Thank you so much for all the alerts and reviews. You people broke 300 reviews with the last chapter. I'm humbled and thankful. Keep them coming.

The other brains behind this venture are Sunflower Fran & Alice's White Rabbit, who lend their talents to editing this.
RobsmyyummyCabanaboy and Deh are my pre-readers, plot coaches, shoulders to cry on, you name it, they do it.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, the morning after. Shall we?

DISCLAIMER: I still don't own any of it.

CHAPTER 20

Well used to rising before daybreak, when a first flicker of sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains to warm my eyelids, I jolted awake and involuntarily tightened my hold around Bella, who still slumbered huddled into my side.

With a care not to rouse her, I extracted my arm from underneath her so I could lean on my elbow and gaze at my wife. She'd fallen asleep in my arms last night after looping her own loosely around me. I, on the other hand, hadn't succumbed to Morpheus' charms so easily. With the nervous energy of our coupling still vibrating through my body and soul to my very core, sleep had eluded me for almost an hour until, at the stroke of midnight, Bella sighed a single word.

My name.

The sound floated through the dead of night like a prayer, and there in the darkness, in the now familiar warmth of her embrace, I finally found peace and rest.

At present, in the soft, rosy-fingered light of morning, my Bella—my wife—slept in my arms. Trusting, peaceful, sated … Happy, if the slight smile on her lips was any indication.

I'd woken with thoughts of our night together still branded in my memory, alive through every nerve ending I possessed, as enveloped as I was in the fragrance of her hair, her skin, of her, and in the reverent, passionate—if guarded—touch of her hands on my own heated skin.

I longed to have her again and hoped she'd be receptive to the idea while I battled with my desire as she lay in my arms. My cock seemed to have risen with the sun, as it was wont to do every morning. Only this morn, the overeager fellow had good reason to tempt me with the object of his desire—and mine—sprawled within reach.

While I berated myself again for my current brutish thoughts and my abysmal performance last night, Bella stirred. With feline grace, she stretched her limbs slowly, turning her head this way and that to shake off the last remnants of sleep. When she opened her eyes, her features still quite rumpled and her hair spread on the pillow in a tangled cloud of mahogany strands, I got lost in her eyes and in those other lines that wove together the perfection of her.

"You truly are the most beautiful creature I've ever beheld, my love. Good morning."

She gazed at me with lazy, still disoriented eyes and the same easy smile as before etched on her lips. "Good morning, Edward." She wound an arm around my neck with the clear intent to pull me closer. Because I prided myself on being a dutiful husband, I obliged and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

"So far, I quite like being married to you, Mr Cullen," she said with satisfied cheek when I released her.

"Not as much as I do, I'll wager, Mrs Cullen."

Through her answering giggles she shifted in my embrace until her knee, which she'd bent under the covers, grazed my thigh and member, and my sudden, tortured hiss startled her into stillness.

"I'm so … I'm sorry, Edward."

Her shy murmur came before I could barely shake my head in response, not so much because of physical discomfort, but rather because of the abrupt, electric shift the air around us seemed to have taken. My tender feelings toward her—though ever-present and flowing through me as one with my own blood—gave way to my more carnal cravings. One touch sufficed. One innocent, inadvertent touch sparked an inferno in my loins. I breathed her in deeply, with my eyes sewn shut for fear she'd read my wanton designs in my countenance, and I attempted to muster a semblance of restraint. My strategy worked until she touched me. Her hand cradled my face, coaxing my eyes open in reaction.

"Does it … does it hurt? Did I hurt you?"

"No, my love," I murmured, leaning into her touch to kiss her palm.

"May I"—she started, drawing closer to me—"May I touch you, Edward?"

I hissed again, incapable of uttering one coherent word of reply. Before long, I nodded, as the lustful, greedy wretch I was. I looked down, unable to resist the pull towards her when she gently wrapped her hand around my shaft.

Slow and tentative, she caressed me in haphazard movements until instinct or curiosity drove her to grip me tighter, pumping up and down my length.

"God almighty, Isabella …" My over-excited growl stilled her motions.

"Should I … Should I stop?"

My hips bucked into her touch involuntarily. "No, my love … But I do want you. Good God, Bella, how I want you," I whispered in abrupt breaths in between feverish kisses I planted wherever I could. "May I have you?"

Please say yes, I thought. I need you too much to be able to stop.

"I want you too, Edward …"

Good enough. I construed that in the affirmative as she moved her hand off my cock to grasp my buttock in the possessive move she'd made last night.

Too far gone now to be gentle, in a quick move, I hovered over her, determined to give her a far more blissful experience than last night, which required reining myself in for an instant. Whether I could, that was another matter entirely. Especially because, at that precise moment, Bella hitched her slim leg around my hip, bumping her core against me while her roaming hands traced scorching patterns on my chest, on my arms, along my neck, wherever she touched.

With a savage growl, I cradled her face in my hand before lowering my lips to kiss her. When I tasted her, she obliged and moved her tongue in time with mine, igniting me further into frenzied passion.

"Oh, God …" Only this time I wasn't the one taking the Lord's name in vain. "Edward …"

"Aye, now you have it right, my love."

Drunk on the feel and scent of her around me, I licked a wanton path down her neck and collarbone until she writhed like a shivering mass in my arms. In one sudden thrust, I was joined to her and took that moment to gaze at her face.

"My love … God, Bella … I swore I'd be better; I'd be gentler … but I don't know if I can …"

"Please, Edward … Please …"

That repeated plea destroyed every last shred of restraint I'd mustered. I pulled out slowly, mindful in case she'd be hurt or sore from last night. When she didn't wince or recoil from me, I thrust back inside her warmth where I belonged.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Though driven almost to distraction, I couldn't help my protective streak from surfacing.

"No," she whispered, digging her nails into my shoulder as I drove into her again and again.

The overwhelming sensation of being one with her made every single one of my nerves thrum with arousal, and I lost awareness of anything that wasn't her … her touch, her smell, the taste of her skin on mine, and the sounds of her as she loved me.

"Sweet Christ …" I exclaimed, teetering on the edge of oblivion when her hips rose in time with mine, and her moans grew languid, feverish, dripping with want.

Her core claimed me, thrust for thrust, gripping me like a vice, pulsating around me to the staccato rhythm of her heartbeat. With one move, I rolled us over until she straddled me. I sensed her sudden pause when, unsure what to do, she took all I gave as I relentlessly drove into her.

She leaned back above me, gripping my thighs for balance, and on my next thrust, a low, keening sound left her lips.

"Oh, God … Oh, God … Oh, Edward …"

She chanted my name time and time again until the need to have her closer, to engulf her in my embrace overwhelmed me, and I sat up, never stopping my movements.

Another exhaled litany wafted off her while she met each of my thrusts with a driving force I didn't know she possessed.

"Edward …"

She breathed out my name in one last moaned prayer, and then stilled in my arms with shivers rippling her skin while her core pulsed around me. When her walls gripped me one last time in her climax, I could no longer hold myself together, and with one last powerful push, I spilled into her.

I couldn't leave her. I couldn't bring myself to pull out of her as we fell to the mattress in an uncoordinated mass of vibrating, sated limbs. I rained kisses on her face, her lips, down her neck as she still trembled in my arms while she murmured random words of love.

When we finally caught our breaths a few minutes later, I tipped her nose tenderly with my finger and took a good look at her—with her skin heated in a rosy blush, her eyes alight with excitement, and a radiant smile on her lips, her countenance gave a new definition to the expression "well-loved", which I'd sometimes heard in less wholesome circumstances. Yet, I'd loved her, and she'd loved me with the same intensity and desperation. The push and pull of our passion had brought us to the peak together. I reckoned I'd redeemed myself with my now satisfied wife, whose form felt boneless in my arms.

"Is this what they call wedded bliss?" she asked, not without some sauciness to her tone.

"I believe it is, my love."

With a possessive squeeze of my buttock—and I took due note of her apparent preference for that body part of mine—she replied, laughing, "Oh, Mr Cullen, I'm sure going to love being married to you!"

"What is it that has you so deep in thought, husband of mine?"

We'd been married for three days by that point, but already she read me like an open book. Then again, she'd always been observant when it came to me and my mercurial moods. From her perch on the chaise longue that stood in a corner of our bedroom, still clad only in her shift and dressing gown—quite unsurprisingly, for we'd hardly left our rooms since the wedding night much to Jenks's amusement when he'd been by to leave a tray of refreshments for us—Bella eyed me from behind the rim of her teacup, and her expression reminded me so much of the early days of our acquaintance that I just had to go and sit beside her.

"What makes you think I am deep in thought, wife of mine?"

Would my attempt at humour deter her? Probably not. The woman was far too smart to fall for my meagre ploy.

"You've stopped sipping your tea, you keep staring vacantly out the window and did not reply a minute ago when I asked if you were quite all right. Oh, and that line appeared in between your eyes—the frown that always spells disaster. Out with it, Edward."

"It would be just my curse to have wed such a perceptive lady as yourself. A man can't hide a thing from you."

She reached for my hand and gave me a reassuring squeeze. She spoke her next words with a tender expression. "It's all because I love you. Is something the matter?"

I leaned in to kiss her, and for a moment, she responded and forgot all about her questions and my frowns. That is until she put her index finger to my chest and pushed me away.

"This sort of distraction only works for so long," she commented with a smile.

"You're right as usual, my love."

She sat upright and wound her arm through mine, tugging at my hand for both comfort and encouragement, if I had to guess. "You can tell me anything. You know that, don't you?"

"Aye. It's nothing nefarious or worrisome. But it's been on my mind for a while and somehow got shoved out of the way because we've had …"

"Other priorities, Mr Cullen?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"That would be one way to put it. But now …"

Why was it so difficult to broach the subject with her? We were close, Bella and I. We talked all the time. And yet, I didn't know how to tell her, probably because I couldn't quite gauge how she'd react. I took her hand in mine again and looked her in the eye. As usual, I saw no judgment there, no condescension. Just concern and immense tenderness.

"Well, it's an idea that came to me around the time we left London. No, later than that actually. How well do you know Rosalie?"

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. "Not as well as I know Alice. We've gotten closer these last few weeks, though. Why are you asking?"

"Emmett believes a period of absence away from Treverva Lodge and her parents' influence would benefit her greatly."

Her eyes narrowed minutely as the expression on her face turned speculative. "Well, I can see that, to some extent. Her mother is a meddlesome, ever-prattling woman obsessed with social status and current fashions. Her father is only preoccupied with his business and with leveraging their high society contacts to his advantage. Never mind that his friends in the ton will never let him forget he owes his position to his prosperous business. Some still treat him as a mere tradesman behind his back, not that he has the acuity to either suspect or notice it. He only cares about the lofty invitations. Rosalie has been paraded and hailed as a beauty wherever she's been, but apart from Alice, she doesn't really have close friends."

I'd been right to consult my Bella. Her contribution seemed to be confirming my own findings already. "The reason I ask is because it could be in our power to help Emmett with that."

"In our power, Edward? How so?"

"I've been away from Jamaica for a few months now. My lawyer and my steward have everything in order, the plantation is doing fine, trade is good, there's been no damage from summer storms so far, but at some point, a property needs managing, Bella. Not by hired help either. It takes a master's voice to keep things on the straight and narrow in the long term."

A frown marred her features, and for a minute, it rekindled my fears.

"Would you … Do you want us to travel back to Jamaica?" she asked in a small voice.

I shook my head, but before I could offer her my firm, verbal denial, she interrupted me. "I would go anywhere with you, Edward. My place is by your side, wherever that is. It's just unexpected."

"Oh, Bella … my love …" I took her in my arms and kissed her, offering what loving reassurance I could. "No, it will not come to that. I don't want to move us to Jamaica. I don't want to go back. Not now, anyway."

She looked up at me and kissed me again softly. "Thank you."

"In fact, I've been toying with the idea of asking Emmett to manage the Cullen Plantation in my stead. What do you think?"

She nodded along with my words, pensive and silent, and continued in this pattern for an interminable minute. Then, in an abrupt motion, she threw herself into my arms with a force that almost knocked me over, and she covered my face with kisses.

"You are the kindest, smartest, most generous man I know, Edward Anthony Cullen. I'm unbelievably proud of you. And I love you so much. My Edward …"

Relief washed over me as I laughed and kissed her back with abandon. "I take it the scheme is agreeable to you, Mrs Cullen?"

Once she calmed down, I pulled her onto my lap before she looped her arms around my neck. "I love you, my darling. So, do you? Agree with my idea, that is?" I asked again.

"It's a wonderful proposition. Do you think he'll be amenable to it?"

I shrugged and went over my conversations with my brother in my head while I pondered my answer. "I believe he'd at least consider it. He's dropped a few hints. He's uneasy with the Hales' influence over Rosalie, so my best guess is that this would give him a perfect excuse to remove her from their orbit. They'd be clear across the Atlantic."

"The idea has merit but would require some serious planning on their parts. I agree with you though. If he's been dropping hints … short of Rosalie being adamantly opposed to it, I think Emmett would welcome it."

"I'd help with the planning. I have six years' worth of experience with the land and the people, and I'd put it at their service. If they can get their affairs here settled and be ready to sail before the winter months, it'd be best."

She nodded, resting her head on my chest. "When do you plan on asking Emmett?"

"Next week when they all descend on us again. But now …"

"Yes, Mr Cullen?"

I lifted her in my arms and walked us back to our bed.

"I'm going to make love to my wife."

This meeting, though necessary, had been running far too long for my liking. My notion of riding into Truro to discuss business with my banker as quickly as I could, and then ride back to Cullen Manor in time for luncheon with my wife—before our friends and family lovingly intruded on us again on the morrow—had turned into wishful thinking at the speed of greased lightning.

First, good old James Pascoe began reminiscing about my father; then, halfway through sorting out my accounts, he sprang on me that Sir Devin Trevelyan, one of the local magistrates and another friend of my father's, would be joining him—us—shortly, and he'd said he wouldn't "mind looking in on Cullen's boy to see how he's getting on".

That had been two hours ago. Now, we'd just been joined by Sir Devin and another local potentate, Sir Leonard Penrose, who'd been so jolly he'd run into me that he proposed we all decamp to the nearby Bull & Crown for a spot of lobster and a convivial pint.

My father had been an active presence within our community as long as he'd lived, and these gentlemen had been his close friends for decades. I couldn't find it in me to shun them now, even if it did inconvenience my plans. Bella, of course, as forward-thinking as ever, had predicted this morning over breakfast that I'd end up spending the day in town and had organised her own day accordingly.

"How about that pint, gentlemen?" asked again Sir Leonard, a tall, sinewy fellow with a rebel mop of ruddy hair he insisted on hiding underneath a sorely outdated wig. I could hardly fault the fellow for his attire since he was well into his seventh decade.

I nodded my assent as Pascoe ushered us all out of his office and into the bustling streets of Truro.

"You just seemed a little peeved there for a moment, my boy."

"I was just thinking, Sir Leonard, that I should've just listened to my wife this morning. Turns out she was right, as she often is."

"Ah, yes. Young Isabella. How is she? I've met her once or twice at the manor. Well, I am an inveterate bachelor, but I have it on good authority that listening to one's wife is usually a good course of action."

Here lay another facet of life in Cornwall where Bella had accrued a few advantages over me during my long absence. She knew all these people, their wives, their children, how they took their tea, and countless other details. Her counsel and observations would be a tremendous help in dealing with them, which could soon become of vital importance to us because, right now, with a pint of dark Cornish ale in my hands and the raucous din of a tavern during market-day luncheon rush resonating in my ears, I had the distinct impression these three august gentlemen had lured me into a well-concocted ambush.

"Pray, how is your beautiful bride? Lady Trevelyan is so fond of her. Although, we haven't seen her since …"

When Sir Devin's features turned ashen, I guessed at his unspoken words. We'd had a very small wedding, Bella and I, which we'd gotten away with because the family was, strictly speaking, still mourning my parents' deaths. Thus, most of our local acquaintances hadn't seen either Bella or me since my mother's wake almost four months ago. A wake marred by my brother's then hostile appearance. It stood to reason that the good society of this corner of Cornwall would have questions, especially given Emmett's marriage into another prominent local family and the circumstances around it.

"She's very well, thank you. I'll be glad to pass along your regards, sir."

"Now, my good fellow, if you're a smart man—and if young Isabella wed you, you must be because that lass never suffered fools gladly—you've figured out that this isn't a purely social occasion."

I couldn't suppress a wry chuckle. At least, they were being outspoken about it. "I had an inkling it wasn't."

"Very well," began again Sir Devin. "Now, we're not here to tell you how to run your affairs, but your father was a dear friend to us, and we'd all like you to know that our friendship extends to you."

"Thank you, Sir Devin. Father was always fond of you, all three of you. He valued your opinions, and so will I. But I'll insist on one thing—I'm my own man. I've been my own man these past six years. It's too late for me to go back now."

With a peace-making pat to my forearm, Pascoe interrupted my rant. "Now, now, there's no need for that, Edward. You forget I handle your money. I know you're neither a simpleton nor a foolhardy lad."

I nodded, reluctant to thank them again verbally lest I appear too servile. They were all my seniors by a few decades, but I'd not made my way in the world by being too accommodating. I also had no idea what they did know about the family's trouble around my father's death and Emmett's estrangement. The furthest idea from me was arming them with more potential ammunition since I had no clue where they stood on that whole sordid matter.

"We heard you've reconciled with your brother, and I speak for Devin and James here," said Sir Leonard. "We've been impressed with your actions, Edward, and wish to commend you for doing so."

Now that came as a surprise. Maybe I'd misjudged their intentions.

"You do?" I couldn't keep the astonished tone out of my voice.

"Yes, my lad. We do."

"Oh."

"Bet you weren't expecting that, were ye?" asked Pascoe.

I shook my head, still not quite sure what tack they'd be on next. Pascoe flagged a boy for a fresh pint, then spoke again. "Who do you think tried to convince Carlisle not to change his damn will? I tried to talk him out of that ridiculous scheme, but he was past seeing reason, alas."

"You knew?"

He nodded sagely along with Trevelyan and Penrose, who answered instead of Pascoe. "We had to pry it out of him. It was worse than pulling teeth. Probably because the old fool knew it was a terrible idea to start with."

"Now, all's well that ends well," said Pascoe. "Still, we thought you had a right to know. Handle things as you see fit. It's squarely within your rights, but know that, at all events, you and your brother were put in an impossible position by a terrible idea your father foisted on both of you. The law is unchangeable—but still, you've shown some solid mettle in the way you've found a way back to your brother."

"And on that note"—Trevelyan continued—"we're asking, if we may, what your future plans are. These parts could use someone with that kind of mettle. There's a vacant magistrate chair, Edward. You could do a lot of good in a position like that."

"Unless you're planning to return to the West Indies. In that case, all our best-laid schemes are moot," concluded Penrose, taking a long swig of his pint.

They'd been straight with me and deserved the same honesty in return. Now, being a magistrate—I'd never even contemplated it.

"Sirs, you do me great honour. And for that, and for your understanding, I am deeply thankful. I have a few things in the works, and if all goes according to my plans, I will not be returning to the Caribbean for some time. That said, your proposition has merit, as my wife would say, but this sort of commitment requires some thinking. And a frank discussion … with my lady wife."

"You do that, my boy. And then come back to us," replied Pascoe.

"Yes, Edward. We're here for you. I'll have Lady Trevelyan write to your Isabella. You should both come for dinner at Penrith when you can spare an evening for us old folks."

With a few more friendly claps to my back and promises of future meetings, I parted ways with the three sages, now feeling a lot more reassured that my actions—finding my way back to Emmett, trying to assist him with his future prospects—wouldn't be regarded as a contemptible about-face against my father's wishes despite what the man himself might have thought this side of the grave.

When I arrived at Cullen Manor after a leisurely ride from Truro, the unexpected and delightful sight of my sister and my wife walking on the front lawn welcomed me.

Alice saw me first and ran to me at such breakneck speed that I feared for her safety for a minute.

"Edward, Edward! Such wonderful news!"

For the second time today, I had a good inkling what the wonderful news might just be.

After I'd washed the grime of the road off me and dressed for dinner, I returned downstairs to find our guests assembled in the drawing room. I bestowed general greetings and well-wishes around the room, but before I played the good host any further with any of them, I found Bella standing by Lady Holcombe and wasted no time drawing her close for a kiss.

Her ladyship's quiet chuckle reminded me that we were no longer alone in our own home, and our guests were also a day ahead of schedule, now I thought about it.

"Good evening, my love. I missed you today."

"Edward …" she chided me in jest, judging by the mirthful look in her eyes. "Behave, won't you? We have guests."

I bowed and kissed Lady Holcombe's hand in greeting. Displaying her usual genial manner, she waved my formalities away. "You're family now, Edward. Enough with the ladyship. I'm Aunt Millie, if you want me to answer you," she ordered with a raised eyebrow.

"Welcome back at Cullen Manor then, Aunt Millie. I trust you had a tolerable journey?"

"Yes, my dear boy. Thank you. But if you confine me with the Hales for an extended stay again, you and I are going to have words."

"Aunt Millie, please … They're not so bad."

"Pshaw," she replied to Bella's comment with a horrified expression on her face. "You can say that because you had far better company this past week," she quipped, winking at me.

"Is that why you all decided to invite yourselves over for dinner, Aunt?" Bella asked, crossing her arms.

At that moment, Jasper and Alice appeared at Lady Holcombe's elbow.

"No, that would be my fault, little one. I told you why."

Bella turned to her cousin with an expression that would have appeared blasé on anyone else. On Bella's features, her eyes alight with mischief and a hint of a smile, I sensed she was ready to lob one of her well-aimed verbal strikes at her cousin.

"Yes, well. You could have sent a note ahead. Jenks nearly had a conniption fit when I told him there were five more people for dinner. He's not used to this, you know?"

It was my turn to raise a disbelieving eyebrow. "Is the old man giving you trouble, my love?"

"No, I'm just enjoying giving Jasper a hard time," she whispered in my ear, leaning closer to me.

Because of the alluring effect of her warm breath on my neck, it took me a beat longer to make sense of her words. I grasped her waist harder under my hand and bent to whisper back into her ear. "Good. Now you behave, darling."

The faint blush blooming on her alabaster cheeks was confirmation enough that I'd had an impact. She heaved a deep sigh to compose herself, and then turned to Jasper again. "He's here now. What are you waiting for?"

A quick look around the room verified for me that Emmett and Rose, who'd been talking in a corner a few steps away from us, had just stepped closer.

"Jasper, do you have any news for me?" I decided to just wade right into it because I was already fairly certain what the news would be. Alice's beatific smile when she greeted me outside had given it away.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

He looked down at Alice, and his features shone with such depths of adoration that I almost felt I was intruding on a private moment. This was the face of a man deeply in love, and my sister looked up at him with the same intensity.

"I asked Alice to marry me yesterday, and by some miracle, she accepted me. May we have your consent?"

"So that's why you all hurried over here, isn't it?" I asked, throwing a glance over at Emmett, who smiled proudly back at me.

"We didn't mean to … intrude … but …" Jasper began, suddenly at a loss for words.

"I insisted, Edward," Alice interrupted. Of course, she had—impatient, enthusiastic, happy girl. She deserved this happiness with the year we'd had so far.

"And Jasper is so lost that he gives in to all your wishes already, doesn't he?" That's when I received a surreptitious elbow into my side, courtesy of my wife. I opened my arms to embrace Alice. "You have my consent, dear sister, with all my heart. Come here."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Edward!"

Jasper nodded his own thanks through Alice's vivacious exclamations. A relaxing pat on her shoulder from Bella sufficed to bring my sister back to earth and in a state fit for polite conversation.

Congratulations and more embraces were passed along to the happy couple from everyone, interrupted only by Jenks, who came in to announce that dinner was served.

With Aunt Millie and my Bella on my arms, I led our merry procession into the dining room, and for one fleeting second, it occurred to me I hadn't seen that many people around my mother's formal table in years nor heard so much laughter and joy.

If I surmised Aunt Millie would corral all of us into the drawing room after dinner to lob jests at my and Bella's expense, for once my assumptions proved incorrect. After dessert, she threw her napkin on the table in a dainty, playful motion, rose from her seat to her full height of four foot nothing, and in a tone hovering halfway between an order and a dare, addressed the female guests with one laconic, adamant word.

"Ladies?"

"What? We don't need to get to know each other anymore?" I asked, quite unable to suppress my own mirth.

"Well, no, dear Edward. I'd love to talk to my girls just now. I'm sure you gentlemen can go deplete your father's—or yours, pardon me—reserve of brandy for a while? Or would our abandonment crush your spirits?"

I had to respond first with a hearty laugh. Lady Holcombe always gave back as good as she got. "We'll endure it as best we can. Won't we, lads?" I asked my two befuddled companions, who nodded wordlessly as the ladies left the room in a huddle of hushed confidences.

"And there they go, talking behind our backs," Emmett said with an equally fatalistic and entirely insincere dramatic gesture.

"More likely, my aunt will be bombarding Bella with inappropriate questions about married life." Did Jasper just turn pale?

"Oh, to be a fly on that wall," mused Emmett, still diverted. "What, brother? You're not curious to hear what your dear wife divulges within the secrecy of this impromptu gynaeceum?"

I was, in fact, curious and would later extract the same information from Bella when I'd be at liberty to tease her into acquiescence in the privacy of our bedchamber. But Emmett didn't need to know that.

"Maybe. Or maybe Bella and I have no such secrets," I added with a ribald wink of my own, eager to see how Emmett would receive a dose of his own medicine. Then I rose from my seat and rang the bell for Jenks, who appeared within minutes.

"Jenks, would you please get one of those bottles of old ale from the wine cellar?"

"The reserve?" asked the old man with a questioning raised eyebrow.

"Yes, we're celebrating my sister's engagement. There's a good man, go fetch it now."

"Well, if it's for Miss Alice …" he answered upon retreating.

After he'd returned with the requested ale, which he'd proceeded to tap and pour into three goblets for us before leaving without another word, I toasted the betrothed couple to Jasper's and Emmett's separate cries of, "Hear, hear!"

"I swear I'll never understand that man's attitude," groused Jasper after a healthy sip of his ale.

"He's known us since we were in britches, good old Jenks," Emmett explained.

"Earlier still. From the cradle, I believe. He's a sort of surrogate grandfather," I added.

"Or cantankerous uncle. Hence the liberties he sometimes takes with us."

Our explanations did nothing to dispel Jasper's unease—he shook his head in disbelief again. "I hope I don't come across as haughty. I'm just not used to this sort of repartees from servants."

"There's the rub, Jasper. Stop regarding him as a servant, and it'll all sound less outlandish," Emmett offered, clinking his goblet to Jasper's again. "Now, your lordship, are you planning on wrangling a special license from an obliging prelate and absconding with our sister faster than she can assemble her trousseau?" Emmett's words were playful, but his expression had turned suddenly sombre.

Jasper sighed, set his glass on the table, and steepled his fingers in a move I'd seen him do a number of times since I met him. He was preparing for a serious discussion.

"No, nothing of the sort, my friends. Rather, I'd like your opinion on a few things."

"Well, we're here. Regale us," I entreated him with a lithe motion of my hands.

"Would you be opposed to Alice and I having our wedding at Whitlock Hall instead of here? I expect it to be fairly well attended, and I wouldn't want to force all those guests on you. There's a lot more space at Whitlock Hall, and … if we were wed at the parish there, I could arrange for my mother to attend quietly, out of people's view."

He'd given much thought to the matter, and I couldn't fault him for wanting his mother to witness his nuptials. Hell, I'd have moved heaven and earth if I could have had my mother at my own. I threw a sidelong glance at Emmett, who nodded his silent assent from his perch beside Jasper.

"We don't mind at all, provided Alice agrees. Whitlock Hall is close to Bella's estate, isn't it?"

"Cygnus Court is within an hour's ride."

"That's settled then. We could all stay at Cygnus Court until the wedding. I'm sure Bella will be pleased with the arrangement."

Jasper nodded. "I think our aunt was already concocting that sort of plan. She'd never let Alice stay at Whitlock Hall before the wedding."

"Well, two weddings before summer's out! We certainly aim to keep a busy schedule around here, don't we?" Emmett quipped.

"As a matter of fact, Alice and I were thinking of the week after Bella's birthday."

"Which falls, if I'm not mistaken, on September 13th. That would put it around six, seven weeks from now, correct?" I said, pre-empting Emmett's own reply. It would not do for a new husband to appear ignorant of his wife's birthday.

Before either of my companions could reply, a short rap on the door announced that our time for manly pursuits away from the ladies had drawn to a close.

"Lady Holcombe ordered me to summon the three of you back into genteel company," announced Alice, who could not help blushing when her gaze landed on her intended. As if on command, he rose to join her.

"Keeping my aunt waiting is never a good idea. I'll accompany you," he said, already herding her out of the room without waiting for us. Alice stopped him, though.

"Edward? Are you and Emmett not coming along?"

This just created a perfect occasion for me to talk to Emmett alone. "In a minute, dear. Convey our apologies to Aunt Millie. We'll join you shortly." With a smile and a nod, she disappeared behind the closed door.

"You didn't just keep us behind to talk about the weather, brother. Or did you?"

"As blunt as ever, upon my word," I replied with a sarcastic smile. My brother knew me far too well. "But I do have an ulterior motive for this conversation."

With a flourish of his hand, Emmett gave me the floor. "Out with it, man."

Now or never. "What would you say if I offered you the post of superintendent and manager of the Cullen Plantation in Jamaica in my stead? You'd live at the lodge there, collect a hefty salary, and look things over for me. You'd have to leave before winter sets in for an optimal ocean crossing."

For once in his life, my burly elder brother appeared to be speechless. "I … I don't know what to say, Edward."

"'Yes' would be a good thing to say."

As his eyebrows rose to his hairline, Emmett abandoned his relaxed stance in his chair to nervously scratch his forehead. "I'm … more than honoured, truly."

"But?"

He heaved a deep, pensive sigh. "I must ask you to bear with me for a while, brother. This requires some pondering on my part. I can't foist this on Rosalie off the cuff."

"Of course. It's a major life change. I understand."

"It would solve a lot of my current problems, that's for sure. I promise you I'll think long and hard about it and talk to Rose."

"You do that, and then come back to me. Now, let's go back to our ladies."

When we rose to make our way to the drawing room, my brother surprised me once again by clasping my shoulder and drawing me into a brotherly hug.

I'd not embraced Emmett since I left for Jamaica almost seven years ago.

A few of you had guessed Edward's intentions to a t. Bravo!

A brief historical note on the gentlemen's conversation about Jasper and Alice's nuptials. Emmett's reference to "an obliging prelate" points to marriage by special license (as opposed to marriage by bans). If you got a special license from a bishop, you didn't need to wait for bans to be read in church for 3 consecutive Sundays.
Also, it's notable that Jasper asks Edward and Emmett permission for them to be married at Whitlock Hall. The norm would be to be married from the bride's home and parish.
Lastly, Edward and Bella being social and receiving guests less than four weeks after their wedding was fairly flexible for the time. They would have been expected to either be on a wedding journey (Victorian-speak for honeymoon) for about a month, or to not return social calls for just as long, after which the bride would don her wedding dress again, and take social callers as a married woman for the first time. But the Cullens live in the country, and we know they are fairly opinionated so ... they're doing what they damn please.

Talk to me people!

ANNOUNCEMENT:

One of our own - Carey Anne Williams - is recovering from COVID-19. As a fandom, we have decided to help however we can in the fundraising effort to help with her medical bills.

We will be doing virtual author panels as Zoom calls—the chance to talk to your favorite authors and ask them all manner of questions. Yours truly will be on the August 16 Zoom call, so if you have any questions for me, on this story, on what comes next, this is your golden opportunity.

All you need to do is make a donation of at least $5 to Carey Williams Go fund me page (www . gf . me /u/x4b6my) and email your receipt to: authors4carey AT gmail .com

You can also find more information about the calls, the participating authors, the calendar of the calls and how to join in this FB group, Authors' 411: www dot facebook dot com /groups / 179090090169978/

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