were brought about. A new birth signaled a year of blooming. The Mistress of the spring fey had done her duty, and even so, from what I thought, her compassion for me had sparked as well. Though with the good, came the bad, and my karma had finally caught up with me. I had kept a secret from the woman I had so openly courted, and the demons from my past appeared.
And so here I am. I stand, waiting for your arrival to Brighton, and only hope is in my fortune. I know that nothing I may say can bring you to veracity, but I can only wish that you would be mine. I must finish up with my letter quickly. I see your haunted face approaching the school grounds. Maybe you will forgive me. Maybe you will turn me away. I will make a vow to you, however. I will not become bitter and sarcastic as I formally had been. I will not let your decision harden me into a cold-hearted person as Elise had done. That burden will not be placed on your shoulders.
All that Elise may have told you may not be true, but the betrothal was. I pursued you not to escape the contract. I would die a million deaths if that would please you. I would humiliate myself to the utmost extent if it could put a smile on your face.
You name what you wish, and you shall have it. I do not ask for your hand, for I know I am far too late, but I only ask your forgiveness. My feelings have not changed and they never will. I do not wish to cause you any more suffering than I already have, but this is all I can say and do. I have told you my side of the story, and within time, I hope these wounds will be healed. I have only one last thing to say to you, before I face my judgment.
Before God, I must say that I love you, Isabella Marie Swan, most ardently. May I be struck dead by the most torturous way possible if I shall be lying, but I know that nothing can be worse than living a life without your friendship and love. I will not influence you any more. The choice is yours—I swear of it.
Edward Anthony Cullen.
January 17, 1896
Her eyes glazed over, a blank expression appearing on her face. She read the letter once, twice, and then another to make sure she had comprehended all that was written. Dawning washed over her face, and the tears came once more. She felt every word pound in her heart most fervently. Her whole body began to tremble, a nervous wrack of sobs overcoming her.
Words seemed in vain, for neither Bella nor Alice knew what to say. Bella covered her eyes, sobbing loudly, whispering incoherent words. The words began to fade from the letter as the tears stained the paper, but they would never be forgotten. Edward's voice was forever etched in her memory, and she could just imagine how strained his face must have been.
She knew that it had all been true. Nothing further needed to be explained. Edward would not have taken the effort to make amends if he was not earnest. He did not even ask for her to return the fondness; only friendship. The hope he felt must have taken a devastating blow. She shuddered at the memory of his departure. The words she had screamed to him were said so maliciously.
But now she had seen why Edward had acted out. Though his reasons may not have been justified, Edward was only a boy. A boy in love. He was naïve and did not see worldly evil until he had his heart broken. He responded like any normal person would have—after all, he was only human.
"You were right." Bella wiped her face dry, staring at Alice grimly. "He was right, but I did not listen. I refused to believe anyone." Her eyes hardened slightly at the words. "I did not even believe you—my dearest friend—for that I am sorry."
Alice shook her head, clicking her tongue in response. "Do not apologize to me, Bella. It is hard to swallow the truth when you have been poisoned with such lies." She shifted her gaze to the letter, sighing. "When I heard it from Jasper, I did not know what to think. I was angry with Edward because I thought I had lost you as a friend. I sympathize what had happened to him, but he did not have the right to treat you ill."
"And to think I would have spent a simple holiday in Brighton," Bella laughed dryly. "I received more than I bargained for."
"But was that bargain worth it?"
"Very much so, yes."
Alice raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And are you willing to fight for what you want, Miss Swan?"
"I have fought quite enough." Bella arose from her cramped position on the floor, staring blankly out the window. "My will has been broken."
"You sound like a true maiden in love," Alice swooned, arising from the floor as well. She grinned at her friend and grabbed both of Bella's hands. "You will see, Bella. Things eventually fall into place."
Bella shrugged, as if she had not a care in the world. "Perhaps, but I will not depend on restitution."
"You are far too stubborn," Alice crooned. "Will you not let your heart speak for itself?"
"My heart has no words left. It cannot speak of love, for it has lost its will to do so. It is afraid to speak in fear of being hurt once more."
"Bella, I will tell you what my mother told me in my youth." Alice clasped the heart-shaped locket from around her neck, her sparkling blue eyes shining with delight. "Love is like a child. It makes bad choices, but it is sprung from innocence. Love knows not of what it does—that is why Cupid if often a symbol for passion. Though many mistakes are made when one is in love, the act of ardency itself is not wrong." She opened her hand, letting the locket fall next to her heart. Her gaze fell to Bella's, attempting to give her friend hope. "Your love for Edward is meant to be. He returns those feelings graciously. The love between the two of you is a child who has made a few mistakes…do not let that child fall over a quarrel."
Bella looked down at the letter in her hands, unsure of what to do. Her eyes savored what was left of Edward's handwriting, and caught the only legible phrase she could find. The choice is yours—I swear of it. She breathed in deeply, setting the letter upon the desk, and continued with her packing. The maids would be arriving soon to take away her things.
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Authoress Note: Okay, first of all, I was not originally planning on making this chapter. The letter was a basic recount of Edward's chapter so this might bore you. I was going to skip to the next part but so many of you said that you could not wait for the letter haha so I felt guilty. It is not that great, but here it is. Second, thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I know a few of you mentioned that it is "Catherine of Aragon", but I have read a few history books that established the name "Katherine of Aragon"—so I am sticking to that one.
My finals are steadily approaching so I must solely focus on those. I will update when I can and thank you for the few patient reviewers! You know who you are. I am currently writing the next chapter of In Love and Music and Sacrifice so I hope you all stay tuned.
If you have any questions, contact me! Much love.