Ok! Quite a response to that last chapter! Can you all handle it? I promise not to keep Bella and Edward apart FOREVER, but I've got some more storytelling to do in the meantime…hope you don't mind. But seriously, this is like a chick flick – it all works out in the end.
A little "hee hee" to everyone who caught the "lemon" joke in the last chapter, too. I must confess, however, that joke was my husband's idea, so props to him. Also, it was his idea to have Bella and Edward dance in the library aaaand he even wrote one paragraph in that last chapter. I swear, he's straight! And (mostly) normal. Actually, he's just kind of awesome. Sigh.
So, seriously, to those who had major heartfail at the last chapter, have faith. I mean this is Edward and Bella FANFIC, after all. I'm not going to totally screw with you!
In other period drama news, if you didn't watch Downton Abbey this last month then FIND IT ON THE INTERNET AND WATCH IT. I'm thinking of making it a prerequisite to reading this story… No, really, it's just too good to not watch it and I'm so psyched that there is another season in the works! I had no idea!
And ALSO – listen up! A new version of Jane Eyre has been made with Mia Wasikowska (from Alice in Wonderland) and it looks gooooooood. You can find the trailer on YouTube - I won't try to put a link here because it doesn't work on Fanfiction. Just look it up, it's easy to find. I absolutely love Jane Eyre and it was a BIG inspiration for this story (and, I do believe, a favorite of the lovely Stephenie Meyer). The house in Jane Eyre was called Thornfield Hall, I created Wrenfield Hall, not a coincidence, the man in JE is named Edward, it was written by Charlotte Bronte, my name is Wannabe Charlotte, also not a coincidence… Plus it just has that great "Lord of the Manor" and "the help" romance (upstairs, downstairs), the poor orphaned girl with pluck and smarts, and it's just AWESOME. I aspire to be one fiftieth as amazing as Charlotte Bronte. One one hundredth, maybe.
This is a bit of a short chapter but it sort of ended itself where it ends, so…yeah. It is what it is.
OK! Wow! Longest author note ever! If you made it to the end of this, then thanks! You're dedicated.
Chapter Twenty-oneBella stared at Edward and Miss Winters on the stairs as her body turned to ice and her ears started to ring. She leaned her trembling hand against the doorjamb for a moment, hoping the dizziness would pass, but it only worsened. As her vision narrowed, she suddenly felt a strong arm supporting her and guiding her quickly down the hallway.
"Let's get you out of here," whispered Bradford. She stumbled once but finally made it below stairs with Bradford's assistance, where she then waved him off and rushed out the back door alone.
The cold air hit Bella's damp face and the ringing in her ears began to subside. She sat down on a bench and lowered her head to her knees, trying not to think about what she had just seen.
But the image came rushing back…Miss Winters, gripping Edward's arm with delight on her face, her father's satisfied look, and Edward…Edward just standing there passively…her Edward…
The dizziness returned forcefully and suddenly Bella found herself on her knees heaving violently on the ground. Horrified, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve, then pulled herself up and rushed blindly into the darkness. A blanket of new snow was on the ground and Bella sank to her knees, scooping up a handful of snow to clean her mouth and face.
For several minutes, Bella sat numbly as the snow melted through her dress and crept into her shoes. She felt utterly alone.
But as the minutes ticked by, the chaos in her mind began to clear and she began to sort through her thoughts.
She didn't understand what had happened. Not fifteen minutes had passed between that blissful waltz in the library and the horror of the announcement in the front hall. What had Mr. Winters said to Edward? How could everything have changed so quickly? A sudden thought pierced her brain – what if Edward had never meant it at all? What if he never had any intention of marrying her? He never said he wanted to marry her, not in those words. He had said things would be different, he was tired of hiding…but never that he actually would marry her.
The grief that had gripped her heart so painfully minutes before was slowly replaced with humiliation, numbness…and the beginnings of anger.
Bella stood, shaking off the wet snow that clung to her dress and apron in clumps. She breathed deeply, composing herself as she heard her name called in the darkness.
"Bella! Bella!" shrieked Lizzie from the back steps.
"I'm here," Bella called quietly, stepping into the yellow light that streamed from the open door.
"Oh for gracious sake, come in here! You'll catch your death," fussed Lizzie as she caught sight of Bella, bedraggled and wet.
"Come straight upstairs," said Lizzie, whisking her inside and past the kitchen door where several of the staff stared in open curiosity.
Upstairs, Bella stared woodenly as she allowed Lizzie to strip her of her cold wet clothes and cover her quickly with a dry nightgown.
"Here," Lizzie ordered as she pulled back the covers and steered Bella into the narrow bed. Despite Lizzie's best efforts, Bella sat upright in her bed, so Lizzie tucked the quilt firmly around her waist and then took the red wool coverlet from the end of the bed to drape around her shoulders.
"No!" said Bella suddenly. Lizzie stopped.
"Not that blanket," Bella said more quietly. "I'll have my shawl, please."
Lizzie obliged and took the shawl from the nail on the back of the door. After a moment, Bella's shivering stopped and Lizzie sat on the edge of her bed.
"I saw it, too," said Lizzie, quietly. "I don't understand…"
Bella nearly laughed, but a sob caught in her throat. She swallowed hard and started again.
"No. I don't understand it either," she said. "I don't know what happened." She turned to her friend with wide eyes that managed to look empty while simultaneously filling with tears.
"Lizzie, not fifteen minutes before he asked me to the library, alone, and we danced…we danced…"
Her voice broke and she lowered her head.
"It was…I thought he meant it all…but maybe I just heard what I wanted to hear…but I was so sure…and the things he said…and how it felt when we were together…and…I just…I…"
Bella raised her head and looked at Lizzie, her eyes pleading for answers.
"Lizzie!" she whispered desperately. "What happened? I'm so…" and she began to cry in her friend's arms.
A soft knock came at the door and both women looked up.
"Who is it?" Lizzie asked fiercely.
"It's Mrs. Cope," came the reply.
Lizzie stood and opened the door for Mrs. Cope who came in with a cup of tea and a slice of bread and butter on a tray.
"Here, dear," said Mrs. Cope, setting the tray down on the bedside table and reaching over to give Bella a kiss on the top of her head. She looked at Bella's wet cheeks and pulled a clean handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to her.
"Thank you," muttered Bella as she mopped her face, then pulled her knees up to her face, wrapping her hands around her legs.
"Argh! I'm such a fool!" Bella suddenly exclaimed in frustration, shaking her head in disgust. "I want to believe it was all some sort of misunderstanding, but I know it couldn't be. He stood there while Mr. Winters announced her engagement and he didn't contradict him. It's true! He's going to marry her, and I had myself convinced he loved me. I'm such a fool!" she repeated, her voice shaking and her eyes threatening to spill over with tears again.
Mrs. Cope crossed her arms and looked as angry as the sweet-faced woman possibly could.
"I don't think you were a fool. Trusting, perhaps, and open to love, but there's no shame in that. No, I think the shame lies entirely elsewhere."
For a moment, the three women were silent with their thoughts. Then Mrs. Cope spoke.
"I'm awfully sorry, dear, but I have to get back to the kitchen. Lizzie, stay here with her. Bradford and I will cover for you."
Lizzie nodded.
"Bella," Mrs. Cope said. "Dear, I won't pretend I know what to say to you. This is just a wretched situation, it truly is. But know I think you're wonderful, because you are."
Bella sniffed noisily and nodded her thanks and watched Mrs. Cope go.
An hour later, Bella lay wide awake in her bed as Lizzie lay snoring at her feet. Bella didn't blame her – they were all exhausted and she had tried valiantly to stay awake with Bella, but Bella had feigned sleep and Lizzie wasn't too far behind.
She knew she couldn't stay here. Every minute that she remained under his roof the pain clawed at her heart, and she was simultaneously hoping for and dreading the possibility that he might come see her tonight when his guests had gone. She knew she had to go.
She woke Lizzie and sent her to sleep in her own room, claiming that the bed was too crowded for the both of them. Lizzie protested but eventually went to her own small room down the hall.
As soon as Lizzie was gone, she changed into her weekend dress and packed her small case with the meager remains of her wardrobe and her scant possessions. It took all of ten minutes to pack her case.
She stripped the bed and neatly folded the quilt. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then added Lady Elizabeth Masen's folded red wool coverlet to the top of the quilt. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare still sat on her bedside table and there it remained. She would take no reminder of Lord Masen with her, save the wounds to her heart.
But she would take the hair ribbons and gloves from Alice. She did not have so many friends that she could – or would want to – discard a friend just because of her associations.
Within twenty minutes, she was ready to leave Wrenfield Hall, case in hand. For a moment she stood in the silent room, surveying the bare walls and dresser top. The room was thick with memories of Edward – the night he brought her tea, reading together, long hours of conversation, playing chess, sharing a sweet roll, their first kiss…
Bella shook her head, determined to leave it all behind. She turned, fighting tears, and walked out the door, closing it firmly behind her.
-xxx-
The clock in St. Mary's village struck two as Bella approached the darkened vicarage. The two mile walk from Wrenfield Hall had left her exhausted and freezing and feeling even lower than when she had left. The carriages leaving the ball had rolled past her and every time one approached she stiffened with anticipation.
Please let it be him…please don't let it be him…fought in her head. Twice carriages had stopped and offered Bella a ride into the village but Bella had politely refused.
And now she stood on Rev. and Mrs. Webber's doorstep, feeling tired, hungry, cold, humiliated…and in desperate need of welcoming arms.
She raised her hand, clad in Alice's glove, and knocked on the door. A few moments passed and she heard a rustling on the inside of the door.
"Who is it?" Rev. Webber called out.
"It's…it's Bella."
The door latch opened and the Webbers stood, their faces creased with concern.
"Bella!" cried Mrs. Webber, pulling her into the warmth of their home. "What has happened? Oh my dear girl!"
And Bella fell into her arms as the tears began to flow again.
-xxx-
Mrs. Cope stood in the middle of Bella's abandoned room, paper in hand. She re-read the short note she had found on the bed when she came to check on Bella before retiring to bed.
Lizzie or Mrs. Cope,
I hope you find this note before anyone else. I cannot stay here. I hope you understand. I am going to the Webber's until I can determine where to go next. Please do not tell him where I am.
Bella
Mrs. Cope sighed and pressed her hand to her forehead. Of course Bella couldn't stay here, she already knew that. But it hadn't occurred to Mrs. Cope that Bella would leave in the middle of the night, alone, without saying goodbye.
As she stood in the empty room, debating whether to wake her Joseph and send him off in search of Bella, a knock came.
Mrs. Cope opened it to find Lord Masen standing in the hallway, his eyes wide with pain, his wild hair standing nearly on end.
"Mrs. Cope," he began, startled.
Mrs. Cope's mouth hardened into a thin line. "She's gone."
Edward sagged against the doorjamb. "I never got to explain…"
"Well I'm sure that would have been quite an explanation, Lord Masen," Mrs. Cope said icily. "One for the books."
He looked at her wearily. "How much do you know?"
"Enough. Enough to know her heart is broken and she'll never set foot in this house again." She was silent for a moment as her eyes flashed angrily. "I don't quite know what your intentions were, or how exactly it all developed between you two, but I will tell you this – she didn't deserve this."
Mrs. Cope made a move toward the door. As she passed by Edward, he placed a hand on her arm.
"Mrs. Cope, where is she? I need to speak to her, I need to explain, it can't be left like this…"
"She doesn't want you to know, Lord Masen, and unless your explanation includes the words 'I'm not marrying Miss Winters,' I would suggest you leave her be."
With that, she strode swiftly down the hall, leaving Edward alone in the empty room.
As he stood in the center of the small space, taking in the bare walls and clean surfaces, he saw The Complete Works of William Shakespeare at her bedside. Pain stabbed at his heart – she had left it. He reached down and carefully took the book that felt leaden in his hands. He looked at the stripped bed, his eyes resting on the red wool coverlet folded at its foot. Heavily, he fell to his knees burying his face in the soft fabric, taking in the scent of lavender that permeated it. Her scent…
For a long time, Lord Masen stayed in the small, chilly upstairs room, forsaking his warm and comfortable chamber below. For a long time he stayed where it had felt like home for so long…but now was as empty as his heart.