AUDEAMUS
Chapter 9
Critical eyes traced over the neat handwriting once more. It was cloudy for being in the middle of the summer. Raven's Grove had grown surprisingly chilly since morning. Perhaps a storm was nearing. Or perhaps it was not a physical storm, but rather a metaphorical manifestation of what was to come. Was this, then, the calm before it? With Major Collins now ruling with a firm and just grip over Hayes, all should be well. Alas, something was still not right, and many questions were left unanswered.
And as Bella looked at the slip of paper containing the last words of Mr. Ridge, she suspected more questions would come. Why had this been left here? Had it been a careless slip by the soldiers as they took the body of Mr. Ridge away and started investigating his death? Had there even been an investigation? Everything looked—just like the maid had said—much like Ridge had left it.
And, one further question remained unanswered, one thing that visibly seemed to affect even the calm Major Collins himself.
The mysterious rescuer. The man who had managed to whisk Mr. Black out of the garrison twice.
The only witness who would speak, and who happened to be a civilian was also the one they all would least trust when it came to these matters. Mr. Simmons was not a delirious man, but he was known to stretch the truth. She did wonder, however, if the shadows of night had not played tricks on him. Many things could be twisted to the naked eye, she thought as she kept looking at the handwriting.
And then a switch went off in her head. It was as if a candle had flickered on in a moment of pure realization. Had someone been there to witness her expression change, they might have found it a comical sight. But as Bella looked at the writing more and more, she began to realize something. That something was very wrong with Mr. Ridge's neat and stylish handwriting.
Indeed, it was his handwriting. But, at the same time, it was not. She had been to his office many times, had seen the stacks of documents on the floor and then the neat ledgers in his bookshelf. When Mr. Ridge knew others would read his writing, he took great care in making it look presentable, like in his ledgers or on that slip of paper. But when he wrote as his mind ran, he usually did it in scribbles, knowing well he would be the only one able to untangle the mess he had written down.
And then it was indeed strange that the suicide note—that he himself had explicitly pointed out as being written "in haste"—would have such neat handwriting. In fact, it was a little too neat perhaps.
Bella shivered. What if Mr. Ridge had not written that note willingly? What if someone had forced him to write it? But she scoffed at herself. How could she let her mind wander? Why would someone want to murder Mr. Ridge? There was no reason and, in fact, the argument for his suicide rang more likely than the fact that Mr. Ridge could have been murdered.
She shifted uncomfortably on the soft grass as the heavy blanket of clouds grew thicker and darker. But what if Mr. Ridge had tried to send a message? Perhaps he thought the letter to be his last way of sending a message. It would be too farfetched for her to presume that Ridge would know that Bella Swan would read the letter in person and be able to deduce such information. There wasn't anything else that stood out to her. She pushed it aside, yet the thought lingered.
The young woman knew such information was dangerous to go around sharing. It was best if she left it for now until she found someone she could truly trust.
There was, of course, someone she could trust in, someone who had proven himself to be trustworthy. Major Collins. But a part of her feared what might happen to the major if she proved to be right. If Mr. Ridge had been murdered because of some unknown reason, she might drag the major down into the muck.
A thought crossed her mind. Perhaps Captain Forster was a part of this? She did not want to presume just because she despised the man. But deep in her mind, the possibility prevailed.
For now, however, she would keep such information to herself until she could be sure that she could share such critical information with Collins. If Bella proved to be right, he might well be able to clear Ridge from the stigma of having committed suicide.
And she feared, most of all, what might happen to her and her family if the murderer knew she was on his trail. Bella shivered as the first drop fell from the sky, splashing against the dry earth. April flicked her ears and fussed where she was tied, not allowed to graze. The mare, unfortunately, was still a bit round around her midriff.
A few days were enough for Bella's mind to settle. A few days spent in Alice and Japer's company got her spirits back up. They were always making her laugh and Jasper had an unusual talent for engaging her in the liveliest discussions. They would usually gather at her place. Bella suspected Alice did it because she wanted to run away from her brother.
She would see him sometimes in town and he would be civil enough to exchange a few words. The subject was usually about his many complaints of life in Angloa. He would reminisce over England and over the civilized society it had offered him. Mr. Masen never noticed how ignorant he could sound, but Bella suspected the life he had led on the northern island had blinded him to his own home.
She never talked much with Alice over the subject. But Bella heard whispers as much as anyone. It didn't take long enough for her to truly understand what a prideful man Carlisle Masen really was. The fact that his son had changed so radically had the father out of his wits. They tried to keep it within the family, but the disappointment could not be masked. Carlisle's expectations of what his son could have become were so failed that she felt a twinge of pity for him. Bella would never know what it was to be a father, but if she ever had a son behaving as Edward did, she would be upset about it too. And the worst part, she realized, was that Edward did not seem to realize this. Or he simply didn't care.
That was why Edward was usually the talk of at least one young lady. By being the heir to the Masen name he was quite sought after, despite his rather lacking abilities. He might have an attractive face and build. But the way he spoke, behaved and even dressed managed to make him one of the most unattractive men in town, according to Bella. She thought it pitiful because she truly wanted to think more of him. Perhaps, at his very core, there was something defining about him, just waiting to emerge. Bella, of course, never let Alice in on this. Alas, she feared Alice's feelings and regards to her brother were not too far removed from her own.
And then there was, of course, another who was quite the opposite.
While her infatuation with Jacob was merely on the surface and something stemming from her childhood, her interest in Major Collins greatly exceeded that. He was also a favorite of many in town. His classical good looks, manners and the way he bore himself would usually find her after him or thinking about him. But whenever she shared her feelings with Alice, her friend would brush it off.
"It is only an infatuation, dear," Alice would answer.
"My interest in Jacob was a small girlish infatuation. This is different," she would snicker back. Alice would laugh and raise an eyebrow.
"Then, tell me, what about him makes him so agreeable?"
"Well, his manners and behavior, and the way he looks."
"But that is only on the surface. What is it that has you spellbound to him, what about him makes you weak in the knees, willing to throw yourself into his arms and be kissed senseless?"
"Mrs. Hale!" Bella had blushed at that moment. To hear her friend talk of such things—things she had never known and that were quite alien to her—it always brought a crimson blush to her cheeks.
"If there is none of that, no physical attraction, only a mutual and friendly understanding, you two could never be more than good friends at best."
"But isn't marriage a friendship of sorts?" Bella had asked in confusion.
"Part of it is. But another part, a part none will speak of in polite society, is much more. Passion, want and love Isabella, and not a friendly love; a deep love that grabs hold of your heart and that never lets go—a tender love that is nurtured only by being in the presence of the other yet prevails when you are apart. It is a love you have not yet known, for if you did, you would understand what I am talking of." Alice sipped her tea in a moment of reflection.
"Is that what you feel for Mr. Hale?"
Alice had smiled and nodded. "Yes, and what he feels for me. And if there is none of that between you and Major Collins, well, then there is only a deep friendship at most."
"But love is something that, as you said, is nurtured. Surely it could grow to turn into this deeper feeling that you speak of."
"Perhaps, I agree that an instantaneous and lustful relationship usually bodes badly for both parties. Yet, even at the early stages of the relationship, it is present; at least from my experience. Listen, Isabella, you will know when you feel it, trust me."
Bella had sighed and stayed awake for many nights after that conversation. What if she never discovered such love? What if she was bound to only have a platonic relationship with her husband, whoever he might be? The thought stressed her, but it managed to take her mind off Mr. Ridge's theoretical murder.
Perhaps that was why she welcomed the day of Mayor Wilson's gathering to inaugurate his new estate. It was promised to be an eventful evening of dining and, mayhap, some dancing. And Major Collins would be there, of course. Charles Swan was overjoyed at its arrival. He knew, as well as many other parents in Hayes, that Collins was as good a catch as any. He was a decorated officer, quickly rising in the ranks, young, handsome and stemming from a prestigious family from Zafra—the southernmost city in Angloa. He was the son of an esteemed gentleman, after all. Yet, unfortunately, the only living person left bearing his name. His father had passed away a few years back while his mother had succumbed while giving birth to him. He had no aunts or uncles, nor siblings. James Collins had received his inheritance when returning from battling in France. He was not just a decorated officer, he had grown quite wealthy as well—wealthy enough to settle down and build a family.
For the first time, Bella was actually eager to be attending a ball. While others were curious to see how the mayor had decorated his new house, she only wanted to see Collins. She was surprised to find out that theirs was not the only family invited. The Stanleys, Masens, Hales and a handful others had been asked to come as well—those who made out the inner circle of the mayor's acquaintance.
She could not have wished for a more perfect moment. And, indeed, the evening arrived. Before long the Swans were taken by horse and carriage to the country house south of Hayes, going toward Coldwick. It was not too far removed, only about thirty minutes riding, forty-five going by carriage. Yet, the house was still so out of the way that she could not see it on the horizon from the highest window in their own house.
"I heard from Lady Genene that he has done wonders with the house," Renée commented as the carriage rolled on, the curtains drawn to keep out the dust from the road.
"I suppose anyone might think the old Roderick estate looks better now with its improvements. It was practically a relic, my dear."
"He must have had it restored during the spring," Bella added. "But why would he wish for both a townhouse and a country estate?"
"He is the mayor, dear, he can afford whatever he wants. Not even seven thousand a year can get you some of the estates they are selling out here, as it is Lord Newton who sells them—he robs them all blind if you ask me," Charles muttered under his breath. When both daughter and mother rose an eyebrow at such a remark, he cleared his voice. "Forget I said that."
The carriage took them between the rolling green hills as the last rays of day bid farewell until morning. The silver light of the moon soon emerged as a bright beacon in the night sky, the stars twinkling faintly, trying to outshine the moon. But, they failed miserably that night.
They eventually reached the renovated country house—or rather an estate. It was a picturesque estate made up of several buildings with an architecture that felt strange to witness so far up north. Near Coldwick, one might see more such similar estates. The architecture was decidedly of Spanish and Portuguese influence.
During the war of the Spanish succession, many noblemen who had been disgraced at court had fled their country—especially from the south of the Iberian Peninsula—bringing their customs and traditions with them. Most settled near Coldwick or the isle of Cantabria and acquired lands from the crown and built their houses. One such man had settled there seventy-five years prior. But although he had built a fine house, he soon realized he could return home and, so, he left the once grand house twenty years after having it built. He returned to his lands and took most of value with him. A poor Angloan nobleman had settled in the house a few years later but found keeping such a big estate running was hard without the sufficient funds and, a few years later—some forty years ago—he too left the estate. The last person to settle there had been an old widow, Lady Roderick, who lived in the run-down estate for thirty years until passing away, with no heirs to inherit the building and lands adhered to it. It was taken by the crown and then passed over to the county, until recently, when Mayor Wilson bought it at a rather low sum.
The Swans did not know what to expect; an estate that had been renovated for the better part of four months might still very much be run-down.
However, they were pleasantly surprised.
The cluster of buildings—where one stood out in particular—were whitewashed with light reddish sand-colored tiles making up the roof. There were no gates nor any lane to lead up to the structure, only naked grassland. But the elegant gates that led into the first patio—with their swirling iron and with the torches illuminating the entrance, twisting vines and wisteria flowers accentuating the perfume of the night—took her breath away.
The base of the building was a large patio, enclosed by the very gate by which they were standing. A servant came and took their carriage and led their driver to the stables while another led them inside. Around the main courtyard, Bella spotted more buildings, abandoned, probably not yet cleaned or renovated.
Elegant music flooded out together with light as they walked past the blanket of flowery perfume. A slight shiver of strange comfort escaped her. The serene beauty of such a night did not go by unnoticed. She noted that the mayor had a good eye, the flora and fauna were barely trimmed, allowed to roam almost free, yet still subdued enough that they did not feel overwhelming.
A large mahogany door led to the main entrance, turned into a foyer. The inside was more modern, and one could never guess that they were in a southern-style estate from the way the inside looked.
A wistful sigh evaded her. She was so infinitely used to these settings by now. The glitter and glamour, the laughter and rich alcohol in elegant crystal glasses. The music and practiced dances. Of course, a small part of her did not mind it that much. But it was what went on beyond the façade that had her turn away from that world. The marriage transactions; displaying daughters to gentlemen like cattle. She wondered how many of the young girls in there would be able to experience that intense feeling Alice spoke of. And would Bella? It had never bothered her, so why did it now?
They stepped in and were met by an elegant open-air patio with a small orchestra at one end and many already gracing the floor. Chatter was alive. But, unlike so many other gatherings and balls Bella had been to, this was different. There was an air of youth here that she could not quite put her finger on. A vivaciousness that did not belong, that broke through the old and boring. It could be credited to that most of the attendees were her age. Scarcely any of the older gentlemen and ladies had come.
"So few chaperones," Charles snickered under his breath.
"Come, come, Charlie, one guardian per young lady is enough, don't you think?" Renée tsked. Bella agreed with her mother. There was no need to overtly protect the young women there, for they knew exactly why they attended these gatherings. The chaperones were mostly to reinforce their modesty or surprising lack thereof.
"And where is the man of the hour? I wish to congratulate him on such a splendid estate!" Charles exclaimed as he winked at a few familiar faces.
Mayor Wilson was off to the side, laughing with some other prominent members of their community around a bowl of punch.
"And I wonder where Major Collin might be," she mumbled. "I heard he was invited as well."
"Boring the poor chaps who decided to go with him to the stables. There was talk of looking at horses and perhaps Mr. Wilson's old armory collection," a drawl sounded behind them. The hairs on Bella's neck stood up as she recognized that voice, the boring drawl, and bothered air.
The three turned around to be met by none other than Edward Masen.
"Mr. Masen, we did not know you would come," Renée said, the first to step forth and speak to him as politely as she could.
Edward extracted a handkerchief from the cuff of his emerald silk coat, blotting his powdered cheek with it. "I thought I would attend with my sisters in lieu of my parents when I heard that the mayor was throwing this lavish gathering. I couldn't possibly pass the chance. The renovation of this building has been quite the talk of the town lately," he rose an eyebrow. Charles smirked at the ineptitude of the young man, feeling he had dodged a bullet in not having made him his son in law.
"Indeed," Bella answered distantly. "And where might your sister be?" she asked, hoping to find Alice as soon as possible. She did not wish to spend the rest of the evening with her parents, and even less by Edward's side.
"Well," Edward answered with his normal nasal tone; as if the mere question tired him. "Rosalie is in the current company of Miss Stanley. Alice went on the tour of the stables with Major Collins."
"I did not know Mrs. Hale cared so for horses or weapons," Bella replied bluntly.
"My sister would surprise you in more ways than one, miss," he answered. The ghost of a smirk seemed to appear on his features. But Bella must have imagined it because the usual unbothered air was ever present. Maybe she wanted Edward Masen to smirk, maybe he would become more tolerable if he did so. "I could take you to her if you wish," he added, blotting his forehead once more.
Although his company could be rather irksome at certain moments, Edward could offer rather interesting viewpoints at other times.
But she could not tell that to Mr. Masen, lest his ego got yet another boost. "Unchaperoned, Mr. Masen?" she asked, unable to stop the smirk now apparent on her own features as something akin of a fluster invaded his.
"I would never dare to do such a thing to you, madam. If your mother might wish to come, I will see no harm in it," he quickly answered, the voice rising in pitch.
"I think we can go with him, Bella," her mother said. "It is good of you both to behave so properly," she finished. Bella could not sense if the remark was meant as truthful or as sarcastic. The undertone to her words completely went past Edward, never much aware of anything but the finer things in life.
"As my mother said, Mr. Masen, we are much obliged," Bella smiled. Her father was about to protest but had no mind to follow them. It was soon that he joined Wilson's group on the other side of the room.
Bella would glance at Edward from time to time as he walked by their side with a stiff posture and high collar. He did not offer them much conversation at first but slowly started to loosen up. Although his dull and somewhat arrogant persona didn't irritate her too much, she did not think badly of him as a person. After all, Edward Masen had never hurt anyone or gotten in anyone's way. He simply lived, like the rest of them—in his rather peculiar way. She wondered if his father had set his sights on finding his son a suitable wife. Mr. Masen was of marrying age, after all. In his mid-twenties, he should have been able to procure a suitable match. But it looked dark for the fop. Not even Jessica Stanley seemed desperate enough to ignite a relationship with Mr. Masen. Bella suspected that the dull and dandyish exterior of the man deterred even the vainest of women.
Bella's white and bright emerald muslin gown quite matched Edward's coat. But the clear distance she so decidedly set between them screamed that the young Miss Swan had no intention for the association to go further. Her stiff posture clearly indicated that theirs was a mere acquaintance and a malfunction in their wardrobe that had led to their equal dress.
Edward Masen led mother and daughter through corridor after corridor, until he stopped briefly. Bella had grown positively lightheaded from so many turns. Renée's lips were set in a firm line, yet she did not openly protest, still while knowing they must be lost by now.
"This cannot be the way to the stables, Mr. Masen. Are we lost?" Bella chided with a playful grin on her features. Edward blotted his face in thought, slowly removing part of the white powder he had so carefully applied. The rouge suffered as well.
"We are not lost, Miss Swan, we are merely taking the scenic route," he mumbled. They went back as Bella chuckled. Edward retorted to looking into a few rooms. They finally arrived at a larger door.
"I do not think you should open that door, Mr. Masen," Renée observed. But Edward did not listen. He opened it, promptly stepping into what looked like an office. It faced the patio and the light from the dancefloor streamed in with sharp beams, cutting through the desolate darkness.
"This is obviously not the stables. But I explicitly remember Major Collins going up this way," Edward muttered.
"I did," a pleasant voice sounded behind them. Bella and Renée turned around swiftly while Edward Masen jumped in place, almost falling over due to his overt clumsiness.
"Good Lord in heaven," he breathed as he regained his footing. "You do not sneak up on people like that, Major Collins," the startled man chastised, grabbing at his chest to calm his frantic heart.
Collins looked rather befuddled. "I merely answered your question," he frowned. The soldier stared at the fop in amusement.
To his benefit, Edward did regain his composure rather quickly. But the powder that had served to brighten up his visage, was not necessary since a shade of white had stretched over his features.
"I suspect you three did not intend to end up in the mayor's personal office," Collins continued. He was used to the estate since the mayor would ask him to come over often and discuss Hayes. It was something Wilson had not been able to do with Forster. Thus, he had sat in that office many times for the past few weeks.
Bella blushed. "Indeed not, Major Collins. Mr. Masen was kind enough to escort us to where you and your party had gone—the stables I believe." Edward nodded with an air of indifference at this. "Because I wanted to find my friend, Mrs. Hale," she continued.
"We had no intention whatsoever to impose," Renée added. "I believe I myself was taken aback by the exquisite rendering of this estate. I find the refurbishing quite well done. I must commend the mayor of his choice of craftsmen and laborers to have gotten this house ready in such a short time."
Collins smiled, but before he could speak, Edward interrupted him, looking annoyed. "I tell you, Major Collins, this house is positively built like a maze on purpose." Edward could not help but frown.
Collins chuckled. "Let me take you to Mrs. Hale, Miss Swan. And you, Mrs. Swan, I shall guide back to the main floor so that you may forward your compliment to Wilson himself." He looked at Edward for a moment with his lips pressed together as Bella accepted the major's arm with delight. "I think it best you follow us, Mr. Masen, lest you get lost again," he added in a friendly tone.
And, so, the four were off again, Edward Masen trying to brush the whole thing off as the fault of the construction of the house. But after a while, Bella heard him stifle a chuckle. He soon left them alone as Major Collins took them out from the inner patio and toward the east extension of the house where a group of people stood admiring a white stallion. Renée had already been shown where to continue to end up by her husband and Wilson's group.
"I think Mr. Masen must have been very embarrassed," Bella offered, interrupting their silent walk.
Collins' jaw was pressed together. "I pity that man," he said after a while, taking care in not being overheard by Edward who kept a rather large distance between them.
"Why?"
"Because of the way his father treats him."
The young woman found that she was pressing her lips together now as well. "You are rather perceptive, major," she added faintly.
"It cannot be ignored; the way Lord Masen looks at his son whenever he does or says something extensively vain. I understand his sentiment—Lord Masen is a proud man. To think that he sent away his son to one of the best universities in the world and have him return thusly must be a hard blow."
"You really respect Lord Masen, it seems."
"He is quite well-known in Safeira and quite admired by those who know him."
"Did you have an acquaintance there?"
Collins shook his head as Alice caught sight of them near. "I never had the pleasure, I was usually away at campaigns. I was away on the campaign during the southern French conflict of Bordeaux of 91'," he answered.
"I did not know you were in the war," Bella answered. Angloa had been one of the first countries to respond strongly against the French as the revolution broke out. But they had soon pulled back as the other stronger European monarchies decidedly intervened. Angloa could not afford losing lives in a war.
"Only for a few months. I was sent back." He ended that part of the conversation as swiftly as he had started it. "I never had the time to attend soirées and gatherings when I returned and, before I knew it, I was posted here. Luck would have it, however, that I would get to be better acquainted with Lord Masen."
"His whole family is admirable. I wonder what might have happened to Mr. Masen for him to have turned out that way," Bella sighed.
"Extensive comfort, Miss Swan, and pampering of the worst sort. But, we are not to interfere in such matters," he added.
"I do believe you are right."
They were met by Alice who was head over heels in love with the white stallion, a purebred warmblood that had been gifted to the mayor from one of his richer friends from Wessport.
"I must say, Miss Swan, that I am quite glad about your presence here tonight," Collins whispered for her ears only. Bella smiled, embarrassed at the daring remark.
"I am honored that you would feel so," she answered in equally hushed tones.
"Is honored all you are?" he dared.
"Major Collins, sometimes being too forward might not be a good thing," she answered.
"Forgive me, that was not my intent, madam," he smirked. "I only wanted to remark on your presence here tonight, and how it pleases me—only as a very friendly acquaintance, of course." He spoke the dreaded word "acquaintance" and Bella bit her teeth hard together. She loathed that word. But she suspected that was not what Collins generally implied.
"Well, gentlemen, ladies, shall we return back to the feast? I am quite sure Lancel will be here for you to visit further if you forward your wishes to Wilson," he said, blinking at Bella as he did so.
"I believe some dancing is in order," Alice said in jovial tones.
They returned, and the night progressed. The intense light from the moon subsided as they progressed into the wee hours of the morning.
But, then, the pace of the evening came to an abrupt halt as something was not quite right. Some guests had started returning home, the rest of them left quite intoxicated. Even Major Collins had had a few drinks more than usual. Bella and Alice had refrained from the strong wine, a strange headache besieging Alice. Bella had stayed at her side when the young woman was suddenly feeling faint.
"There is a room beyond those doors," Wilson said, pointing to the gallery watching over the patio, close to his office. "She can rest there. I will show you the way," he offered. Jasper Hale followed them, supporting his wife as nausea overtook.
Alice lay down on the bed and as the moment passed, she regained the color on her face and her composure. "I do not know what overcame me, but it seems to have passed."
"We should get a physician to look at you first thing in the morning," Jasper said worriedly as he kneeled by her side, holding her hand. Bella backed away from the tender moment between the two lovers. It was there, that passion, that love Alice spoke of. She saw it as clear as day in their eyes and she grew jealous, never having known such a sentiment.
They stayed in the room for a while, losing track of time. When Bella looked out the balcony, she realized it was later than guessed. Almost all of the guests had left now. Only a few soldiers, Collins, her parents and the Stanley's were still left. Edward had returned home, together with his sister and her husband.
Bella went to sit in one corner while Alice was feeling more herself. Bella was ready to go back to the carriage and return home. The magic of the night had long since died down for her. Dawn was only a few hours away and she longed for her own bed. She thought back to the evening, to the remarks made by Major Collins. A smirk spread on her lips as her mind wandered.
The crash brought her attention back to reality.
Shouts followed as some of Collins' soldiers rushed past the corridor, one shouting orders at the others. Bella rushed out on the inner patio balcony, as confused as Alice and Jasper.
She caught sight of her parents in the midst of the tumult. The mayor looked white as a ghost while Major Collins was talking to one of his soldiers. A blazing shot pierced the peaceful night like a scream and they all stopped. Another blast of a pistol rang in heavy vibrations. Bella froze where she stood.
"Miss Swan, Alice, I think it best if you remain here," Jasper hurried as he rushed for the door, sprinting past the corridor to the large inner patio, to see if he could figure out what was happening.
"What on earth do you think has happened?" Alice whispered to her friend.
"I don't know," Bella whispered back, her body tense as she met Alice's wide eyes. She did not know why they were whispering, but talking in their normal voice seemed oddly out of place; as if someone might discover them.
More sounds of struggle sounded, and both women grew increasingly alarmed. Jasper was with Bella's parents, Wilson, and the Stanelys down on the patio floor, trying to make sense of it all. Major Collins had run to his soldiers.
A silence settled, so eerie and uncomfortable that Bella was about ready to scream to alleviate that pressing vacuum of sound. It was a calm she found alarmingly frightening as if at any moment something would explode; as if something would come crashing down on them like a storm. She and Alice went to the wide balcony, to make sure that they had not been left alone.
Seconds ticked by, excruciatingly tense.
More shouts sounded, ripping through the silence. Then chaos seemingly erupted behind their closed door, in the corridor beyond. Alice pressed against the railing while, by some strange reason, Bella's curiosity got the better of her. Some unknown force made her walk across the room and turn the handle. She had to know what was going on.
"Isabella?" Alice hissed in confusion.
The young woman hesitated on the handle. Some grunts and punches filtered through the door. She pressed her ear against it as sound once more died down. The handle turned smoothly by her hand and she forced the door to open for her.
Bella stepped out into the corridor, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Two soldiers lay in a heap off to the side. They were lucid but did not look too keen on getting off the floor. Some hard punches had been directed to various parts of their faces. She noticed thin slashes here and there, made by either a knife or a rapier.
"What is happening?" she asked them in a hissed whisper.
"The devil," one said faintly while feebly making the sign of the cross. His head was, no doubt, throbbing incessantly.
More grunts and punches came from the other end of the corridor that quickly disappeared. "Isabella, get in here!" Alice whispered in a panic. She must have thought her mad. And perhaps Isabella Swan was a little bit crazy at that point.
"Alice," she said, turning around and ignoring all decorum. "We need to get to Jasper and my parents. We should not stay here!" she said with alarm.
There was something—a haunting in the young woman's face, a fear that could not be described that convinced her. Alice nodded, lifted her skirts and darted for the steps leading down from the second floor to the patio. Bella was promptly following her. They were close to the scuffle but did not have to pass it directly.
Alice was down the stairs when, suddenly, to their right on the other balcony, a shadow jumped down, chased by soldiers.
Bella froze at the sight of it, the hairs on her arms standing upright.
A dark shadow, someone completely enveloped in black, stood on the other side of the patio opposite to her.
A/N: Thank you for reading and following this story! Don't forget to R&R!
Note: Inspiration for Wilson's estate is taken from southern Spanish homes. Google "andalusian hacienda" or "cortijo" to get a better picture of the place I described. I'll make sure to post some pictures on my Tumblr as well!
Cheers!
Isabelle