Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does. Scotland's possible historical theories are based on research documented on Cameron Taylor's and Allistair Murray's On the Trail of the Real MacBeth; King of Alba.No copyright infringement is intended. I only sprinkle it with Egyptian sand.
Author's Note: We are at homestretch here tomb robbettes, I anticipate a couple more chapters and an epilogue. *sniff* Continued thanks to Lilith617 for her unwavering support and for giving Egyptward the words to express his rage…you'll see. Enjoy!
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~*EPOV*~
A cold sweat broke over me, as I took in the packed-to-the-hilt lecture hall. I would present my paper shortly, after O'Neal, but that wasn't the reason why I felt the tornado in my stomach. I was nervous about my next encounter with Isabella Swan. She apparently was speechless about what she learned about me from DeClercq.
Fuck!
How many times did I try to tell her? Wait, did I? Would she have believed me? Would things have changed between us? She appeared as though she had lost the map to the next oasis in the desert. Would she treat me differently? Would our heated exchanges end?
My knee started bobbing up and down, and my seat started to make a noise that made Emmett raise an eyebrow- I needed to see her. She must be confused, and if I know Isabella Swan, I know she would find a way to make herself accountable in some way.
Emmett shoved my ribs. "Come on; let's get some fucking fresh air. You are starting to look green."
Finally, intermission; I was up next!
I could only nod at Emmett, as I followed him out of the lecture hall. Out of my periphery I noted that fucking Crowley was here following DeClercq, like a puppy, outside. Emmett and I were waiting for Jasper in the lecture hall's foyer when we heard some shouting outside. We followed the noise out, and saw Reverend Newton with Professor Banner.
"What's all the shouting about?" Crowley asked DeClercq.
The Vicar's colorful swearing had drawn everyone's attention out of the discussions most historians have during intermission. The commotion was a fine diversion; there was so much I could discuss of Professor O'Neal's droning discourse on Etruscan musical instruments.
"I'm not quite sure, exactly," DeClercq answered, as Emmett and I joined them at the edge of the milling crowd. "From the sounds of it, the Vicar was first upset about an act of vandalism at the church, but he seems to have gone off on a new tangent."
"Impudent Sassenach wench!"
My attention was more on the men who'd come out of the hall with Spiros, than on the angry giant, who was mad as a wet hen at somebody. This was the second mob scene of the day, and I suspected Bella was somehow again involved.
Where the fuck was Jasper?
"What's a Sassenach?" Emmett asked with a loud laugh.
More importantly, who were the men with Spiros? Were they the Hoplite fanatics Jasper had warned me about? As if the existence of a two thousand year old secret order didn't imply fanaticism in all its members. There was a certain amount of honor and trust built up between Jasper and I, and he had convinced me that he would never do anything to harm Alice or Rose Swan. That wasn't very reassuring when it came to Bella's fate, but knowing the girls were safe gave me less to worry about.
I knew Jasper would give me at least a few more days to find the treasure. Before I'd completely lost my head last night, I had come to the conclusion that the treasure was not hidden anywhere inside the museum. I'd carefully explored the central display room Swan was setting up to hold the treasure, but the crown, cup and other grave goods were not in the building. That was not good news for me, meaning it might ultimately be very bad news for Bella. She was too clever by half. I couldn't help but smile at the thought and be furiously frustrated, as well.
Just like last night, I had completely lost my head. I had hardly slept, I kept thinking about her delicious pouty lips on mine, knowing that I'd be forever addicted to her taste.
Honey and fire.
Her soft curves molded perfectly against mine. God, she had met my passion with blossoming desire, her body moved restlessly against me, and the air around us had charged with the energy of a thousand torches, pulsing to the rhythm of my pounding heart.
She did this to me.
She alone.
I was hers.
Good God, man! Keep it together. Right.
Above all else, Jasper wanted to keep his secret society secret, but the newcomers stood out like sore thumbs. The men who flanked Spiros were large, furtive-looking, and obviously out of place in their ill-fitting suits. They looked like street thugs, not university students. The Hoplites' ancestors had been members of Alexander's elite bodyguard, and this pair looked to be direct descendants of a couple of very hard-bitten soldiers.
"Presumptuous slut!" the Minister ranted on, "daring to strike a man of the cloth."
"What's he on about?" Crowley asked Emmett.
"I believe that at first it was because some vandals knocked over some gravestones in the cemetery. He tends to slip into the local dialect when he's excited," he laughed.
Crowley ventured to approach the angry Vicar. "Sir? Reverend? Perhaps if you would-"
"That chit struck me! What do they teach women in the outside world? I won't have loose women invading Muirford."
"Miss Swan was deeply upset about the desecration in the graveyard," Banner explained.
Just like I suspected, Bella was involved. That woman was a magnet for mischief.
"Bella has firm opinions about grave robbing," I agreed, half my attention still on the Hoplites in the back of the crowd.
So, Bella was not safely ensconced up in the visitor's gallery…
"Miss Swan was a bit brusque with Reverend Newton when he wouldn't allow her to leave the building-"
"So she pushed him out of the way," I concluded.
Of course she did.
"The man was rude not to let the lady pass. Poor Miss Swan probably needed some fresh air after hearing about such gruesome matters," Crowley suggested.
"The woman's been excavating graves since you were a pup," I snapped. "I'll thank you to give her the respect she deserves, you young fool."
"Wicked strumpet!" Newton raved on, red-faced with fury.
That was fucking it! My blood boiled with fury, as a reddened haze consumed my vision. I had had enough. I would not stand idle no more.
I stepped up to the huge vicar. "Strumpet?" I asked voice low and dangerous. "No one calls my woman that."
Piggy-eyes focused on me. "I'll call-"
One hard punch to the jaw laid the big man out.
Many people in the crowded foyer gasped. DeClercq and Cullen hooted with laughter and clapped in approval. I shook my bruised hand and gave my supporters a wry shrug.
Crowley stepped up to me and said quietly, "I haven't a snowball's chance in hell with Miss Swan, have I?"
I looked him squarely in the eye. "None, whatsoever."
The sooner you fucking realize that the better, kid.
I glanced away from Crowley and into the crowd, Spiros was still there, but his companions were gone. I swore under my breath, fuck, stepped over the supine Reverend Newton, and ran from the building.
As always, towards Bella…Always towards Bella.
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"Thought I'd find you here."
"Hello, Edward." She wasn't surprised to hear me.
"It's an old graveyard," I said, coming up behind Bella, placing my hand on her shoulder.
I had to touch her.
She was looking down into a disturbed grave; quite a few moss-covered head stones lay scattered about around us, and it was hard to tell which ones had fallen over by themselves, and which had been pushed down by the vandals. The place had an abandoned look to it, tucked away as it was in a stand of woods near the old stone church. Mausoleums stood on either side of the cemetery. The one to the left was worn, abandoned-looking little building that could have dated back to the middle ages. The tomb on the right was brand-spanking new, polished white stone with a bronze door, flanked by carved figures of weeping angels. A statue of a kilted warrior brandishing a claymore stood guard on top of its roof, Sir Michael's future resting place, I presume.
After silence stretched out a few seconds more, and Bella's shoulder grew tense beneath my touch, I spoke again. Uncertain and nervous for what seemed a long time. "Not as old as we're used to, perhaps…"
She didn't answer, and I fucking tried to not concentrate on the spot of smooth, bare skin that showed at the nape of her neck, between the collar of her dress and the thick twist of hair firmly pinned behind her head. Had I ever kissed her on that lovely, vulnerable spot? No, I don't believe I had. There were a great many places I haven't kissed. Her ears, for example. She had lovely, small, pink ears. I wonder if the arch of her foot was erotically sensitive, or the base of her spine. I tried unsuccessfully to suppress my deep groan. It had been a waste of ten long years, when I could have been exploring the sweet secrets of her lovely body.
A fucking waste of time as I thought of how I claimed her mine in my tent. Fuck, you are getting distracted.
Get a grip, Masen!
I shifted my gaze carefully around the silent graveyard, alert to any noise or movement. I'd half hoped there'd be a crowd of outraged villagers here investigating the damage, but the entire community seemed to be shopping at the village market. Of course, if I hadn't cold-cocked the Vicar, the man might have gone off and informed his flock of the outrage to their ancestors. I hadn't seen either Spiros' friends on the way to the cemetery, and I couldn't see them lurking among the trees or headstones now, but that didn't mean they weren't there. Come to think of it…
"And why are you here?" I asked Bella.
She sighed and slipped from my grasp to turn and face me. "I wanted to see the damage for myself. All this vandalism is starting to worry me."
She looked almost frightened, so unlike Bella. I put my hands on her shoulders and drew her closer, wanting to put my arms around her and draw her closer still. "You haven't accused me of the vandalism yet. You might feel better if you did," I joked.
I'd hoped she'd laugh, but my words managed to draw only a faint smile from her. "You're not on my list of suspect's angel."
"Angel," I answered her smile with one of my own. It had been so long since I heard her call me that.
"Haven't heard that from your lips in a long time. You and Alice-"
"Alice – the evil pixie – is fond of you," she laughed, lightly.
I wanted to ask if she was fond of me, even just a little but I was afraid of the answer.
"It seemed like the right thing to call you," she went on. "For several reasons," she muttered.
This sounded interesting. I bet I can make her fluster and blush that delicious pink. I cocked my head teasingly to one side, "Like what?"
It worked. She blushed, and I could not help but lean in towards that blush. "You always seemed larger than life to me. Heroic," she whispered. Her blush deepened, and I swear I felt the heat of it on my skin.
"But angel?" I gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Hardly."
"I was rather young when my first impression of you was formed."
"Too young to know better," I agreed, and decided to move to safer ground. "You're the one who's the hero, Isabella."
I hadn't let a little thing like not being wanted at the Amorgis excavation get in my way. I went to the dig site, and had been getting nothing but hostile looks from Bella all day. Charlie didn't dare try to have me expelled from the area in case he made a scene in front of the man Swan depended on for financing; so Swan tried his best to pretend that I didn't even exist. The first thing I had done was strike up a conversation with Swan's rich patron, of course, it turned out that Sir Michael Muir was a smart, hardheaded businessman, and I was from a family of hardworking, practical businessmen. We had far more in common than an aesthete nobleman with pretentions of scholarship. So, when the workers cleared the last of the rubble away from the tomb entrance, and Swan approached his patron to invite him to be the first to enter, I managed to wrangle an invitation to join his new friend in his moment of triumph.
Swan looked like he was ready to explode, but he didn't complain.
I was gleeful – for about six seconds. That was how long it took before I looked at Bella and saw how his vindictiveness had spoiled this moment for her. I might have backed down, made some excuse to Muir, but Charlie sneered and Bella turned her back on me, and I had to go through with it.
Sir Michael and I took up lanterns and made our way into the dark, stone-lined underground chamber. The trap we walked into had been laid two thousand years before, but it was triggered with exact precision all the same. The noise was horrendous when the walls collapsed and the darkness came down, but I could have sworn I heard a distant voice call out, "Edward!"
It was the memory of that voice that I hung on to all those painful, terrifying hours later, trapped in absolute darkness.
And when the last stone was pulled away, and the light came back into my world again, that familiar voice is what I heard first, "Edward, talk to me angel."
The second was the feel of her hands soothing the hair of my brow. The third, the taste of her tears. And lastly, I saw the bloody cuts on her gentle hands.
"You saved my life," I told her now, coming back from that nightmare that had ended with the heavenly bliss of Bella Swan holding me in her arms. I owed her my life, and far more – she, who had never asked me for anything.
I didn't know when I had moved so close to her, but her face was tilted up appealingly as she answered, "I wasn't the only one involved in your rescue."
"But you're the one who wouldn't let the diggers stop even after two days, when they insisted it was hopeless."
"I knew you weren't dead," she whispered.
I found that I was holding her face cupped in my hands, her skin a warm satin against my palms. "How?"
"I…just knew." Her words were breathy; her lips so very close to mine.
There was a look in Bella's dark, beautiful eyes that I had never seen before. Familiar but strange, raw and honest. Terrifying. Alluring. Lord knew what she saw in my eyes, I had never felt so naked myself, not even on that long-ago night. My limbs felt oddly heavy, my heart ached, and my lids drooped languidly closed. Caught in a dark spell, I could only succumb to undeniable need. My lips brushed against hers, a gentle, feather-light touch- almost a memory, almost a wish.
It was not wishful thinking when I pulled her tightly against me. We fitted too perfectly, yielding and firm in all the right places. The kiss moved swiftly from gentleness to hunger, sweet, deep, and frantic.
And over far too quickly.
We both heard the noise from behind a nearby headstone, and both reacted with equal swiftness, whirling out of our tight embrace, our already heightened senses alert for danger. We stood back to back a split second later, our gazes scanning the graveyard.
"See anything?" I asked, my breath ragged but my tone sharply alert.
"No"
"Probably a stray cat."
"Or the sexton returning, more likely," Bella answered, remembering where we were and what had happened. She stepped reluctantly away from my back, then walked to the rusty iron fence surrounding the churchyard, and gazed up the lane toward the village. "Reverend Newton and his flock approach."
Bella stood stiff and still while I did a quick circle around the headstones and mausoleums. "Time we were gone, I think," I said, joining her by the gate. "The good reverend might sic a lynch mob on both of us if we're here when he arrives."
"I was rather rude to him, "she admitted.
"You and I both, sweetheart."
Bella stepped through the gate. I lingered just inside the graveyard, with some distance between us, she said. "We really should not have done that."
I put my hands behind my back and contemplated her. My expression serious, jeez she should really narrow it down. I raised an eyebrow, "There are several things we should not have done. Which are you referring to?"
This was hardly the time for conversation. Besides, she seemed very much for both of us to be away from the cemetery. Don't blame her, I didn't want to face and deal with Reverend Newton and his mob.
"I have duties, Dr. Masen. And you have a paper to give. Go dazzle the masses, Edward."
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"You don't look good." I realized what I'd said even before Bella turned a cutting look at me. "That's a nice dress, but it doesn't suit you at all," I added hastily. She was wearing a very feminine pale yellow and blue print frock with ribbon and lace trim.
My bluntness, apparently, drew a smile from her. "Rose will be happy to hear that. It's hers."
I had told myself that I was not going to bother with the party at the museum; I was going to spend the evening searching for the treasure. The sooner it was found, the sooner Bella would be safe, and the sooner I could leave. Right? That was the plan.
After I had given my paper, my companions urged me to celebrate with dinner at the hotel. I had finally saw Jasper, he was reluctant to unveil that he had walked the Swan ladies home soon after O'Neal's discourse.
My dinner companions asked for my company to the museum with them, they were all anxious to see this preview exhibit- I only wanted to see Bella, and she was the first I saw. Standing by a column near the door, looking weary and distracted and utterly lovely – even if I preferred her in the simple, severe practical garb I was used to seeing her wear. The sight of Bella Swan standing in the sun always sent a shiver of desire through me. She'd be wearing a plain brown walking skirt, her slender waist, and high round breasts outlined by a tailored white shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat would be shadowing the precise angles of her cheekbones, her jaw and the lovely width of her mouth. Wearing that plain outfit, she was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. The way she looked in a split riding skirt and a pith helmet was devastating- especially if she was carrying a rifle.
Good god, I was hardening again.
There was something utterly scorching about a heavily armed Isabella Swan. No matter what she did or wore, Bella of the perfect posture and brisk, economical movements, Bella the unconsciously graceful, was a glorious sight that left me more in awe than any view of the Pyramids.
I should have told her, I thought, regret boiling in me. I should have just opened my mouth and told her.
Except she wouldn't have believed me. Hell, a good part of the time I was too much of a fool to believe it myself. I'd let anger, hurt, and pride get in the way early in our relationship, and it became habitual, almost comforting. It was easier to work at provoking her ire than at redeeming the sins of the past. It was a pity we had no future together. Fate was a bitch with an ironic sense of humor, and fate dictated that in order to save Bella I must betray her. Again. The worst, damnably painful irony of all was that this final betrayal came when I was finally man enough to acknowledge the passion for her that had never died.
It was a good thing that we were in a crowd, I decided, even if we were on the fringes of it. I gestured toward the center of the hall, where Charlie Swan and Sir Michael Muir stood at the head of the mummy case. Swan was holding forth importantly while his audience stared at the shriveled, linen-wrapped figure inside the heavy glass. "The princess is attracting most of the attention, I see."
"She hasn't gotten out much in the last few millennia," She answered. "She deserves a bit of fussing over. She is a princess, after all – or so I've decided to believe. We didn't find her with the grave good, if you recall, but in a separate tomb nearby."
"Rather like you didn't find Alexander's grave goods with him, but you did find them? That was the rumor I heard on Amorgis while I was recovering. But let's not talk about the treasure," I added, as her expression went blank and her eyes turned hard.
I placed my hand over my heart. "I don't want to talk about your secret find. I'll be content to wait for the grand exhibit at the end of the conference to see what you really found."
And if that should happen, I would be a complete fail...no! I cannot think that way; I would run, run away with her and keep her away from Jasper.
"Charlie," she hissed. "What Charlie found."
"We don't have to lie between us, Bella," I snarled.
She opened her mouth, and I was certain she was going to say Yes, we do, but she closed her mouth and took a deep breath instead. When she did speak, it was to say, "Dr. DeClercq admires you a great deal."
"And you admire him. So now you think you have to admire me?" I stepped closer to her. She backed up a step, and we ended with the pillar between us and the crowded center of the hall. "You don't have to admire me if you don't want to, Bella. You really don't."
"I can't very well take back what I heard this morning, can I? I can't take back the whole day, though I wish I could."
"Should I apologize for kissing you? Would that help?"
"No."
"It wouldn't change what happened," I retorted. What the fuck? Was kissing me so bad? "And I'm not sorry I did it. You ought to be kissed more often, Bella." By only me, I added silently.
"Why?"
Her genuine puzzlement made me smile; it was not a mocking smile, despite the thunderous frown she gave me. "What's the matter? You seem too tired to even get a good argument going. Just how bad a day has it been?"
I stepped back and ticked off points on my fingers. "No sleep. DeClercq. The rude Reverend."
"You know about that?"
"You didn't answer my question. Let's see, you're worried that the history department will somehow be blamed for the vandalism in the graveyard. I kissed you, what else went wrong with your day?"
"Something much worse than being kissed by you," she confided.
Fear shot through me for a moment, as it occurred to me that she knew the Hoplites were after her. Then I had a moment's hope that the Hoplites had recovered their treasure and she was upset because it was missing. No, if the treasure was gone, she'd have accused me of the crime by now. A quick glance around the pillar assured me that none of the Hoplite contingent was nearby- Spiros and Jasper were with the rest of the guests. The group was on the move, following Charlie the short distance from the center of the hall to the tall case holding the jewelry and other small treasures.
I turned my attention back to Bella. "What is worse than kissing me?" I growled. "Did dear old dad find out about our indiscretion in the graveyard?"
She put her hand across her delicious lips for a moment, hiding a smile, but I saw a faint bit of humor in her eyes. It faded too fast. "For a moment I thought he had," she admitted, and giggled. "When he came storming into the house and demanded to see me in the library, I thought, Oh dear, it's the convent for me!"
"Good thing you're not Catholic. What was his problem?"
"Macbeth," she answered, flatly.
"The play?"
"The king. The real one"
"Macbeth's real?"
"Yes. Apparently he was king of Scotland sometime in the eleventh century. Ruled from the Hebrides or the Orkneys or some other cold, remote islands up off the north coast."
"Really?" I was intrigued.
"Yes. According to Sir Michael, Macbeth and his lady wife were great rulers, much maligned by the English in recent centuries. They never murdered anyone they didn't absolutely have to."
"Fancy that."
"I don't. At all. I could not care less about Macbeth. And Charlie certainly has no interest in leading an expedition to find artifacts and evidence of Macbeth's kingship." She leaned back against the pillar, sighing tiredly. "But, your friend, Mr. Whitlock suggested to Sir Michael that he should fill the museum with Scottish historical treasures, since, after all, the museum is in Scotland. Sir Michael was so taken with the notion that he wants Father to leave for the Hebrides or the Orkneys or wherever the bloody hell Macbeth lived as soon as absolutely possible."
I was speechless. Is that where Jasper was all day?
"So while finding out that you are a fine upstanding citizen is a disaster of monumental proportions, it pales in comparison to discovering that I am about to be exiled to a remote island in the North Sea, where I will conduct research I care nothing about, on a period I know nothing about. Where the sky will be constantly gray, where it will snow on a mid-summer's day-" A tear spilled from her eye and rolled slowly down her cheek, I brushed it away with a gentle forefinger before handing her a handkerchief from my coat pocket.
"And you will never see Egypt again," I finished for her. "Or Greece. And you will hate every moment of this exile."
And you will never see me again.
She sniffed, but no more tears came. "Precisely."
From Jasper's point of view, this was a brilliant move. I might have thrown back my head and cackled in glee at the notion of Charlie Swan's being exiled to the Hebrides, except that for Bella this was indeed a disaster. The Swan family lived on the income from a bit of property, a small legacy from the great-grandfather who'd been an Earl, and whatever salary Charlie Swan secured by procuring antiquities for Sir Michael Muir. What little they had was completely in Charlie's control, and his daughters were dependent on him. Where he went, they went, especially Bella. Oh, yes, most especially Bella. Even if she would be loathing to admit it, Charlie Swan knew for years that he was nothing without his brilliant, eldest daughter.
She crumbled the square of linen in her fingers. "What am I to do, Edward?"
Her desperation tore at me, so did the realization that this was the first she'd ever asked anything of me. Everything in me cried out with the need to help her, to hold her, protect her. It clenched a fist around my heart and burned like a fever in my brain. Only one solution immediately presented itself, and I blurted it out before I could stop myself. I didn't hear my own words.
She looked at me strangely. "What are you talking about?"
I didn't know. The words were coming out, but I didn't feel in control of them. The impulse to protect Bella had taken over and was running riot with my tongue. "Marriage," I said, firmer now, more assured. "Have you ever thought of marriage?"
She stared up at me in confusion. "For who?"
"For you, of course."
"I don't have time for marriage! And who would want to marry me?"
"I wanted to marry you."
"When?" she asked, her eyes wide with emotion.
Before I could answer, Lady Angela, on the other side of the room, shouted, "That's my necklace! In that case!"