AUDEAMUS
Chapter 4
The vast chimneypiece was indeed the main focus of the grand rooms. Like most pieces, it too had been given a classical treatment. The white paint was ornate with gold in the linings and as the fire kept dancing away, its heat radiated through the already much too warm room. Bella saw her reflection in the mirror that topped the fireplace, two ornate china vases with large blooming flowers in black lined the tall mirror in its golden frame.
Her hair was swept away from her face, neat curls pinned at the back of her head with a stray lock resting on her shoulder. She had skipped the whitening cream that so many other girls would use—it only gave them blemishes anyways. She had skipped the rouge as well, pinching her cheeks was enough. The dress was too tight, the modernized dark blue robe à l'anglaise with the white front and modest brocade trimmings constricted her breathing. Renée, her mother, had made her wear a new corset for such a formal occasion.
Alas, she looked miserable as the music played on.
Plasterwork ceilings, carved wood, and bold schemes of wall paint formed a backdrop to increasingly rich collections of furniture, paintings, porcelain, mirrors, and a few marble busts lining the walls.
The Masens were celebrating the return of their children—most of them. Edward Masen's absence was noticeable, especially by the other young women attending the party. When word spread that the young son of the Baron was not engaged or married, all women sought to look their best for their first interaction with him.
"He is to arrive in a few months," was all a disconcerted Esmeralda could say as Jessica Stanley and her friends had inquired for him in a most careful manner.
When invitations to the dinner and party at the Masen's had been sent to their house, her father was climbing the walls in excitement. Bella thought he would have a fit as he kept insisting Renée and she got themselves new dresses.
Bella turned to search him in the vast crowd. There, amongst some of his new, rich friends, he stood, in a powdered wig and puffing out his chest, fixing the cravat in place. Bella noted other men wearing the passé powdered wigs while the younger generations opted for gathering their long hair in a loose tail.
She was moving to slip by Jessica Stanley and Angela Webber when she bumped into someone.
"I am terribly sorry," Bella exclaimed as she turned around in horror. She hoped it was not one of those fops—someone who would instantly make a scene. But indeed not.
"The fault is mine, I was not paying attention," the young woman said smiling. Her raven hair was gathered in a tight bun, showing her angular features and striking golden eyes. Her skin was as white as snow and the smile lit up her whole face.
"Have we been introduced?" she asked.
As the quartet continued playing, the buzz in the room died away to the pleasant music. "I do not believe we have, miss," she responded.
The young woman looked pensive. "Do not move from here and I shall be right back!" she said as she disappeared in between the well-dressed men and women. The train of her high-waisted dress was the last she saw before an older gentleman stepped where she once had stood. Bella arched an eyebrow but did as she bade. The strong waft of overused perfume had already managed to bring a headache and the loud chatter combined with the music did not help. She reached for a glass of port and sipped on the alcohol until the young woman kept true to her promise, soon returning with Esmeralda Masen and some young man in tow.
Esmeralda's face lit up as she saw Bella stranded in the middle of the vast sitting room, sipping on a glass of wine.
"Miss Swan," the Baroness exclaimed, taking her hand in hers. "I see you've stumbled upon our youngest daughter," Esmeralda said as she pointed at the young woman with the black hair. "Allow me to introduce Alice, my daughter." Alice curtsied as her mother gestured at her. "And also, allow me the pleasure of introducing her husband, Jasper Hale," she said. A tall, good-looking man with honey blond hair neared them, a faint smile spread on an otherwise shy countenance as he took her hand. Mr. Hale bent over it and kissed it lightly as Bella curtsied.
"This is Miss Isabella Swan, of whom I have been speaking of," Esmeralda said.
Alice's eyes sparkled at the familiar name. "I figured as much, mother. Miss Swan and I practically bumped into one another. I should call that fate," Alice smiled.
"Indeed," Bella added, already liking the spirit of the young woman. "And some clumsiness on my part, perhaps," she blinked. Alice let out a slight laugh.
"We arrived just a few days ago and my breath has been taken away by the countryside. The surroundings here are indeed beautiful," Alice said. She reached for an empty glass on the table next to them and poured a glass for her husband. Alice reached for two other glasses, pouring one for herself and her mother who took it, starting once more to make the rounds of the room.
"I am glad you are liking Cadherra," Bella said with genuine gratitude. "This province has a lot to offer. The view from the Durun Mountains, by Adelton Hall, is breathtaking," she said. As Bella continued speaking of the natural surroundings of her home, she got taken away, despite herself. But to her absolute delight, both Mr. Hale and his wife were swept away with her.
"Miss Isabella Swan, quite the name you have there," Alice smiled and mentioned what any other new acquaintance would.
Bella's ears turned red and the blush claimed her face. If there was one thing she would get annoyed with her mother, it was the name she had been given.
Isabella Swan was not as a familiar a name today as it had been almost three hundred years ago. But many knew the story of General Edward Cullen who had lived and fought for his country during the war with the English and later, during the Angloan war of succession. And many knew his love; Isabella, who had stood faithfully by his side. Theirs was a tragic romance that would have every woman in the country sigh and feel their eyes water and their chests clench as it was told from generation to generation.
In spring of 1521, the revered General Cullen had taken a nasty wound in battle during the end of the Angloan war when an attack was set upon the castle of Adelton Hall. It was said that he had taken his last breath in Isabella's arms and that her cry at his passing could still be heard some eerie nights when the wind tore excessively at the castle's façade. Eventually, the young woman had been invited to court in Safeira, at the request of the new king: William Fell, after the war ended. She was eventually asked to marry him and soon after their bond, her pregnancy was revealed. Questionable circumstances demanded to know if the child she carried had belonged to the famed general. But when the child was born, a healthy daughter, carrying the same copper hair like her father and the same eyes as her mother, there was no doubt as to who had sired her.
The maiden name, Swan, had died away when the countess had married the king. Bella's own family name, Swan, had no connections to that esteemed and noble family, come to Angloa once from Spain—changing their name to the English counterpart.
"There are no ties to that grand family. My father's family had it altered when he was a young man." She frowned a little. "My mother is in love with the story of Isabella Swan," she continued. "I suppose she wished to name me so since we live in the same province that she was Countess of."
Alice let out a slight chuckle. "How wonderful. I think most of us Angloans enjoy that story," she said. Jasper nodded, rather vigorously. "Ah, yes. You see, Miss Swan, my husband is fascinated by history—especially the history this part of the country holds. How quaint your name should have ties with the story of General Edward Cullen."
Her eyebrow arched. "Many come here, hoping to find his grave in Raven's Grove. It is said to be hidden after his funeral, that no one has ever found it during these three hundred years," Bella said, directing her attention to Jasper now. Then she could not help as her lips stretched. "But perhaps you will have more luck than the others. Indeed, I should hope so."
Jasper fought a blush and redirected the attention from him. "I found it intriguing when I heard your name uttered for the first time, Miss Swan," Jasper opened up. The shyness died away as they delved into territory he really enjoyed exploring.
"It is what most people notice once they hear my name for the first time. Thus, I insist most call me Bella," she said smiling.
"I think it is romantic," Alice chimed in. "That you should share name with a former queen of Angloa. How wonderful that your mother is fond of history!"
"Too fond, I fear. At least of that story. But who does not enjoy the tale of the general and his Isabella?" Bella smiled. She turned to Jasper once more. "I have seen some ruins in the forest, but I think they stem from a later date. We do have a statue of Cullen in the old square that was raised half a century after his death. However, I suspect you have seen his portrait that hangs in Wessport Palace and in Safeira," she stated.
"Indeed, I have," Jasper nodded.
"There is a memorial place for him by the edge of the woods. It is not hard to find, I could take you," Bella offered. Jasper's face split into a charming smile—a genuine expression that filled her with warmth.
"I would be most indebted to you."
"Then it is settled," Alice said eagerly. "I will send over someone and maybe we can talk about the specifics over tea someday?"
Bella fought hard not to wince. She hated tea. But obviously Alice and Jasper Hale didn't know that. "That sounds lovely," she lied. Meeting Mrs. Hale she looked forward to, the tea she did not.
"You must meet my older sister and her husband," Alice exclaimed.
Bella agreed with all her heart. She was eager to meet the other sister as well. She had few friends in Hayes. Those she had, worked for her family and they were at different stations in life, whether she liked it or not. People in her circles were not usually those she would want to spend time with. Jessica Stanley and her group of friends would sometimes vex her with their constant gossiping and scrutinizing of other, better people. Bella had no time nor strength for that.
Alice finally found her sister and Bella was taken aback by the beauty that stood speaking and laughing with one of her neighbors, Mrs. Wells. The golden locks of the woman were confined in an elegant up-do, swept away from her face. Her intricate golden eyes shone in the bright candlelight and her red lips broke into a smile as she spoke with the woman.
"Rosalie," Alice called as they ended their sentences. Rosalie turned to face her sister and her company. "I have someone I want you to meet. This is Isabella Swan, the young woman that mama and papa have been speaking so much of," she said as she introduced Bella.
"Miss Swan, this is my sister, Rosalie McCarty."
Rosalie curtsied in a swift and elegant motion. It was clear to Bella that she took after her mother in that department. She held the same elegance as Esmeralda did, the same poise.
"Emmett has run off, or I would have you meet my husband as well," Rosalie said. Bella noted how stiff her face was. She did not smile as easily as her sister. She offered her a cold smirk instead and Bella wondered what she had done for Rosalie to so readily show such distaste for her already. When Jessica Stanley turned around to join them, Bella understood why.
"Oh, Miss Swan, I did not know you would be here tonight," Jessica said in a sweet manner. "How proper!" the young woman exclaimed. "I was just speaking to Mrs. McCarty about our afternoon gatherings and how she and her sister are more than welcome.
"Indeed," Bella said. "Lovely times," was all that she managed rather dryly.
"I hope you do not find our town too dull," Jessica began.
"It is peaceful," Alice said. "But after traveling around so much and living in a hectic city, that is what we might need now."
"I would caution you not to draw such drastic conclusions, my dear," Jessica told Alice.
"Really?" Alice furrowed her brow in confusion.
"Miss Stanley was just telling me the most amazing tale," Rosalie began.
"It is no tale, Mrs. McCarty. These are true events that have happened over the course of the past few weeks." She fanned herself, allowing the liquid in her crystal cup to slide down her throat as she built the suspense.
"Mama mentioned something," Alice said as she tried to remember what it was. Bella kept her mouth shut, trying hard not to send daggers Jessica's way. The sorrows of the Black family were not some amusing tale, it was a sad reality they had to deal with.
"We had a citizen, a Mr. Black, up in arms over some slightly raised taxes. The captain of the Royal Guard stationed in Hayes dealt with him. The rest of the townspeople were up in arms over it, for some reason. The same night of his imprisonment, someone managed to break into the garrison and rescue him in the dead of night!"
"How intriguing," Alice stated. "And how on earth did this person manage to break into the garrison? Are there not enough soldiers manned here?"
"Of course there are. No one knows as no one saw it. The soldiers who were there that night will not speak of it and Captain Forster is more silent than a grave. Trust me, I've tried to coax it out of him," Jessica uttered in slight frustration. "However, as Mr. Black ran away from the law, Captain Forster felt it best to hold someone accountable, so he imprisoned the son."
"What?" Alice and Jasper uttered in unison. "That is highly unjust. Why should he imprison the son for the sins of the father?"
For the first time, Bella slipped into the conversation. "Best not ask questions like these here," she mumbled.
They all sent a glance her way as Jessica kept fanning away. "I have to agree with Miss Swan. Captain Forster does not take kindly to inquisitive people," she pointed out.
"Yet you, Miss Stanley, went after him and demanded answers yourself," Jasper allowed himself to remark.
Jessica shut her mouth then and Bella had to fight hard to hide her smirk. Jasper was right, and it seemed he had made Miss Stanley realize her folly.
"I find these days that things are strange indeed. The reports I hear from France are just ghastly. I always wanted to go there as a little girl and now it seems there is nothing left to go to. Madmen run the government and have painted the streets of Paris red," Rosalie said as she shuddered, quickly changing the subject.
Bella, like most of those around her, knew exactly what she spoke of. But few ever talked of the events on the country across the sea. The king of Angloa was afraid the same thing would happen in his country. Half mad and with half a wit he had given up power to more cunning men.
"We do not bother with such alarming news, dear," Jessica practically muttered under her breath. There were subjects not even she would breach. "And I believe it should be kept that way."
It was not forbidden to speak of the revolution happening in France. But it was greatly sneered upon by Captain Forster and enough to attract his unwanted attention. One morning a family might ponder on the words liberté, égalité, fraternité—the next morning they might find themselves in a cell, with charges of civil unrest. The worst of them got charges of treason, quickly dismissed whenever Forster spoke to them; the men would admit to lesser charges just to get away from the gallows, without knowledge as to what their rights were.
Bella, like so many others, had learned it was best not to speak of such things. "We are true and loyal to the crown," Jessica began ceremoniously. "And we will not be carried away like the people were in France. Revolution and rebels have no place here."
She stared emptily at her glass and downed the rest of the port. Her brown eyes glanced around in the room and felt trapped. What Jessica Stanley said couldn't be further from the truth. Had she not heard at least half of the men in this room speak of a new world? The men who now ruled Angloa did so with an iron grip, pressing the people more than they ought to. They were afraid of an uprising, paranoid that their established world would come crumbling down. First, the colonies in the New World had rebelled, now a monarchy had fallen at the hands of its own people. There were other countries in Europe taking precautions, making sure they were not the next in line.
Bella knew what to do—she knew to keep her head down, like the rest of them.
She was drawn back to the conversation, the sound returned, the waft of too strong perfume overcame her, and she perceived Rosalie's dulcet tone speaking with all its refinement.
"…I should think him a brave man then," she finished saying.
"Mr. Ridge is a sweetheart. Too idealistic, alas, if you ask me," Jessica said. "But his heart is in the right place." She sipped on her wine. Bella sometimes wondered if there was more to Jessica Stanley than she perceived. She knew she did not like her nor her gossiping friends. But she found, sometimes, that she caught glimpses of the young woman, that her mask slipped and someone else hiding underneath it fought hard to stay hidden.
"Mr. Ridge is the embodiment of what is good in Angloa," Bella said, staring at the group. "He helps others, not caring what it will do to him. He has ideals that the rest of us should strive for—good and honest ideals that are just and fair. Hayes is lucky to have an attorney such as he," she smiled.
Jessica gave her a small smirk while Rosalie promptly followed. "What is this? A secret endearment? I had no idea, Miss Swan!" Jessica exclaimed. Bella's eyes widened in horror.
"Oh no, you have completely misunderstood me!" she protested. "I did not mean it in that way."
"Of course not, dear. I was just in jest," Jessica blinked. "That reminds me. I heard Captain Forster had spread the word that he wants Billy Black to hand himself over to the Royal Guard. He wants us all to spread the word—to our family, friends, maids, servants and so on."
"He hopes to reach this rescuer that way?" Alice asked, intrigued by the prospect.
"Well, we have no idea of where he stands in society. Spreading the word by mouth seems far better than putting up a notice. How do we know if this person can even read if he even is learned enough for that?" Jessica asked, but more to herself than to anyone in particular.
"He managed to thwart a garrison full of soldiers," Bella remarked dryly. "I think he would know of Forster's thoughts before any of us. He must have his ways."
"Either way, Jacob Black cannot have his trial before his father joins him. Judge Johnson agrees with Forster on this. Young Mr. Black will have to wait an awfully long time if his father continues to tarry."
"I do not believe Mr. Black would make his son suffer. He must not know of this information then," Bella said, defending the old man.
The rest of the evening she spent in the presence of Alice and Jasper Hale. The conversation with Jessica Stanley had brought new information to her. She wondered if Billy Black would demand to be taken back to the garrison. She could almost imagine the rescuer sour at the prospect—sending the man he freed back to his prison. She wondered what kind of man—or woman for that matter—had saved Billy. Bella wondered if Billy would ever reveal his identity to any of them.
The following morning had taken her to the center of Hayes. She could not sleep as the rays of the sun invaded her bedroom. As summer neared and June was just around the corner, the days grew longer and even warmer. The budding flowers had fully blossomed, and the valley was a painting of different colors as different flowers graced the vast meadow.
She visited the baker and bought some sweet pastries for her and the kitchen staff. She knew Dory loved sugary foods. Bella started nibbling at a pastry when she, together with the other people gracing the old square near the statue, almost stumbled in their step at what they saw.
She dropped the pastry as her mouth followed with it on its descent to the ground. April sensed her change in state and stopped swiftly.
Riding into the square, no doubt on his way to the garrison, was no other than Billy Black in the flesh. Bella could hardly believe what she was seeing. To think the man they had been speaking of and speculating over was now here, before her, was truly surreal.
"Miss Swan," he nodded in acknowledgment as he saw her stare at him in bewilderment. The other townspeople had no words. Mr. Black appeared like a specter in front of them. "I suppose the way to the garrison is clear?" he asked an equally bewildered Mr. Simmons. The old man, always by his chessboard, staring at the passersby, had no words. Only a nod followed the question. Billy smiled and rode onwards.
Bella forgot the fallen pastry as she urged April to follow the older man astride the brown speckled horse. He rode indeed all the way to the garrison whereby he dismounted the horse and sent it on its merry way. The animal knew where to go it seemed, for as soon as the rider had let go for the reins, it doubled back and galloped toward what she suspected was Raven's Grove.
"I am here to give myself up, upon the request of Judge Johnson and Captain Forster—but only on the understanding that my son and I are to have a trial. A just trial this time," he said to the soldiers guarding the closed doors to the garrison. They gripped their muskets and could not believe what they were seeing. One of them shouted for the doors to be opened and just at that moment, Sgt. Thompson chose to step out of the inner courtyard. No doubt that he was on his way to the inn across the square.
"Mr. Black?" he exclaimed as he saw Billy stand before him. "I thought you escaped!" the sergeant scratched his head.
"I am returned Sgt. Thompson, here to give myself up," Billy responded. He stretched his arms forward, ready to be taken away.
Slowly Thompson's sluggish mind started working and he realized the chance he had before him. "Lancers, arrest this man!" he exclaimed with childish glee. "Oh, the captain will be so proud with me," he mumbled to himself.
Another lancer turned to the chubby sergeant with a frown on his face. "But sergeant," he said in an innocent voice. "You didn't catch Mr. Black. He handed himself over to us," the soldier remarked. Thompson turned red at such words.
"Hush, buffoon! What matters is that we have Mr. Black. The details of his capture are not important!" he said. Billy rolled his eyes as they took him inside the garrison. The doors closed yet Bella could hear the booming voice of the sergeant shout; "Captain Forster, I have caught your escaped prisoner! He handed himself over!"
She heard some commotion behind those closed doors, but the distinct and striking voice of Forster could soon be heard. "If he handed himself over, you didn't catch him, idiot!" the captain muttered loud enough for her and some other townsfolk to hear through the thick wooden gates.
Bella stared at the closed doors and quickly urged April into a canter. She needed to visit Mr. Ridge and Mr. Johnson.
Billy heard the impact before feeling it. It was almost sickening, the way the wood hit his body. The air left his lungs and he thought he might not see another sunrise from that moment. He could hear the loud protests of Jacob in the distance.
The old man had suspected he would meet some resistance when returning. The man who had rescued him did not want to let him go—to just waltz in. He remembered so vividly him saying how he could get Jacob out too. But Billy did not want both him and his son wandering around, always looking over their shoulders. His wife may have passed, but he still had a duty to his son.
As the thick piece of wood landed against his ribs again, he started regretting his decision. But Billy was determined to remain quiet.
"You will tell us the identity of the man who snuck you out of the garrison!" shouted Captain Forster. His long dark hair had slipped out of its confinements and some tresses hung in front of his face. He looked like a rabid dog, ready to bite him. But Billy Black would not say anything, even if he could.
The flicker of the candle cast grotesque shadows inside the dim room. He sensed the waft of hay. The metallic tang of blood was unavoidable. He knew where Forster stood—he was the only soldier with the impeccably polished boots.
"He ain't talkin' Cap'n," one of the lancers said.
"He will. Leave us," he heard Forster say through the fog that had started descending on him. Billy fought against the chuckle that threatened to escape him. Had he not been promised fair treatment? Where were Mr. Ridge and this judge when he needed them? Billy wondered if this was how Forster treated others in town. It was clear to him that this was a common practice—to throw people in cells and beat the living daylights out of them.
He heard a scuffle of footsteps and the lancer disappeared, only leaving Billy with Forster.
"Mr. Black," Forster said as he got down on his level, contemplating his work. "We are both honorable men, I would assume," he said with a sneer.
Billy kept his mouth shut. He still had not enough air in his lungs to utter even a syllable. There had to be some pretty nasty bruises forming under his waistcoat. Some ribs might even be cracked for all he knew.
"And men of honor don't tarry about. You can spare yourself this treatment if you would only cooperate," Forster said with such gentle manners that Billy was inclined to believe him. But he would not let himself be manipulated. The vicious captain had taken one step too far. He might have lived like a little lord for this past year. But he overstepped his boundaries and he would pay for it.
"I have little to tell you," the old man managed in one breathless sentence. He winced at the pain it caused in his midriff, gripping at the straw covering the floor as his whole body ached.
There was only the sound of his uneven breaths and the flickering of candlelight. Never had he felt so enclosed before, so trapped. He rose his head out of pride and stared right into Captain Forster's piercing eyes. "And if I could, I would never tell you anything," he said, managing to spit into the soldier's face. The blood mixed with the spit slid down his polished face and Forster ceremoniously wiped it away.
"Very well," was all that he said before stepping away. His face had turned into a cold and undiscerning mask. The lack of emotion disturbed Billy more than when he had seen the rabid ire while Forster beat him. "I shall go and have a visit with your son. Perhaps giving him the same treatment will make you see reason," the man said, stepping away. Billy's eyes widened, and he tried to sit up.
"Wait! No! Not Jacob," was all he managed to say before the heavy iron door enclosed him in that solitary dungeon cell.
He wondered how long he lay there, breathing in and out, trying his best not to give up. The hours merged together, and Billy listened intently for any sign of his son. He heard no screams, so his hope was up high.
At one time, some soldiers came in and helped him wash up and gave him some change of clothes. Billy wondered for what that might be until someone was let into his cell.
He sat leaning against the damp stonewall of the small space when Mr. Ridge stepped in. The lawyer held, as per usual, a stack of paper, dressed in dark, formal clothing and pushed his half-moon spectacles up his nose.
Lucas was taken aback by what he saw. Billy Black, the always proud and forward-thinking man sat in a crumpled heap against the wall—the very picture of defeat. When his black eyes looked up to meet Lucas', he perceived a split lip and some dark bruises forming along the left side of his face.
"What on earth have they done to you?" Mr. Ridge uttered in horror. He rushed to Billy and sat by his side.
"It is the hospitality of Captain Forster," Billy joked, wincing as he had moved too much when speaking.
"Has the man no shame? Does he think he can get away with this?" Lucas asked, but more to himself than to Billy.
"Listen to me, Lucas," Billy began. He had known the man as a faint acquaintance for the time he had lived in Hayes. "Forster is not even worried by the trial—he thinks it will be over quickly. You have to get me, or at least my son, out of here!" Billy exclaimed in desperation. "You have to make sure the trial is open for all to see, not like last time. It was enclosed, and Forster played the part of prosecutor, judge and would-be executioner. I was a breath away from hanging, had it not been for that man," Billy said. "We cannot allow him to do the same thing twice."
"Fear not, Mr. Black. This time will be different. The law works in your favor. It is Captain Forster who should fear it."
But Billy Black had a strange feeling in his gut, something almost primal that told him it would not work out so well. Forster was almost too sure that he would win.
The date for the trial had been set for the following week, in two days. Bella had kept trying to see Jacob as much as possible in the meantime but was not allowed admittance anymore into the garrison. It was only by bribing Sgt. Thompson with a whole stack of meat pies and various bottles of fine Madeira that she would get access to see the younger Mr. Black.
Jacob was usually in a sour mood, distrusting of most. He had heard of the ill-treatment of his father from Mr. Ridge. But it was something he did not wish to tell Bella Swan. The reason for the delay in the trial was so that Mr. Black's wounds would not be so prominent. If the public knew of his ill-treatment, Forster might take a heavy blow—if the captain should care. It was the madman's belief that fear was the only way to rule the simple people of Hayes with.
It was a cloudy afternoon when the carriage took them through the thick of the forest. Alice kept looking at the scenery in bewilderment. Bella had decided to get away from the drama in Hayes and invited Alice Hale on a trip into the forest, after showing the memorial for General Cullen. They would go by open carriage. Jasper was with them, as was Esmeralda. The women were completely taken with their surroundings.
The mystery of the forest provoked an eerie shudder in them. They did not see far in between the trees, the blueish light that settled in between further guarded the secrets of the woods. The thick crowns allowed little of the gray daylight to filter through.
"I keep expecting to be set upon by a group of bandits," Alice murmured. But she did not seem frightened. Instead, she almost grew giddy. Jasper was taken by the aura of Raven's Grove as well.
"It does indeed feel like this forest hosts the soul of Cullen," he murmured as the wind blew through the trees. Bella offered little conversation as she rested against the side of the carriage, letting the driver take them further on. This was only the main road—it was not that interesting. What truly mattered was the vast world between those trees—a world the ladies and gentlemen present would not venture into.
"You seem distraught, my dear," Esmeralda finally said. Bella snapped out of her thoughts and turned her attention to the group. She found them all eyeing her.
"I apologize," she said with a small blush. "It was not my intent."
Esmeralda, or Esme, as Alice would call her, gave Bella an understanding look. "This whole Billy Black affair and trial has us all unsettled. But I am certain it will soon be over. Are you well acquainted with them?" asked Esmeralda.
The carriage pulled them forward and Bella sensed the winds growing stronger. The trial was in two days, but that felt like a lifetime. "I am childhood friends with the son. They are a respectable and honest family. I am sad to see them treated this way."
Esmeralda took her hands. "Let us return. We shall see the rest of the forest some other day when the sun is out, and the rains don't threaten to fall," the older woman said smiling. It was only then that Bella felt a big drop smash the top of her head. The rains were already upon them it seemed. The driver turned the carriage around and made haste back to the town.
None were aware that in between the trees a pair of shrouded eyes kept watch over them, narrowing as they processed the conversation that now floated through the trees.
A/N: My goal is to try to upload two times a week (no promises) since most of this story is already finished, I am working on the final chapters and retouching along the way. Thanks for the reviews! I always appreciate them!