Chapter 36 – Dark Castles and Coffins

I sat beside Rosalie on the porch, giving her a quick smile. She didn't smile back, but she didn't object to my presence either, and when I saw the way she flinched away from Carlisle when he came anywhere near her I thought that I should be grateful for that much tolerance.

Carlisle looked at Rosalie. "We need to dispose of those deer before the sun is fully risen," he said carefully, but Rosalie's calmer mood apparently did not extend that far. Pouting, she turned her face away from Carlisle and made it very clear that she had no intention of moving.

"I'll do it," Edward said, a note of impatience in his voice. "That will be easier than arguing this one out now."

He vanished into the forest with the carcasses, and I was grateful for his help. Rosalie would have to learn, but in her tense and brittle state it seemed better not too push too hard.

"It's just as well that you heard our discussion," Carlisle said. "We had no intention of hiding anything from you as it happens; decisions affecting the family are always discussed together. I suppose we're also used to Edward, who doesn't really need to be told things directly! We were just uncertain as to whether you were ready to discuss the future at this point."

"What future? Killing things?" Rosalie wasn't shouting, but her voice was hard and I couldn't help wincing at the ugliness of her words.

Carlisle touched me comfortingly on the shoulder and said lightly, "Everyone has to eat. We try to be responsible about our hunting by burying the remains, feeding upon wild animals rather than any farmer's stock, doing we can to not impact the local ecosystem in a negative way. Esme keeps abreast of news of rare and endangered species and we will generally avoid those."

Rosalie snorted contemptuously. "You're vampires with ethics?"

I saw Edward smiling as he appeared again, brushing dirt off his hands. "We refer to ourselves as vegetarians," he said to Rosalie. "A little joke."

"Hilarious," she muttered.

Carlisle changed the subject. "Esme and I were discussing our future plans. Rosalie, you're perhaps a little too conspicuous to risk appearing anywhere public. You do understand that no one from your old life can see you as you are now? To them it must be as though you had died. I cannot stress to you enough how important secrecy is, not only for us but because of what would happen to any human who discovers too much about us."

I watched her anxiously. Rosalie's whole vampire future hinged on her ability to accept what she was, and so far she had not seemed in the least inclined to do so.

Rosalie's face was still furious, but at least she didn't shout when she snapped, "I hate this! But yes…I understand."

Carlisle's next words were slow and gentle, "Your family and…your family are searching the state for you Because of your youth, because of your connections, because of the mystery surrounding your disappearance this affair has garnered a great deal of public attention. It is important that you are not seen, not even a distant glimpse of you. I think for a time we should stay here while you adjust; this house was chosen for its isolation and we'll be quite safe here. We can teach you to hunt during darkness, and use the days to teach you how to harness your new vampire abilities and behaviours to pass as human while we consider where we'll settle next."

Rosalie's face went taut.

"Don't think of him," Edward said with sudden force. "He won't get away with it." He glanced at Carlisle and I. "We'll think of something."

But Rosalie did not want Edward's pity, or his help.

"No!" she snarled, her eyes glittering with hatred. "None of you are to do anything! He will pay – oh yes, he'll pay! – but I want to be the one to deal out justice for this." She looked away, and her voice dropped to a mere whisper of grief. "You've taken everything from me…at least leave me this. At least let me choose how it ends."

Carlisle's shoulders dropped in defeat, and my heart ached for him. How difficult for him, to have done something in good faith and with the honest belief that he was doing right, and have it come to this. A broken, enraged girl who was glaring at him as an enemy who had done her an unforgiveable wrong.

But what was done was done, and Rosalie would have to accept that. As with all of us, we had to take what life had given us and make the best of it.

"Come with me Rosalie," I said. "I'll show you around the house."

Rosalie didn't say anything, but she followed me willingly enough and I was glad. I wanted to take her away from Carlisle and give him a chance to regroup, to try and centre himself in this situation we were now caught in.

But I also wanted to get Rosalie on her own. Away from Carlisle whom she appeared to loathe, and away from Edward who seemed to antagonise her, I hoped that she might relax enough to talk to me.

"We moved here in 1931," I told her cheerfully, propping open the door she had broken and making a mental note that we'd need more plasterboard. "This is our living area, and as you can see we spend most of our time here." I gestured towards the large table with its books and papers, the many bookshelves and Edward's piano and records.

Rosalie may not have been willing to control her temper, but she had clearly been drilled in manners and etiquette. "It's lovely. You have some beautiful things." I noticed her gaze lingering on some of the art and sculpture.

"The house is yours now too," I told her sincerely. "You must feel free to make yourself at home."

She didn't respond to that.

I led her into the kitchen, which looked exactly like a kitchen should, although it was never used for cooking of course. Rosalie looked around, and I caught the flicker of surprise.

"You didn't expect it to be so ordinary?" I asked lightly.

"No," she said bluntly. "You're vampires- I expected all dark castles and coffins. I've read Dracula you know."

I giggled, and once again she looked surprised. "It's really not like that at all. We're much more like humans than we are different, at least in the way we live. Admittedly no one cooks in here," and I looked at a little sadly at the gleaming stove, "But I like it to be as normal as possible. It makes me feel more human, more able to resist temptation, having all this behind me."

I was relieved to see Rosalie absorbing my words and thinking about them, and it felt as though perhaps I was making a tiny bit of progress. With a slightly lighter heart I showed her the study, feeling glad that Carlisle's macabre collection of jars and medical implements were in storage since the house had no real space for them.

Piano music began to drift through the house, and Rosalie cocked her head to listen.

"It's Edward playing," I told her.

Rosalie scowled mutinously. "He's horrible. I hate him."

I thought it was best to diplomatically ignore that. "This is the dining room," I said, gesturing through a doorway. "Of course, not really used for dining! I use the table in here for my sewing, because it's large enough to cut patterns out on, and I'll sometimes paint by the window because the light in here is very good. The bathroom is next door, and the back porch has been built in for the laundry."

"You don't have a housekeeper or a maid?" Rosalie asked, a little uncertainly.

I shook my head. "No. We value our privacy and don't want strangers here. We've used commercial laundries in the past, but I do the washing here and most of the cleaning. Edward and Carlisle help."

If possible, the implication that she might be expected to help with housework made Rosalie's face glummer than ever.

"The bedrooms are upstairs," I said, ascending the stairs. "The room you were in is at the end of the hall." I didn't go down that way. The door was closed, she'd already seen the room, and completely destroyed it. There was nothing more to see there. "This is Edward's room," I added, opening the door for a moment so she could peek in.

"He doesn't have a bed," she said, examining Edward's room, which contained his large collection of records, many books, a desk and a deep, comfortable armchair.

"No, he finds he doesn't need one. Remember that he doesn't sleep," I said as I closed Edward's door and opened the door to mine and Carlisle's room so the two of us could step inside. "I think we'll make this your room, if you'd like that," I said impulsively. "Carlisle and I can move our things into Edward's room, or downstairs until the other bedroom is fixed. That way you can have this as your own space, right from now."

It had been a spontaneous suggestion, but as I saw a brief flare of gratitude in Rosalie's wide, red eyes I knew I'd given her something precious. A space of her own, something in this terrifyingly unfamiliar world that she could call her own and a place where she could control what happened.

"We probably can't do a great deal about the décor," I said thoughtfully, looking around. "Although I think it's quite nice for you anyway." The rose patterned wallpaper was pretty and quite suitable for a girl, the curtains were pale green and the hardwood floor was decorated with a thick cream rug. The furniture was still the same teak set that Carlisle had bought for our wedding night years ago.

"It's very nice, thank you," Rosalie said, a little stiffly.

"We could take the bed out and then you'd have enough space for a chair or sofa and a desk," I suggested. "But it's all up to you of course. Give it some thought and let me know."

Rosalie gave an almost imperceptible nod. Her hands were clasped tightly together as she looked down at the dresser, her eyes caught by the glitter of jewels in my open jewellery box.

"I don't have my ring," she said in a strangled voice, wringing her hands. "Do you have it somewhere? I always wear it, he likes me to…" She shook her head and closed her eyes tightly. "I can't…can't believe…he did that to me."

I had a sudden flash of memory, and the clarity of it brought me up short with a startled cry. I saw in my mind's eyes the vulnerable, human version of myself crouched on the kitchen floor, smelling the sour smell of vomit and fear as I realised that my husband had just tried to kill me.

"What?"

I took a deep breath. "You just made me remember something. I'll probably tell you about it someday." I looked down at her bare hands. "We don't have your ring. You didn't have anything when Carlisle brought you here."

"You have pretty things," Rosalie said, forcing an abrupt change of subject.

"Thank you. You're more than welcome to look at them if you'd like. Look around the house…we don't have any secrets and we want to share what we have with you."

Rosalie's body was almost vibrating with tension as her hands caught her hair and tugged.

"Would you like me to leave you alone for a little while?" I asked gently. "You've had a lot of shocks to deal with this morning, and perhaps you'd like some time to think about things."

Rosalie rolled her head helplessly. "I suppose so."

I quietly closed the door behind me, pausing for a minute to gather my thoughts. Already I could feel my mothering instincts rise as I thought about Rosalie and her almost palpable pain. I knew she was eighteen, but for all she had been preparing for marriage and obviously thought of herself as an adult, there was something in her that made me think she needed care. Certainly she was going to need a great deal of kindness, patience and understanding as she came to terms with her world being turned upside down.

Down in the living room Edward was playing the piano and Carlisle was sitting at the table with the newspapers. I sat beside him, brushing a kiss across his cheek as I did so, and took the papers he had finished with and began idly filling in the crossword.

"I gave Rosalie our room. We'll have to move our personal things out. Perhaps put them in Edward's room until we can clean up and repair the damage in the spare room?" I smiled ruefully at Carlisle. "I know you won't mind. I felt that Rosalie might need some space she can call hers as she adjusts."

Carlisle touched my cheek with a loving hand. "Whatever you think best."

There was a sound from the hallway and then Rosalie appeared in the doorway. She ignored Carlisle and I, her attention focussed on Edward at the piano, and she slunk along the wall until she was standing beside him, listening.

"Music has charms to soothe the savage breast," Carlisle murmured almost inaudibly.

We were all acutely aware of Rosalie's presence, although all of us deliberately paid her no attention so we wouldn't scare her away. Edward changed his music though, improvising as he switched flawlessly from what he had been playing to another piece, music that stormed and crashed and throbbed with the same volatility that Rosalie embodied. Then slowly, delicately, the music slowed, the storm coming to an end as Edward played a gentle song of peace and calm.

I watched Rosalie, feeling sad as I took in her agony and sense of isolation. She listened to Edward with her cheek resting against the wall, staring out the window with a face like stone, and I thought she looked like a marble carving of an angel, stern and sad.

Eventually Edward's music drifted into silence, and Rosalie turned to him. For the first time the two of them looked at each other without rancour, before Rosalie said hesitantly, "Thank you," and fled from the room.