Miss Swan's POV
Breakfast the next morning was a much subdued affair and I suspected that the effects of the alcohol and rich food were to blame for the depleted numbers at the breakfast tables. Shannon had already packed my luggage and I was to travel back to London with the Wilde's as Laura had some business with which to attend before she could make the journey to the city. Bosie and Edward dashed off early, Edward still eating his toast as he kissed me chastely upon the cheek and rushed outside to where Bosie held the door of the carriage open for him. I was left with the sight of them waving like schoolboys from the windows and a scattering of crumbs on my cheek. I had no idea what the rush was about but I knew better than to ask them when they were in one of their giddy moods.
Constance and I chatted about the weekend's events as we drove at a more sedate pace through the English countryside. In veiled terms I told her of the incident with Lady Caroline and she agreed with me that the woman was 'perfectly horrid'.
"I really don't know what Edward ever saw in her, do you Oscar dear?" Constance turned to her husband who was alternating between staring dreamily out of the window and jotting furiously on a note book in his hand. He glanced to us, obviously ignorant of the subject of which we spoke and nodded absently. Constance sighed and shrugged at me. "You must grow familiar with this sight dear Isabella, "she waved her hand in the direction of Oscar and his window, "men are dammed difficult to fathom!" At her exclamation Oscar raised a laconic eyebrow and we laughed at his attention to her words but not the emotion which accompanied them.
The rest of the journey was spent with us all peering out onto the scene which flashed by our windows. Constance pointing out this landmark and telling me the history of that village or town. Eventually the building grew more densely packed together and the green fields more and more scarce until we found ourselves bustling through the capital city I had grown to love.
How to describe to you London on that beautiful morning, dear reader. The boys scurrying around and in front of the the hurtling carriages, carrying their packages and messages. The horses of the well to do, shiny and beautiful alongside the muddy and the unkempt animals of the merchants' drays. The brightly polished brasses of the front doors of smart houses and the deliveries of coal, food and casks of wine which were being carried around to the servants doors at the back of these fine abodes. Women and men walked the streets arm in arm dressed in the latest fashions and the carriages which sped by us transported the wealthier citizens on their weekly rounds of visits to friends and the expensive shops of the West End. All was bustle and noise and I thrilled to the sight of this place which I was now proud to call home.
The thoughts of the great city also brought to my mind the remembrance (really, had I actually forgotten?) that Mama and Papa would soon be here too. I would have to show them the sights and introduce them to my new friends as well as beginning the preparation for my wedding. At this thought my stomach made a small jump and a cloud of butterflies, it seemed, fluttered in my belly.
I had more cause for concern than I had realised as we reached the house on Tithe Street and found such a flurry of activity one might have thought we were preparing for a visit from Her Majesty Queen Victoria herself. Constance met Mrs Hudson the housekeeper in the hallway where she was both bossing the girls to change the bed linen and the boys to bring in the boxes of wine bottles which had just been delivered to the servants' entrance.
"What is going on?" asked Constance, a frown of concern shadowing her beautiful face. "Where are the children?" There was no anger in her tone and I knew that she would trust her housekeeper's judgement in any affair which had caused her to organise the household in such a manner. The older, smaller woman turned to her in a flurry of starched skirts and reddened cheeks.
"Oh Mrs. Wilde! Thank god you're home!" For a moment I thought Mrs. Hudson might throw herself upon Constance and hug her, evidently Constance thought so too as she took a step back from the small whirlwind of a woman. "The boys are with Nanny at the park. We got a message last night that Mr. and Mrs. Swan," here her eyes glanced to me and she ghosted a curtsey that she had no time to perform correctly, "were to arrive this morning in London!" Constance's eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. I confess my brain must have been addled from the food and drink at Ashton Hall for it took me a moment to absorb her words. Mrs Hudson carried on, not pausing in her waving of instructions and flapping her hands. "It turns out they're staying with a Mrs. Fenton, a friend of their family, in Bond St but they're coming here this evening!" She stopped in her explanation to shove a servant carrying a huge pile of linen up the stairs. "I haven't had time to change the beds, rearrange the flowers in the white room or prepare lunch I'm afraid." Constance made as if to speak, to assure Mrs. Hudson that she understood the problem but the smaller woman seemed not to pause for breath. "It'll all be ship shape and Bristol fashion by four!"
Constance spun on her heel propelling me before her out into the street and indicating to our driver that the carriage should wait.
"We'll lunch at the Savoy, Mrs. Hudson!" she cried over her shoulder. "When the children arrive, give them some supper and a bath and I'll put them to bed myself before the Swans arrive!" As the carriage pulled away I saw Mrs. Hudson chiding the coal man for making a mess of the white pavement outside the house and grabbing a servant boy to clear up the black footprints. The windows of the house were open and maids were beating carpets and shaking out curtains. It was as though the whole house had been thrown into action rather like a battleship. I looked over at Constance who was looking in a small mirror and tucking her hair back into its pins beneath her hat. She smiled at me through the mirror and then leant over to tweak my cheek affectionately.
"It's best this way Isabella, "she smiled and sat back into the upholstered seat, "at least we won't have any dreadful apprehension if they cone to dinner tonight."
Mrs Renée Swan's POV
I could easily see why my daughter loved this city. Its people were so polite and formal and yet, one felt, that beneath their manners and respectability there was a real human warmth and care about them. The history of the place seemed to seep into their voices and the streets were so busy that it appeared to be like that of a fairy tale town. It had been my husband's idea to keep from alerting Isabella to our arrival, I think he hoped to surprise her. Charles has an especially soft spot for his only child and sometimes he still treats her as though she were a little girl. I had worried about his reaction when she had written to me to ask for our blessing on her engagement to this Mr. Cullen but he had merely nodded at the dinner table and gone back to reading the day's newspaper. I knew him too well to think that this would be the end of his interest in this mysterious new suitor who had plans to take from him his little girl. As a woman, I appreciated the panic a sudden announcement of our arrival could cause for Mrs. Wilde and so I arranged a note to be delivered to the Wilde's housekeeper early on the morning we arrived in London.
We spent the rest of the morning settling into Eleanor Fenton's huge town house. It was marvellous to see Eleanor, we had been friends when I had been a young girl before her family had moved back to their native London and we had written frequent letters ever since. She had been first to suggest that Isabella might like to stay with her on her visit to Europe but an unfortunate illness had meant the change of plans which had lead to Isabella staying with the Wilde's and now meeting her new fiancé. How strange that the small twists and turns of our lives lead us to events which will shape us forever.
Eleanor's house was very grand with a vast army it seemed of servants. We were taking some tea in the weak spring sunshine of the library when a servant arrived with a letter for Mr. Swan. He took the note, read it and then, without a word to myself or Eleanor, made his excuses and left the table, taking his coat and cane from a servant as he went out into the street. Eleanor raised her eyebrows at me and then leant forward in her chair, taking my hands in hers.
"Men!"She chuckled. "Now that I have you alone Renée I want to tell you what I've learnt of Mr. Edward Cullen." I leaned forward and pressed her to go on. Gossip is rarely as stimulating as when it involves your own offspring. "Well, he is very well off, an orphan I believe. He has strong connections with both Lord Ashton's family and the family of Lord Alfred Douglas." My eyes went wide, friend with lords of the realm, how romantic and medieval! Eleanor saw my response and nodded. "The Douglas family are immensely wealthy. They have various estates including one in Scotland, very fashionable, Scotland!" she sighed and sipped her tea.
"And the other family? The.... Ashton's?" I enquired trying not to sound too eager. She sipped her tea and then, maddeningly, nibbled a biscuit whilst I waited.
"My darling, they are simply swimming in money and tradition! Lord Ashton has only one child, Lady Laura Ashton and we all thought that Mr. Cullen might marry her; they are very close although not so close as to cause a scandal. Lord Ashton's wife died when the girl was very young and so her father has encouraged her to befriend other young people of her own age and standing as a kind of replacement for her lack of siblings, I presume. I believe she's grown quite attached to your girl. They've been out at a party at Ashton hall this weekend. Very grand, balls and dinner and such." Eleanor sipped her tea again, revelling in the interesting information she was bestowing upon me.
I sat back in my seat and took small bites from my biscuit. My mind was a flutter of excitement, all the fairy tale lives I had ever imagined for myself as a young girl seemed to be set out in my place for my Isabella! Friends of lords and ladies, balls in country estates and now engagement to a rich eligible bachelor! Really, my cup runneth over! I thought to myself. Then a notion struck me which gave me pause. I put down my biscuit and tea cup, my face grave. Sensing some serious matter Eleanor followed my actions.
"Eleanor!" my teacup rattled in its saucer as I placed it upon the low table. "Is this Mr. Cullen handsome?" Eleanor's face, which had been etched with concern relaxed into a happy smile.
"My dear, he is simply divine!" we laughed with relief. We finished our tea as a servant came to inform us that there was a lady waiting to see us in the drawing room. "Ah! This will be my niece!"Exclaimed Eleanor as she rose from her chair and waited for me to join her in going to meet this young lady. "I thought we might all go out for a spot of lunch, as Charles has already gone we must go alone."
Miss Swan's POV
Constance and I arrived for luncheon having decided that we should invite Mama and Papa to meet Edward tonight at dinner. Constance asked the young man who greeted us at the door of the Savoy if he could send a note to Edward's house requesting his presence for dinner that evening. The young man smiled and took the note saying he would personally see that it was promptly delivered. He rushed away leaving us to another young man who showed us into the Savoy's dining room.
The white linen and the sparkling cutlery and glasses caught in the spring sunshine gave off a gleam of cleanliness and prosperity. Wealthy patrons sipped wine and ate from the thinnest of china, chatting politely about the weather and their friends. I swept the room with a glance as we were taken to our table near a tall window. A few people I knew from Laura's parties raised their hands in a wave and I smiled and waved back. I was just feeling comfortable in my place in London society when I saw something which fairly knocked the wind out of my sails and left me gasping for air. Constance saw my change in manner and rushed to my side as I fell into my seat in a most unladylike fashion and my face grew pale.
"Whatever is the matter dear Isabella?" she followed my shaking finger to where a groups of three women were beckoning to us over the tinkling of silver and glassware. One of them was a middle aged, well dressed woman that I remembered vaguely from my child hood, another was without a doubt my mother, her excited waving and happy smile making tears spring to my eyes but beside her at the table, also waving and smiling a snakelike smile was the towering frame of Lady Caroline Bentham!
There was nothing we could do but go over to their table. My mother was on her feet in flash, first hugging me tightly to her chest and then pushing me back so she could look at me. Then she crushed me to her bosom again. I smiled and tried not to faint from the blood pounding in my ears, my tightly laced corset and the hugging. People at other tables were beginning to stare, my mother's American display of affection standing out most considerably in the refined atmosphere of the Savoy hotel.
"My darling! How well you look, so grown up and so at home at the Savoy!" my mother clasped her hands under her chin and beamed at me. Then she held my hand tightly as she waved for more chairs. We sat down dutifully, Constance's face showing that she now understood my reason for alarm; I watched her eye Lady Caroline ready to defend me at any moment. Mother was talking at top speed, rattling along like a train. The journey here by boat, her thoughts of London, her feelings at the news of my possible engagement, father's sudden departure following a message delivered to him this morning, on and on she went. I must confess, dear reader, that much of this prattle went into one ear and out of the other but for one word. Possible engagement? It would have been most improper of me to question mother in public but blessed Constance saw my plight and questioned for me.
"How marvellous it is to finally meet you Mrs. Swan! My imaginings of you, created from Isabella's glowing words about you and my own opinion on your kind and wonderful daughter, are quite realised!" she enthused squeezing my mother's hand and smiled so dazzlingly that my mother stopped speaking and smiled in reply. "I could not help but notice that you used the word possible in reference to Isabella's engagement to Mr. Cullen? Is there some problem?" Imperceptible to all but myself her eyes slid to Lady Caroline who was sitting rigidly in her chair, her smile as fixed as though it were cast by rigor mortis. My mother poured her tea, oblivious to the waiter who hovered at her elbow to perform the duty for her.
"No, no, no problem, of course not. But I think it is best to speak of the engagement in terms of possibility until Isabella's father has actually met her proposed fiancé don't you?" Before anyone could reply lady Caroline broke in, her voice sounding false and absurdly happy.
"Oh I've known Edward for an age, Renée!" she gasped out, smiling with over familiarity at my mother and using her Christian name as a warning to me to show how great friends they had become. "I can't think of any reason at all why Charles wouldn't find him suitable!"
"Have you met Isabella's father then?" asked Constance acidly, pursing her lips and accepting a cake from the stand in the centre of the table.
"No, but I'm sure he'll just love Eddie, aren't you?" Lady Caroline gushed. I tried hard not to slap her silly face.
"Oh, how foolish of me, I thought you must be old friends from the way you seemed to be on first name terms," concluded Constance, emphasising the word old and delivering her final blow as she sipped her tea. Lady Caroline flushed bright pink and opened and shut her mouth like a fish. Mrs Fenton took the opportunity to steer the talk to that most stalwart of English conversation topics, the weather.
"How frightful it must have been holed up in Lord Ashton's draughty old place in the snow!" she exclaimed shuddering, "why, some parts if it are positively medieval Renée, walls six feet thick and a dungeon!" My mother looked thrilled at this idea and I allowed their excited chatter to wash over me while I thought of how delightfully safe Ashton Hall had seemed and worried about Papa's opinion of Edward.
Lunch was proving to be not unlike a fencing match, with a thrust from Lady Caroline, followed by parry from either Constance or myself. I was beginning to feel quite dizzy with trying to keep up with the arch comments and snide asides when I felt a presence sweep into the room. This is no idly dramatic phrase dear reader, for indeed the whole atmosphere of the room seemed to lighten and become less oppressive and I turned to see who had wrought that is marvellous and welcome change. Sweeping to us from the vestibule was Laura, followed by two menservants carrying large stacks of dress boxes.
Laura effortlessly welcomed my mother with the warmness reserved for friends and, simultaneously treated Lady Caroline with the coldest of shoulders without seeming to break her stride. Indicating for the waiter to place her chair between Lady Caroline and my mother's she sat down and began to help herself to tea, talking ten to the dozen about dresses and shopping for the bride to be. With a start I realised that it was myself to whom she was referring. My mother was in her element. Laura's aristocratic ease of nature coupled with her love of clothes made her my mother's dream friend. I watched with awe as they bickered amicably about styles of wedding dress, traditions for brides and grooms and the best way to send out invitations as though they had known each other all their lives. Lady Caroline's face left us in no doubt that she felt thoroughly ousted and Constance chatted politely to Mrs. Fenton about London shops and where to buy the best hats.
"Lady Laura is quite right!" my mother declared to me over a mountain of boxes, each spilling forth a sample of cloth which I could only fathom was for my wedding dress. "We should have the dress measured and made at the earliest opportunity! Which colour do you prefer Isabella?" It was as though she had entirely forgotten her early comment that my father needed to approve the match before we could begin preparations for the wedding. She gestured to the pastel shades of silk before her.
"Blue?" I stammered.
"Ah, 'love will be true'" quoted Laura sagely and indicating for the servant to take all the other colours away, then changing her mind and waving him back. "Perhaps it might be best to have your dress white Isabella, to compliment your dark hair, or ivory which isn't quite so stark? Please call me Laura, Mrs. Swan," purred the remarkable catalyst for this change in my mother's opinions as she poured another cup of tea and passed it to me. She winked as I took the cup. "After all, your daughter is my dearest friend in the world."
"Then you should call me Renée." My mother smiled radiantly. I choked a little on my tea and both of them turned to me with identical expressions of concern before returning to their conversation. Laura was giving the names of all the best dress makers and describing lace and pearls and silks. My mother seemed somewhat preoccupied; Laura spied this hesitation and correctly assumed its cause.
"I insist upon buying my dear friend's wedding dress," exclaimed Laura patting my hand proprietarily. My mother was about to protest, the wedding dress would be the main expense of the wedding and, although Mama and Papa were by no means poor, the possibility of the thousand pound dress was no doubt a concern for Mama. She was about to protest when Laura dabbed a handkerchief to her eyes. "Renée, I have no doubt that you would wish yourself to buy the dress for your dear daughter but I ask you to be generous in accepting my offer. I have no siblings, no other family than my dear father and I do look upon Isabella as the sister I was never fortunate enough to have." My mother melted. She patted Laura's hand and assured her that she would never allow Papa to buy my dress as Laura had that privilege. Once again I sat in awe of Laura's powers of persuasion.
By the end of luncheon it was decided that in two days time we would go to Ashton House and Laura would summon the dressmakers from the House of Worth in London to fit and design my dress ready for an April wedding next month. My head was spinning with embroidery, flowers and guest lists by the time Constance ushered me to the carriage. My mother kissed me heartily and told me how excited she was to meet Edward tonight and, with anticipation and fear warring for supremacy in my weary mind, we began to journey to Tithe St.
Ok, it's been a long time coming hasn't it this chapter? Sorry I have just had so much to do in RL. Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and stuck with this story from the start and also to the new readers who have only recently discovered us out here in Victorian London. Thanks have to go to Awesomesauce76 and RaindropsToo for being great friends who I found through the fandom and who have inspired new TV addictions and film reviews. Love to the Tinis, especially Passionmama1 (good luck with the application) and Jrh927 (thinking about you this weekend). Thanks to my partner in crime Chandler1200 for her wise sayings 'write it when you want to, writing should not be a chore' and 'that's no small moon'!! Love you babes. And to Reg a big hug for putting up with such a grumpy c(r)ow living in her house. Happy Valentine's Day, love you cx
BTW if we get hit with the 'Literate Union' bullying I'll probably go to 'Twilighted' exclusively bc they are grown ups and can deal with grown up stuff. I would encourage all readers to abandon if this continues, then they might learn something. But you should know what these weirdos are out there, encouraging underage readers to read adult fiction and then complain. Ridiculous and wonderful for paving the way to an even more extreme 'Nanny State' where people can't police themselves and judge what is right for themselves. If you don't like it, don't read it and if you do like it sign the petition! .net/s/5734048/1/
