A/N1: Sorry this one is so late! I got caught up in a few deadlines and the holidays and all that.

"Good morning, love," Carlisle murmured to Isabella as she stirred to life. He kissed her shoulder lightly.
"Morning," she whispered back. It was warm in their room, and even warmer to be tucked this close to him. She didn't mind it. Though she lacked the words to describe how she felt, she felt good. It was a thing of safety, of comfort, of being loved, and more.
"I've sent Marge away." Carlisle's voice remained low. His tone made Isabella shiver.
"Does that mean you will be dressing me today?" she teasingly asked as she pressed closer to him. He was behind her, cradled her in his arms like she was the most precious thing he'd ever held.
"Hmmm… I was hoping we would stay undressed a while longer." Carlisle slid his hand over her hip, invitingly but not overly aggressive in his want for her.
Isabella closed her eyes and she hummed her reply. She shifted her legs to allow him more space, silently consenting. His response was immediately - he pressed his hand between her legs, finding she was still wet from their lovemaking the previous night. It didn't stop him from giving her a good time. He kissed her shoulder again, letting his lips slide over her speckless skin. When he made his way up her neck, she turned her head so they could kiss. She wanted to make a noise, give some sort of affirmation that his fingers were hitting all the right spots, but found herself breathless and unable to produce any sound. Her fingers clawed into the mattress, trying to find some sort of grip, something to hold onto as Carlisle made her muscles clench tighter and tighter.
"Breathe, love," he chuckled before pressing his lips to her jaw again. She released her breath, unaware that she'd been holding it. Almost immediately, a breathy moan escaped her. Her eyes fluttered open, but all she saw was the ceiling.
She turned, forcing him to break his grip on her. He looked a little confused, making her laugh. "Come here." She opened her legs for him, pulling on his arm to get him on top of her. He started to retract his hand, but before he could, she mumbled, "keep it there," a little embarrassed.
She tried to keep her eyes open, reading his response as she hooked one leg around his hip, digging her heel into his back to push him closer to her, to force him to enter her. The urge to close her eyes was strong, but she forced them open. Carlisle's eyes fluttered open and closed as he pushed deep into her. His cheeks were flushed.
With effort, she pushed herself out of the mattress to kiss him. She slung an arm around his neck and pulled him down with her. At the same time, she forced her hips up, bucking them against his to set them in motion. It made him moan her name, and she laughed elatedly. He followed, half-laughing, half-moaning as he thrust into her. It quickly brought her back to the edge. Her eyes closed again and she curved her spine up, pressing her head into the pillow and her hips up against his. Her world was spinning, but in a good way. She managed another breathy moan when she came. Her body went limp, her muscles weak from the climax. Above her, Carlisle was breathing unevenly as he came, too.
He all but collapsed on top of her. She threw an arm around his back and kissed his jaw, keeping him close. "If someone had told me that this would be so much fun, I would've married sooner," she joked, still breathless.
Carlisle laughed before kissing her. "I'm happy you waited. Who else would I have married if not you?"
"Oh, I'm sure Rosalie would have been happy to fish for a duke," Isabella chuckled. She flung her other leg around his hip and used the momentum to turn them over, placing Carlisle firmly under her. "In fact, I think I have made some enemies by going and stealing the only available duke away from right under their noses."
"I would not have cared for any of those title-obsessed minxes." He let his hand trail her side before settling on her hip. "You are my perfect bride."
Isabella laughed. She peeled his fingers from her hip and slid off him, out of the bed. "Glad to hear it." Her travel dress and undergarments were still on the floor by the bed. She picked them up and started to dress herself. When Carlisle remained quiet, she turned to look at him.
He was still in bed, arms up and underneath his head. "I'm enjoying the view," he said when she raised her eyebrows. "Besides, I'm sure I can dress myself faster than you can."
"The privilege of being a man," she sighed, thinking of her few sets of men's clothes and how quick and easy it was to get dressed in them. I wonder if Marge saw them. And if she packed them for me. I won't be using them, now that I'm married. Yet the thought of having some clothes she could sneak away in, was comforting to her.
"You should know," Carlisle replied, his tone now unreadable to her.
"I'd forgotten that you knew." Isabella clicked the hooks of her corset in place and reached behind her to tighten the laces.
"How could I?"
"I won't be using them anymore, now." Suddenly, she felt attacked and called out for having men's clothes, and for having used them to access a different kind of life.
"I know." The bed creaked as Carlisle got out of it as well. He came to her and pulled her in his arms, lightly swaying from side to side with her, as if they were dancing. "It doesn't matter what you wear. You'll always look wonderful to me."
Her nervosity dissipated. "I feel flattered."
"It's my job to make you feel flattered." He let go of her to get his own clothes. "One I take very seriously, mind you."
She laughed. "Consider it a job well done."

By the time they arrived in Bath, it was dinner time.
Carlisle's great-aunt, Ethel, waited for them in the hallway. "There you are, I thought you would never arrive!" she exclaimed. Without waiting for Carlisle to come closer, without any regard for etiquette, she swung a bony arm around his waist and kissed him on his cheek. "It's good to see you, boy. It's been too long."
"I agree, auntie," he said.
"Well, let's not spoil more words on it. Let me see your bride!" Her walking stick clicked loudly on the wooden floors of the hall as she stepped towards Isabella.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Isabella said, crossing her ankles as she curtseyed.
Ethel swatted Isabella against her ankles with her walking stick. "Stop that nonsense, girl. I'll have none of that in my house."
"Of course… ahm…" Only now did Isabella realise she had no clue what Ethel's title was. I should have asked Carlisle.
"Call me auntie," Ethel said as she stepped closer to inspect Isabella. "You're tall."
Isabella had no clue what to say. "Am I?"
"Maybe I'm short." Ethel placed her thin arm around Isabella and pulled her towards herself with a surprising strength. She kissed Isabella on her cheeks with loud smacks. "You'll do for my boy. Now come, I need to eat." There was no chance for Isabella to protest as the older lady dragged her into the dining room. Carlisle shot her an apologetic glance as he followed them in.

"Did you sleep well?" Ethel asked the second Isabella sat down for breakfast. Isabella glanced across the table, at Carlisle. "Of course, auntie." In fact, she hadn't done much sleeping. The beds at Ethel's house had been more comfortable than the inn they'd slept in the previous night, and Carlisle had shown her all the corners of it. "The beds here are so comfortable," she added, unsure of what to say next.
"You look like you haven't slept a wink," Ethel said. "But I suppose that's the life of newlyweds."
"Auntie, please, you're making Isabella uncomfortable," Carlisle said, his tone low and pleading.
"I think it's you I'm making uncomfortable," Ethel countered. "Your bride seems well at ease. Are you going into town today? I have some errands I need you to run for me."
"We were planning on exploring the town centre. I'd like to take Isabella to the bathhouse, too."
"Oh dear, you may have to book in advance. With the season over, everyone is flocking back home. It's busier than ever," Ethel complained. "I don't know what's wrong with the bathing facilities people have at home, but I might be too old to understand."
"Bath is known for the bathhouses," Carlisle said, now looking at Isabella. "Isabella has never been before. I think it'll be nice for her to see."
"I think it's you that wants to see her there." Ethel wasn't afraid to say scandalous things out loud. "Oh, I remember when I was a newlywed…"

Isabella and Carlisle strolled through the town centre in silence. It was a busy market day. There was plenty to see, and Isabella craned her head to look around, only anchored in place by her arm through Carlisle's.
"Is your aunt always so…" Isabella didn't know how to end the sentence.
"I'm sorry," Carlisle mumbled, a little embarrassed, "I should have warned you. She's an eccentric."
"I can tell!" Isabella chuckled. "I like her."
"Oh, good." He sounded relieved.
"Is there a reason you chose to see her first?"
"The rest of my family is infinitely more boring," Carlisle said, "so I thought… if you dislike auntie Ethel, it'll be one and over with. And if you really like her, I figured it would be a good start to our travels, considering everyone else is much more proper."
"I like her," Isabella repeated. "It's nice to meet someone less obsessed with etiquette and rules and behaviour." She dragged him towards a stall with ribbons. "That's pretty." She pointed out a purple satin ribbon. "It's a shame I don't own anything purple."
"We'll get the tailor to make something when we're home." Carlisle promised.
"I'd like to make something for myself, too," she murmured, in a much more quiet tone. "Esme helped me improve my skill before we married, and I'd like to keep up with what she taught me." Maybe I can make something for our future child.
When they strolled further, Isabella spotted a farmer with a large box, standing between two stalls. Carlisle stopped by a stall to get something for Ethel, and she let go of his arm to inspect the box.
The closer she got, the louder the soft mewls and poorly-developed barks became. "Oh! They're adorable," Isabella complimented the farmer as she looked into the box, counting six puppies with a momma dog.
"Thank you, Miss. Feel free to hold them if you want to," the farmer replied.
Isabella bent forwards to pet the pups. One of them was pushed off the side, and when it tried to come closer to its mummy, the other pups drove it away again. "Oh, baby," Isabella murmured under her breath. She reached further and picked the rejected pup up. It was skinny and immediately crawled as close to Isabella's chest as it could. "Oh, baby," she whispered to the small animal. "Aren't you the sweetest?"
"They're for sale if you want one, Miss," the farmer said. "Although I don't think that one will do you much good if you're looking for a guard or a yard dog."
"Isabella?!"
She turned to look at the square, still holding the pup. "Here!" Carlisle was only a few stalls away. "I think we'll take… her?" She turned the pup to check if it was a boy or a girl. "Him," she corrected. "If I can convince my husband."
"If you can convince me of what?" Carlisle appeared by her side.
"To take the pup," she said, handing the small animal to him. "Isn't he cute?"
"Well…" Carlisle didn't look convinced.
"Please?"
"Alright…" With a sigh, Carlisle reached for his money to pay the farmer for the pup. "What will you name him?"
"Momo," she decided immediately. "We'll name him Momo."

A/N2: It might not seem like it, but we're getting close to the end of the story. I can't say exactly how many more chapters I'll write, but I estimate it will between 3-5.

As always, I'm eager to hear your thoughts and read your comments.