AUDEAMUS
Chapter 15
Bella sat stiff with a straight posture in front of Sara in her chamber. Both had been there in tense silence for the past half hour. Sara had seen most of the ordeal. She had been close to the gardens when she'd heard the irritated exclamations of young Miss Swan. The maid had gone running, thinking Bella was in some peril.
And in peril, she had been, but not the one Sara thought. The scene of that…shadow still made her shiver. But Sara had noted that never once did he truly seem like he would have hurt her mistress.
"I hope none of this will reach the ears of my parents. Or anyone else in this house, for that matter," the young woman whispered. The windows to her rooms were shut, a few wax candles were all that illuminated the space, casting eerie shadows. Yet, silver beams pushed through, clashing with the golden flickers of the candles.
"Miss Swan," Sara said, licking her lips in a nervous manner. "T-that was him, wasn't it?"
Bella clasped her hands in her knees and looked to the side. "Do not worry yourself with it."
"But it was him! It was Cullen!"
"Schh!" Bella's eyes had widened. "I know who it was, Sara. I was there."
"What did he want, miss?"
Bella shook her head. "Please, Sara. Please leave it and never speak of it again. We will not be seeing that basta—er, man… we will not see that man again."
There were still so many questions passing through Sara's mind. Suddenly she blushed. She was at ease with the young woman before her, and even though she had always been shy, voicing her thoughts had always been natural.
"Has it not passed through your mind yet?" Sara asked. Bella noted a blush had spread across her features.
"What has?"
The maid fiddled with her skirts as she got up to leave. "That it should be you two: Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen, just like in the story from old. Forgive me for being so forward, miss, but I think it…romantic." With that strangled exclamation the maid turned on her heel and rushed out. The words, however, evoked an irritated flush within Bella as well.
"Rubbish," she murmured to herself with a wrinkled nose. There had been nothing romantic at all about their encounter. She got up, frustrated. What was romantic about a man threatening to throw her into the pond? Well, maybe not throw. The threat of falling into it, however, had been there.
She gritted her teeth. And he had stolen from her. Taken Lucas Ridge's note. But she knew he wouldn't know what to do with it—if he could even read. There were few who knew Lucas Ridge as well as she did. To him, as it was to her, it remained Lucas' suicide note. Thus, it had no value in his possession.
Bella Swan smirked. He would be back. And even if he wasn't, she now knew where she might find him. He was that ill-dressed wanderer who had insulted her horse. He was nothing more than a glorified naturalist, she thought. He had been frequenting the lake and stream. Before summer was over, she might venture there and see if she could catch him during the day. Night may be his kingdom, but she could best him when the sun was out. Even more if it was in Raven's Grove.
And maybe, she thought, if she ventured into Raven's Grove, she might cross paths with Jacob. There were many questions left unanswered.
Jacob passed the slice of bread to the other man. Jonah took it and shifted uncomfortably. His leg still bothered him. The black eyes of the other man followed him in his every move.
Jonah could still not believe how lucky he had been in escaping. It had been a slip of luck. For just as a man in a hood had come alone into the garrison cell—in the dark of night, with a knife raised high above his head—Harry had fought against him and taken most of the blows.
Jonah pushed the dirty red locks away from his brown eyes and looked to the side, the memories still fresh. Harry and Sebastian were dead. He was not. The guilt was immense. Had Cullen not found him ailing in the forest, he might have been done for.
Jacob knew Jonah was a bandit, and he knew what he had suffered. But he still didn't like it that Cullen had taken an outlaw to their camp. Even less with the wounds his father had sustained. Billy was a bit more understanding.
"How often does he come here?" Jonah asked. He was surprised to learn that Cullen didn't camp with the rest of his men. The outlaw had also been surprised to learn that Cullen even had men. But he guessed it would be common; more and more people joined his cause the more tired with Forster they got.
"Three times," Jacob answered, biting into his food, staring at the campfire. "He brought food the last two times. And news of Hayes."
The outlaw hesitated, scratching the scruff on his chin. "Do you…know?"
It was a loaded question. The trees seemed to protest as the winds picked up speed, making the crowns dance. Despite having spent much time in Raven's Grove, he could still become spooked by the place.
"No," Jacob shook his head. "Not a clue." He cast a glance in the bandit's way. Jonah didn't get in their way and was helpful at camp. Jacob looked over at his father's sleeping form. He wondered if his old man would ever walk again. Weeks had passed since Billy's arrival there and he could still not stand up unassisted.
"What is your plan, after your leg has healed?" the young man asked.
Jonah stopped chewing and swallowed hard. He was reminded by his cousin Harry, and Sebastian; both his friends. They were gone now. Had they not been so desperate, they would have never found themselves in this situation. He could, however, not return to his wife and children. He was still officially an outlaw. Jonah didn't doubt that Forster had charged him with the murder of his friends.
"I will not rest until Forster burns in hell," he growled.
Jacob's lips settled into a thin line as his black eyes trailed over the other man. There it was. A common reason that bound them together; hatred for the captain that had destroyed their lives. Jacob bit into his food once more, listening to the rustling leaves.
"He will burn, my friend. Rest assured."
It was almost a promise. They both knew Forster had to be taken down, they both craved it. Jacob hoped Cullen would keep them in his circle because he wanted nothing more than to help in whatever way he could.
Jonah seemed satisfied with the answer for he nodded in agreement. His right hand grabbed into the dirt, the action calming him. He swore before the heavens that Forster would see his own justice for what he had done to his cousin Harry and his friend Sebastian if it was the last thing he did.
A week had passed since her encounter with Cullen. September had commenced, and Bella felt her spirits drop as it announced the death of summer; her favorite season.
Not much had happened ever since her note had been taken. Collins had continued to gather his evidence, buried in his work, trying to chastise Forster. It was hard with the captain, for he kept questioning him more and more. There arrived a time when Forster completely disregard Collins altogether. And what could he then do? He knew that he would have to take measures before then.
Bella Swan would still frequently visit Alice. Rosalie McCarty was holding a farewell ball for summer, the last of the season. Bella was, of course, cordially invited. She did still not understand the oldest sister's distaste for her. But it was evident, even to a blind man, that Rosalie didn't exactly adore Bella and she didn't know why. Had she caused the beauty any offense? She had asked Alice at one point, but the young woman didn't know either.
She found herself, as per usual, outside of the Masen townhouse, knocking on the door. And, as usual, it was Joseph who opened it for her. Whenever Joseph opened the door, it suggested Edward Masen would be there as well. He never left without his trusted servant. Bella stifled a grimace as she nodded in a silent smile. Joseph let her in, but he did not take her to the parlor.
"Mrs. Hale thought the gardens would be a nice pastime for you today. And there appears to be some sort of sparring going on."
She arched an eyebrow. Her heels clicked against the wood of the floor and became muted once she walked over the Persian rug. Joseph rarely spoke directly to her.
Bella liked the parlor. When it was occupied—which was often—Alice would direct her to the drawing room instead. However, it seemed she had something else planned today.
The leaves were dark green on most trees and the hint of a chill could be felt during the morning or evening. Fall beckoned and Bella disagreed with it. Maybe Alice wanted to enjoy noon in her gardens before it became colder. The young woman wondered if she was to live at her parent's townhouse forever. Apparently, Alice and Jasper were looking to purchase their own home in the newer section of Hayes. The question of children had briefly passed during conversation. Alice and Jasper did not seem to be in a rush, at least not until things settled down. For them to start looking for a new home, however, thrilled Bella, for it would mean fewer run-ins with Rosalie McCarty and Edward Masen.
She walked the long hallway lined in portraits and vases together with a silent Joseph. He brought her through the parlor and opened the tall doors that led into the Masen gardens. The greenery was as exquisite as always, although the area was much smaller compared to her own back home. They had no pond, nor a weeping willow. And nothing could compare to her own gardens in that regard.
But there was a small stone platform in the middle that, apparently, would be cleared from furniture whenever Carlisle or Emmett decided to spar outside.
And this was such a day.
Bella stepped onto the grass where Alice met her. "Bella, I am thrilled you came in time!" Alice exclaimed. Her husband and brother were close to her. When Bella saw Edward, she had to look away. The memory of him in his soaked shirt was still too fresh. It was still too much to think he had such a physique hiding beneath his coats and cravats. She remembered his disheveled hair, how it brought a mischievous look about him—it was nothing like the mightier-than-thou air he would usually give off.
Edward Masen and Jasper Hale bowed to acknowledge her presence. It seemed Carlisle and Esmeralda Masen were sitting a bit further down, closer to the stone platform.
Bella squinted her eyes in the noon sun when her eyebrows suddenly reached to her hairline. What on earth was Major Collins doing here? And stripped off his military coat?
A sword was clasped in his left hand as the other adjusted the vest snuggly about his torso.
"What have I missed?" There could be no doubt that the young Miss Swan's eyes had just lightened up with a spark. Collins was about to duel either Carlisle, Emmett or Jasper.
Alice chuckled at Bella's expression. "Well, apparently Emmett has been looking for a new sparring partner since my father had an unfortunate accident on the stairs the other day and twisted his ankle." Before Bella could interrupt to ask about his health, Alice was already ahead of her. "He is quite well, Bella. But Dr. Blake has asked he not put any weight on it for the coming fortnight."
She looked to the side and saw, indeed, that Lord Masen's left foot rested on a small stool, elevated. He was in a pleasant conversation with his charming wife, his hand resting on the elaborate silver pommel of a cane.
"I do not consider myself to be an overly graceful sort of fellow," came a thin voice to her left. Bella bit her teeth together. "I have always known there was a small amount of clumsiness to me. Now I know it stems from my dear father," he drawled.
Alice couldn't help but laugh. "It is the first time I have ever seen him trip, Edward dear. You cannot blame your own folly on him," she brushed off in a playful reprimand. Jasper chuckled next to his wife.
"As you could have guessed, my brother in law needed to keep practicing and since my father cannot fence, Emmett has been on the hunt for a new sparring partner for three days."
Bella looked at Collins with renewed interest. "And he settled on the major?"
"My words exactly," said Edward with a bothered air. "Why drag in the military? We have a fencing master who comes once a week from Coldwick. I think it is more than enough—"
"Collins studied with La Boëssière," Jasper interrupted. "You can imagine Mr. McCarty's reaction at finding out such news."
Bella couldn't help but arch her eyebrow. It was impressive, that Collins should've had the privilege to study under such a great master.
"He must be exceedingly apt with the blade then," she whispered.
"If he is, he doesn't brag about it," Jasper agreed.
Suddenly, the affair was much more interesting. The only one seemingly uninterested was Edward Masen. They all sat down as Emmett and Collins took their stances. They did not wear fencing masks, to better be able to see their opponent's moves. It was indeed a serious affair. The only protective gear were the vests for their torsos.
Emmett and Collins waited with swords drawn, the tips dulled as not to provoke any unnecessary injuries. Collins looked at the spectators rather uncomfortably. When McCarty had sought him out after having heard he was apt in the sport, he had not expected the whole family would be watching. Even less so the young Miss Swan.
They waited for their signal and started fencing. It was cordial at first, each testing the boundaries of the other. The clash of swords hung in the air as they tested different tactics. Emmett moved around much more while Collins stood rooted where he was. Bella knew little of fencing, but even she was tense when watching both men. Yet, her untrained eye figured Emmett had the upper hand from the movements and how he pressed Collins back. Emmett fenced rapidly, while Collins blocked his every move. It seemed they were equally matched.
A pair of eyes that were taking in every miniscule detail, belonged to the one they'd never think held any sort of interest in the sport. Edward Masen masked his attention to the crossing of blades. Bella glanced over at him at one moment. He looked bored. A yawn reinforced such a sentiment. Utterly bored.
An exclamation of triumph sounded as Emmett disarmed Collins. His sword flung to the side, landing at Bella's feet.
Collins bowed graciously. "It seems I have been bested, sir."
Emmett looked at the major for a long while until his brow furrowed. "You didn't commit at all, major. This was child's play for you."
Bella and Alice gasped. They thought Emmett had been marvelous. How could it have been child's play for Collins? And why hadn't Collins fought fiercer? Was he trying to hide something?
"It was a pleasant fight, Mr. McCarty," Collins offered. Bella picked up the blade, feeling its balanced weight in her hand. She could never endeavor to master it as skillfully as Emmett had—or even Collins. She didn't notice Edward's eyes trailing over her.
"A rematch, major. This time I wish for you to fight. I do not wish for politeness, nor for you to hold back. Fence me for real. I will not take offense," Emmett urged. He turned to Bella and nodded—the cue for her to give Collins his sword.
She hesitated before stepping up to the platform. She blushed as he took the sword from her outstretched hand and then bent over it and kissed the back of it.
Alice fanned herself at the gesture. Carlisle furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his son, who seemed completely unaffected by the fact that Collins might be presenting some sort of competition for the young lady; not that Edward Masen had ever had a chance against the dashing major from the start. However, Carlisle would've enjoyed having young Isabella Swan as his daughter in law.
Bella nodded to the two men. "Good luck, gentlemen," she smiled, stepping down with the help of Jasper as he extended a hand to her. Bella was sat next to Alice and once more the men on the platform took their stances.
The tension rose as a chilling breeze swept past them, dragging some dried leaves off the trees. The clouds obscured the sun and the signal was finally given.
This time, the fighting was more calculated, Emmett was being tired out by Collins who still fought a defense. In the last two minutes, however, Collins turned the tables around. When Emmett was tired enough, he found his weaker spots and won the fight.
Bella gasped. Collins had indeed been holding back. She shivered at the confrontation, at the show of such fine swordsmanship. While Emmett was a fine swordsman, Collins was practically a master.
They all held their breath while waiting for Emmett to react. He was a proud man, as much was known to them all. They wondered if he would show irritation. But Emmett chuckled and shook hands with the officer.
"Bravo, Major Collins!" the gentleman exclaimed. Carlisle's eyes were wide, and a grin spread on his features. It was evident that, as soon as his ankle had healed, he too wished to cross blades with the major.
"We must make this a weekly exercise," Emmett insisted. "I admire your technique."
Collins almost blushed, such was his humility. "You flatter me, Mr. McCarty."
"Your skill with the blade is awe-inspiring," Emmett continued.
Bella, Alice and the rest had clapped vigorously at the show. They soon all sat and enjoyed some refreshments. Collins had stepped over to sit next to Miss Swan. He took in her beauty, the surroundings, the laughing faces of the Masen family. He appreciated being there, if only to get away from Forster and the problems he presented. Collins had decided, enough was enough. He would dismiss the captain from the Royal Guard at the opportune moment, he couldn't wait for Cullen to come forth with more evidence. Major Collins had more than enough evidence to show for Forster's misconduct and had already drafted the documents. If he could add the death of Lucas Ridge and also have the captain sentenced, it might draw out whoever was protecting Forster.
While Collins sat in pleasant conversation with Miss Swan, Mrs. Hale, and Mr. Hale, Emmett was silently contemplating him.
"You cannot really be irritated that you lost to him," Rosalie said as she planted a kiss on his cheek and handed him a towel to freshen up and wipe off the sweat.
Emmett shook his head. "He fights formidably well, Rosalie," he murmured in a half-whisper, afraid Collins would hear. "So certain in his footing. However, even during the second time, he was holding back."
Rosalie arched an eyebrow and brushed a golden lock away from her face. "What are you insinuating."
"The height and build match, don't you think?" her husband continued. "He has access to the garrison—"
"You cannot be serious," his wife hissed in his ear. Emmett turned to face her.
"It could be possible," he said.
"This is why you wished to spar with him? Because you think he is Cullen?" The last sentence she said in an almost inaudible whisper, looking about her. Rosalie was afraid someone would hear her. But no attention was placed on them.
"Rosalie, he has access to the garrison, he knows the standard layout for one. He is a soldier, he knows the schedule for the lancers and sentinels. He could have come here to save Mr. Black before arriving himself as Collins. He is a major; isn't it strange that he was sent to a town like Hayes unless he requested it?"
"But at the Wilson estate he was there, at the same time as Cullen. Witnesses place him there, as Collins, not as that…ghost," his wife argued.
Emmett shook his head. "Maybe he has an accomplice—maybe Jacob Black was indeed involved in this. It would explain it, he could have given Black enough information to get into the house and search whatever he was searching for. Collins could have led the soldiers away to let this Black escape—"
"This is all very farfetched, my love," Rosalie uttered while frowning. "And if he were Cullen, what would that mean?"
Emmett hadn't gotten that far yet, as much was evident even to her. "We do not yet know, do we? Cullen saved Billy Black twice from the garrison. I overheard Jasper and Alice speak. They believe there is something afoot here. I think Cullen—Collins, is trying to unearth whatever it is. And I think it is tied to Forster," he continued.
Rosalie's lips thinned. "Emmett, whatever is going on, you have no obligation to get involved—"
Her husband looked irritated. "If we can help, should we not? I think he has put up this guise, this façade, instigated the people to take down Forster and whoever is helping him. You must have noticed it, Rosalie, how Hayes is becoming worse than before. There are more bandits than ever, and I do not think Collins can keep Forster in check much longer—not as a major, in any case."
His wife took his hand. She didn't know what else to say. Suddenly, a chill crept over her features, a premonition of fear, of terror. There was something afoot, and they were not the only citizens of Hayes to notice it. The mysteries of night haunted them. The death of Ridge spooked them. But most chose to ignore it. Why couldn't she and her husband as well?
"Leave it, Emmett. Promise me." He had never heard such fear in her voice before. But the look in her eyes; the hint of desperation that he wouldn't do anything foolish was enough to coil him.
He took her hands in his and kissed them. "Alright, my love. For you, I will. But I still think Collins has ties to Cullen."
"Mr. Masen, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were courting me."
Bella didn't look at him when she spoke, for fear of the reputable arrogance in his eyes. His hands rested on the pommel of his walking cane as the carriage took them, once more, down to the promenade by the foot of the mountains where the same river awaited them.
The following day, he had called on her just after twelve, to the surprise of her parents. But they had not argued as he asked for the young Miss Swan to follow him on another promenade. In fact, Bella had grown to appreciate their walks, for she got to see another more humane side to Edward Masen.
"Madam," he said as he dotted his upper lip with his handkerchief. "Wooing women is for simpletons."
Bella flared her nostrils and widened her eyes as a rosy blush spread on her cheeks. It took all her efforts not to burst out in laughter.
"Indeed?" she managed, in a strangled voice, still fighting fervently not to laugh.
He turned to her with nose in the air. "Why yes, a tiresome action that often bears little fruit. You, the female sex, will already have made up your mind long before anyone such as I start showering you with fine words and gifts."
"But, Mr. Masen, would you be able to court a woman? Hypothetically, of course."
"Dear Miss Swan, I could not be able to call myself a true gentleman if I did not know that age-old art. But it is out of fashion. We men should not stand under balconies and serenade, or recite poetry in a fragrant garden under starlight."
Bella looked at her clasped hands, taken back to such a night—a night of starlight. But it had not been a courting she had experienced. It had been the roguish actions of a thief and a bandit. Not a lover.
They arrived at the promenade and he did not help her to descend the carriage as he stepped down first. Bella had not expected him to. There would not remain many more occasions to walk the path of the stream before it got too cold. The leaves had not yet turned, but the winds had picked up speed and the chill extended itself during the night. She no longer had to open her windows right before sleeping as the chill was too great.
Isabella Swan suspected Edward Masen had called on her once more to stifle some ire his father had with him. And she agreed to play that part. But she had made it clear during their ride that their little theatrics would go no further and that he should get no ideas. The fop had snorted at her remark and told her not to worry. Yet Bella had wanted to see how far she could press him. Thus, she had inquired if he was, in fact, courting her.
They walked on the worn path, passing others who partook in the sunny weather.
"You intrigue me, Mr. Masen, for now that you have mentioned at being such a master at the art of courting, I find I must see it for myself," she urged, stopping by the stream, by a tall oak tree.
The wind picked at his gelled hair and tousled his ridiculous cravat. The yellow of his coat screamed at her eyes and his ringed fingers gripped the cane harder. "I believe the young lady will be overwhelmed by my advanced skills in the art."
Bella arched an eyebrow as a faint smile painted her lips. "Even more the reason, Mr. Masen," she continued. "Or are you not up to the task?"
He had taken the bait, for he looked almost insulted. Edward Masen did not like to be questioned, and he liked to show people when they were wrong. Apparently, Bella Swan had to be wrong.
He guided her to the side, to sit on a boulder. "Now hear here, madam, how I shall make your heart soar, your eyes glitter at my words and your heart skip a beat or two!" he exclaimed with such lack of passion that she had to grit her teeth.
Bella already regretted what she had gotten herself into.
"Your eyes," he began as if reciting an old text that he knew by memory. "Your eyes." The man already seemed lost in his reciting. "Hmmm, seems this part eludes me." To her utter surprise, he went down on one knee before her and cleared his voice. "Oh, sweet Miss Swan, your teeth are like rubies and your lips shine like pearls…"
She brought up her fan to her face and could not stop her shoulders from shaking as she fought hard against the laughter. The other pedestrians stared at them in a funny way but did not tarry long after they heard his dreaded words, how he mixed up his verses and did not seem to notice—or care.
"The blush on your features, as red as the tomato, as…hmmm," he said again.
"Enough, Mr. Masen, enough," she choked. Tears had started forming. Bella was certain she was much redder than a tomato by this stage. "Lest I faint!"
He had read her completely wrong, for he thought himself successful. Edward Masen went to stand again with a satisfied smirk plastered on his features. Bella had to fan herself and control her breathing. It would not do either for her or for Mr. Masen if she burst out in loud laughter, lest the whole forest heard them.
"As I told you, Miss Swan, this is the effect my wooing has on women," he said in his nasal drawl, extending a hand for her to grab onto as she stood up.
"Oh, that I can definitely believe." She fanned herself further, her lips still trembling from the strain. Never had one fought so hard not to laugh or chuckle. "I must ask that you refrain from such actions again—" Her voice rose in pitch, followed by a loud snort as her mask almost broke. Bella had to turn around from him and bend over as she silently laughed into her hand.
"But you have been the most affected of them all, by far," he drawled. "I must have advanced further in my skills, to be able to draw tears of admiration with my words."
Another snort. It was almost as if he was saying such silly words on purpose. Bella was trapped between Masen's monologue of his mastery of courting and the pedestrians. She could not turn to face him until she had calmed further.
Yet, in the end, she managed to get a grip on herself. When she faced him, an eyebrow shot to his hairline. "Why Miss Swan, you look positively horrible. I have never seen such a strong blush before."
She nodded and urged him to return back to the carriage. "Your words…they were too much. I beg you never to speak them again." She had to tell Alice of this. Despite the fact that her brother was a pompous peacock that would dishearten his family with his foolish actions, Bella was certain that this little anecdote would bring tears of laughter to Alice's eyes as well.
Joseph brought them into town. They passed the statue of General Cullen and Bella could not help as her eyes were drawn to the grotesque appearance. She stifled a shiver.
"My, Miss Swan, you seem to have grown pale. I hope that a fainting spell will not claim you," Edward said, shielding a yawn with his hand. He was obviously not interested in her health, from what it looked like. But she could read that his eyes were more open, he leaned slightly forward, as if more attentive to her.
"Not at all, Mr. Masen." She held him with her gaze. Sometimes, it felt like Edward Masen hid behind a mask, just like Cullen.
Both turned around as they heard the joyful exclamations of Sgt. Thompson.
"Mr. Masen, Miss Swan!" he said as he neared them. "Beautiful weather we are having, eh?" he blinked. "Weather fit for a promenade, for some romancing." Bella was brought back to Masen's horrible attempt at romancing and promptly grew red once more. Thompson read her expression wrongly and gave Edward another wink.
"Tis good to see you, sergeant," Bella answered. She hadn't seen him in a while.
"You must join me more often in the tavern, Miss Swan," Thompson urged.
"Indeed, I must," she echoed.
"Sergeant!" a loud shout reverberated through the square. It was enough to send Bella jumping in her seat. Sgt. Thompson looked as if he had seen a ghost. The shout belonged to none other than Captain Forster and he was moving their way.
Both Bella and Thompson seemed dismayed as the frightening soldier closed in on them. Edward looked irritated by the bright sun and squinted in Forster's direction.
"You are not to lollygag with your friends, lest you want to spend the night in a cell!" the captain uttered.
Sgt. Thompson saluted. "Of course, sir!" But, alas, Thompson had not read between the lines and did not proceed to rush back to the garrison—not that Bella thought this man could do more than jog at a leisurely pace without getting winded.
Forster growled and directed his attention to the couple in the carriage as if to reprimand them. He held his tongue, however, when he noted they were people of stature.
"My good captain," Edward Masen began as he regarded the officer with a semblance of interest. "I do not believe we have met." He turned to Bella as if waiting for her to make the introductions. She stared at Masen like he was a madman, then felt the eyes of the mad captain search her form with a tug in his lips.
"O-of course," she swallowed hard. "Mr. Masen, Captain Roger Forster. Captain Forster, Mr. Edward Masen," she murmured in the shortest presentation ever possible.
"Charmed," Edward drawled with a bow of his head. "I have heard much about you."
Forster looked him up and down, genuinely intrigued by the peacock. It looked as if he were assessing him by the squint of his eyes and the wrinkling of his nose. "As have I of you, Mr. Masen." He had heard all about the Masen peacock. While Lord Masen, the father, might present a problem to him—together with both his sons in law—Edward Masen seemed the least harmless man to him in the whole of Hayes. Forster smirked. Nay, probably in the whole of Cadherra.
Bella sat frozen before the man that had caused so much havoc these past few months—nay years. For, ever since turning up at Hayes, the town had suffered under his rule of the garrison and its soldiers. Sgt. Thompson didn't look too thrilled either. Both figured that if they didn't move, they wouldn't attract any attention to themselves.
"They tell me, Mr. Masen, that your brother in law has begun instructing you in the art of fencing," the captain began. Bella didn't know why, but the air grew loaded as something unspoken passed between the two gentlemen. It was an animosity. What surprised her more, however, was that she could perceive the same energy stemming from Edward.
"Indeed," he nodded, his nose reaching for the air. He looked to be contemplating the sky, lost in its immensity and the people there present stared at him in confusion. In the dullness of his eyes emerged suddenly a light. "But really, captain, tis a tiresome affair. I never much enjoyed it at Oxford, you see," Edward lamented as he shook his head. He turned forward to both the captain and the sergeant with wider eyes. "Did you know there were even some duels among the students?"
Forster smirked, his hands clasped behind his back. "Really?"
"Oh, yes. Dreadful business, gentlemen," the peacock chanted to the sergeant and the captain.
"Yet here you are, still learning the art."
Suddenly Edward Masen seemed uncomfortable; as if he did not wish to speak of the subject. A triumphant look stretched over Forster's features—how he loved playing this game of cat and mouse with the people of the town, especially when they could do nothing to counter him.
Masen's eyes shifted from Forster to Thompson and, eventually, to Bella. "To be practically frank," he started. "Thus having to admit it to all of you and hope you will not divulge this little gossip to the rest of Hayes…I do it to please my father," Edward said; as if bothered by it. His nose wrinkled and his air grew tiresome as he wafted with his hand.
Bella had started fanning herself to hide the smirk of satisfaction that grew on her features. Forster did not seem content with the answer. He leaned in further. "Why does your father wish for you to learn to defend yourself? Does he not trust in the Royal Guard to do so?"
"Why, you are a most reasonable fellow, captain. I shall have to take you with me next time he forces me into a session to reason with him. With this Cullen fellow roaming about, my father said one could never be too careful." A haunted look now spread across the powdered features as Edward Masen made the sign of the cross. "Heaven spare us from that man…thing!"
Sgt. Thompson nodded vigorously, agreeing wholeheartedly.
"Have you really had no luck in catching the fellow?" Edward asked. Had it been anyone else, Forster might have taken such a statement as an insult. Bella held her breath as she waited for his reaction.
"He…eludes us, but not for long. He will eventually slip up and fall. They all do." The captain gave no inclination as to how he had reacted to the previous statement.
Edward nodded haphazardly. "Such is the life of a soldier, to worry of these things. But I am confident you and the brilliant sergeant will handle these matters with utmost grace," Edward added in his thin voice. Bella could not believe what she was witnessing. Why on earth was Mr. Masen complimenting Captain Forster?
Forster looked at the popinjay for a moment; as if still assessing him. Edward arched an eyebrow back. It seemed like Masen had spoken of something unbeknownst to him for Forster seemed slightly insulted.
"It has been good to make your acquaintance, Mr. Masen," Forster eventually bowed with a stiff smile on his lips. Bella didn't know why her heartbeat was still so frantic. Mayhap it was due to being in the presence of such a horrible man.
"We must speak again, captain!" Edward urged. "And next time I shall endeavor to help you with your cravat," he said, pointing at the captain's throat.
"My cravat?" Forster frowned. "What is wrong with it?" he demanded.
"Why, my good captain, I have never seen such a floppy thing! I can hardly bring myself to look upon it. No, no, no, it will not do." The powdered face looked to be contemplating it as his nose rose ever higher into the air. "It will not do at all. I shall have my servant, Joseph, come over with a selection of my starched attire. For, where does society fall if our militia cannot even dress the part?"
Bella was flustered, keeping utterly still, hoping she would not be in the crossfire. Before anyone could speak, Masen turned to Thompson to continue his tiresome tirade. "The same goes for you, sergeant. I shall have to work harder with you," he argued. He looked the sergeant up and down. "Much harder," he lamented.
Forster suppressed a faint growl, but the previous tension had died away. It was as if he had finally realized the true fool that Masen really was. "That will not be necessary, Mr. Masen," the captain said through gritted teeth. "If you will excuse us, the sergeant and I must get going."
Both soldiers started moving for the garrison. Thompson's shoulders were sloped, and Forster looked stiff as he walked back.
"Such a pity," Edward tsked as he shook his head.
"Mr. Masen!" Bella exclaimed once the carriage started moving again. "You mustn't tease the captain so. Tis dangerous!"
He turned to her. In a brief second, she perceived something alive in those dull emerald orbs of his. It was there and gone like a flash. She wondered if she had not imagined it.
"The captain is just like any other man, I do not understand why you get so riled up about him," Edward argued with a wrinkled nose. "And it would be a crime not to comment on his state of undress."
Bella looked at her clasped hands and finally let the smile and chuckle break through. Maybe Mr. Masen didn't know that he had thoroughly played and insulted the captain, but she had very much enjoyed seeing it first-hand.
"Don't do it again," she urged.
"Why?"
"Because…he is dangerous."
"My, Miss Swan, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you are worried about me," he said with an arched eyebrow.
There was a look again in his eyes and Bella almost felt her mouth drop as her heart went aflutter from it. She had never expected it to be stirred by such a man as Masen. A soft blush touched her features, but this time it was not from his silly wooing or his constant arguing about fashion and etiquette. It was from the way he regarded her, so straight on, so shamelessly.
She pushed aside her embarrassment and blush and arched an eyebrow. She remained silent as the carriage brought her to her home. The rest of the way, Mr. Masen kept lamenting over the state of undress he had witnessed in the soldiers. He argued he would take it up with Major Collins. Bella nodded without paying much attention, still thinking about that look he had given her. Her eyes darted up to his face, but it was gone; like it had never even touched his features, to begin with.
Maybe she had imagined it.
A/N: As May goes on, I will have to focus more on exams and not be able to upload twice a week. I hope to upload at least weekly until June and then we should be able to go back to two chapters a week again ;) I am thrilled that you are enjoying this story and reviewing! Thank you for all the feedback and nice reviews :D
Cheers,
Isabelle