AUDEAMUS
Chapter 16
He got off his white steed as it was taken away by one of the servants. Collins used to frequent Mayor Wilson's estate rather often since before the incident. The mayor had kept away from the refurbished house like the plague, afraid to return. But after a few months, he felt up to par and once more resided within its walls.
Collins took in its usual splendor, never getting over how elegant and richly decorated the estate truly was. It was like being transported across the sea, to another country. It had been refurbished and restored even more since his last visit. Many of the adjoining houses did not look as run-down as once before. He walked through the vast twisting iron gates into the entry patio with tanned tiles that had been freshly swept. Collins stopped to enjoy the perfume of the late summer flowers and regard the twisting vines of the lavender wisteria—the flowers not blooming again until next year—and ivy as they twirled about the gates and pressed against the façade.
Wilson greeted him in the inner patio and led him to the sitting room, which he eloquently called the sala.
"Tea, spirits or wine, my good major?" Wilson asked as the major sat down.
"A glass of port will do me no harm, thank you," he smiled. Collins hadn't heard more news of Cullen ever since his visit to his office. He wondered if the outlaw was gathering evidence against Forster as well. He still doubted whether to present the documents requesting Forster's dismissal from the Royal Guard and Hayes. Alas, that would not draw out the man who protected him.
Wilson had been in Hayes longer than Forster, he had also been mayor longer than the captain had been there. Thus, Collins thought, he might figure out more about his captain before making a decision.
"What brings you here today, Major Collins?" Wilson asked as his chins bobbed with the flick of his head. His cravat squeezed around his neck and the buttons on his colorful coat seemed about ready to burst off.
"Forster, Mr. Wilson," Collins said as a servant brought around the port for both gentlemen.
"Oh, heaven spare me," Wilson grimaced. "Just thinking of that man—next to Cullen—will bring about another spurt of gout. No, my good major, let us not speak of him."
"I insist, Mr. Wilson. He poses a problem and I need to speak with you to gather information before making a decision."
Wilson nodded, growing paler the more they spoke. "Hayes has become unbearable—since before this Cullen fellow, mind you—still, unbearable. We are lucky to have you, for Forster ruled with an iron fist before."
"Do you know which officer sent him here? Or which office? Are you aware if he has any patrons or friends in Safeira or Wessport?" Collins asked, sipping his port.
Wilson looked pensive, drumming his fingers on his leg. "Well," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "He arrived about a year and a half before you did. The previous commandant of the garrison, Captain Clarke, met with an unfortunate accident." Wilson didn't seem to think much of it, but Collins straightened up at the new information. It had not been made known to him before arriving in Hayes—and, indeed, one might think it pertinent to inform the new commandant of the garrison such an event.
"Indeed?"
Wilson nodded with a sad expression stretching across his plump features. "A horrible affair. He had never been a good horseman, from what I could gather. But he was truly a gallant officer, much liked by the people here. He had gotten a new steed from the Isle of Cantabria. But it was a wild thing and he could not control it. It spooked, probably, on the road leading through Raven's Grove. He was traveling to Sorossa, to visit some relatives. He had left the garrison in the command of Sgt. Thompson."
Collins arched an eyebrow at the thought that Thompson could be in charge of anything. But he guessed the fat sergeant would be better at his job than Forster.
"They found him with a broken back that same day as the horse had darted back to town. He was in a horrid state." A pained expression passed over Wilson's features. "He was a good friend and I regret that he suffered much during his last few days ailing in his bed."
Collins looked down into his glass. "I regret to hear such a thing as well," he murmured.
"Captain Forster arrived a full month later. There are few who wish to take a post like Hayes. He came from Maesir, I believe—south of here. At first, it was not all too bad. But he found ways to test us, to see how far he could go before we would protest. I must defend myself in saying that I did protest against him, in the beginning." Wilson shook his head in a sad manner and shivered. The clock ticked in the background and the sala grew quiet. "It was not pleasant, major."
Collins pressed his lips together and downed the rest of his port.
"He is undoubtedly trying to do the same with you," Wilson argued.
"He is," Collins agreed.
They grew mute in the open sala, the wisteria branches peeking through the opened windows and the arched doors leading to the vast patio where Wilson's feast had been held. Both men regarded the floor, finding some sudden interest in it in the meek hope that it would allow them to further delay on the subject.
"I fear Captain Forster may be involved in Lucas Ridge's death," Collins braved.
Wilson downed his glass of port and bade the maid to bring the entire bottle to quench their thirst. "Have you shared this with anyone else?" the mayor asked in a faint voice, not yet able to make eye contact. Collins could hear the strain in it.
"No," the major lied. How would it look if he admitted to being in the confidence with the bandit Cullen? He did not think Wilson would go against him, but he did not wish for the short mayor to hold such knowledge over him.
The small gray eyes of the mayor looked up across the table to meet him, regarding him as if judging him. "Best leave it that way, major," he murmured.
Collins arched an eyebrow. It seemed Wilson was not surprised by this information he had just shared with him. "I take it then that you suspected it was not a suicide."
"All I know," Wilson started in his characteristically muted voice. "Is that the less we prod into these things, major, the better."
Collins understood then. Forster must have threatened Wilson to silence. He must have something over the mayor for him to fear the captain thus.
"But we cannot allow the captain to continue, Mr. Wilson."
"No, no we cannot. But I tried to go against him a year ago with no avail. What do you suggest?"
"I cannot say yet. Trust that when I have a plan, I may come to you. The civil office must support the military one. If the Royal Guard and the mayor openly stand against Forster, we may yet have a chance," Collins argued. He hoped Cullen might present some sort of evidence of Lucas Ridge's murder to reinforce his accusations.
"Indeed, tis a good enough plan. But I ask that you guard yourself in the meantime," Wilson urged. "I do not know how, but Forster has ears everywhere. Eyes as well. He is…a resourceful man."
Collins took it as his cue to leave, there was little else to speak of. "That he is, Mr. Wilson." Only in an insignificant town such as Hayes could a mere captain have claimed such an iron grip over the populace. "I do not doubt he has enjoyed this little rule over Hayes."
The mayor got up as well, straightening his coat and fixing his gray wig in place—the piece growingly out of fashion. "Let me walk you to the door," Wilson offered.
Collins nodded in thanks and they journeyed outside into the unforgiving warmth of the sun. Summer seemed to grip onto Cadherra, if only for a moment. Collins mounted his steed and left the estate more worried than when he had gotten there.
Around the grand mahogany table, the people of the Masen household sat eating their breakfast. The footmen lined the walls as the baron was the last to enter the room. Edward Masen was seated next to his sister Alice who kept rolling her eyes at his tiresome conversation. Her husband Jasper, however, did his best to steer his brother in law to his attention, so that his wife may find some moment of peace.
Mrs. McCarty and her husband were in playful and loving banter as they discussed some affairs in Safeira. Lady Masen's eyes lit up at the sight of her husband.
Carlisle sat down at the head of the table, next to his wife and daughter Rosalie. His son had come home late last night, and not spoken a word of it. There were few places to frequent in Hayes that would be open so late. The Stanley's kept good hours with all their guests, a respectable family although quite the gossip for most of the time. The other place was The Laughing Goose. But, Carlisle had it on good authority that his son had not been there. Normally, he would concern himself with Edward's whereabouts. He did not do it with the rest of his children. With the fact that his son had frequented the upper society of London and was used to its nightlife, he was now afraid that Edward might be urging a scandal with some young lady. If—and it was a big if—some young lady even wished to have him.
Carlisle regarded his son as his energy drained. As always, he had his starched cravat with his nose high in the air. His hair was perfectly gelled against his head with each curl perfectly placed across his forehead in a comical manner. The cut of his maroon coat coupled with the lace cuffs of his white shirt and the lace handkerchief peeking out of it was enough to send Carlisle's mind spinning.
The father was taken back to the day of Edward's youth, the days he had been reckless, running around, mounting his horses, jumping out and into trees, doing acrobats, fencing wildly with him. Although his appearance could, at times, tire Carlisle, it was not entirely the reason he was so dismayed at his son. It was Edward's lack of interest in anything, his constant nagging and complaining. Edward did not feel the need to accomplish anything, he was not spurred by emotion, moved by anything. He simply was. He lived each day as if it was a tiresome and bothering occurrence, only partaking in soirées to gossip with the ladies and speak of what he longed for. The only passion Carlisle had ever seen kindled in Edward's eyes had been when speaking of fashion or the big city life. It saddened the father for he had hoped to make a home in Hayes. And while the rest of them grew appalled by Captain Forster's tyrannical treatment of the townspeople, the strange occurrences of bandits in Raven's Grove, the high taxations or the strange appearance of this Cullen fellow, Edward seemed unbothered by it, unless it made for some sort of gossip that he may relate to Miss Stanley.
But even Miss Stanley could grow to be tired by him.
"Mr. Simmons says another pack of bandits was delivered to the garrison this morning. All were tied to their horses and gagged with a note saying Audeamus."
Emmett chuckled as he spread some butter on his toast. "I wish I could have been witness to such a feat."
"How many bandits?" asked Alice in an interested tone as she put aside her hot tea and leaned forward. Her black curls spilled past her shoulders. Jasper Hale looked straight at Carlisle with a rather interested air as well.
"Mr. Simmons claims they were six fellows, but that must be faulty. One man cannot take down six bandits," Carlisle mused.
Rosalie grabbed for an apple and started delicately cutting it on her porcelain plate. "Six or sixty, what does the number matter? What matter is that Cullen—whoever he is—must risk his life because the soldiers are too foolish and ineffective."
"Now, Rosalie dear, you are too harsh on Major Collins and the Royal Guard," Esmeralda reprimanded her daughter.
"I beg to differ, Lady Esmeralda," Emmett argued. "They are the Royal Guard, they are placed in each town with enough resources to protect us, civilians. Yet, they have not been successful in their endeavors to take down these bandits. With Captain Forster constantly breathing down Collins' neck, there is little he can do."
"I do not believe he is breathing down the major's neck. Collins is his superior," Alice frowned. She had stopped eating and a wave of tension extended about the dining room.
Emmett leaned back in his chair, his broad shoulders squaring further. "You cannot argue, Mrs. Hale, that Forster seems to disregard completely what the major orders him to do. We all know how he behaved here before Collins came—what he did to Mr. Black."
Silence stretched itself across the table. Alas, there was one who did not seem to take the hint that the subject was best left alone. "Well, I think that is unjust, McCarty. I find Captain Forster an interesting sort of fellow. Now, do not get me wrong, he has a terrible taste in fashion and ties a horrible cravat. But he makes for stimulating conversation," Edward Masen said with his nose up in the air.
The tension grew tenfold. Alice shivered as she caught the death glare her father was sending Edward's way. Esmeralda's hand found Carlisle's as she tried to calm her husband, but he boiled beneath the surface.
"Move yourself from my sight, Edward," Carlisle murmured in a desperate attempt to control his ire. Indeed, Edward's remark about the much-detested captain had been the last straw.
"Father, why do you bother so? I mere commented on Captain Forster's—"
Carlisle slammed his hands down hard on the table and looked at his son with a terrifying expression. Edward had never seen his father thus, and for the first time since his arrival, the popinjay did as his parent said and obeyed. His mouth pressed together in a fine line.
"Your behavior thus far and your overall arrogance I have tolerated because you are my son! But you shame me by keeping such an acquaintance, and by associating with such a sorry excuse for a man!" Carlisle roared.
One could have heard a pin drop in that vast room. Esmeralda stared down at her lap while Rosalie kept looking to and from her husband, unsure of what they were supposed to do. It was an uncomfortable situation for all. But Alice Hale had to be suffering the most, for she detested seeing her father treat her older brother thusly. It provoked a shiver in her lower lip as her husband held her hand and tried to comfort her as best as he could.
Edward remained silent but under the table his hands squeezed into fists.
"Captain Forster plays king of Hayes and treats the people here as his subjects to torment. How can you ignore this?" Carlisle stood up, the chair scraping against the floor and flying back from the violent action. "You are blinded by your frolicking, by your ridiculous laced cuffs and starched cravats and your sighs for London. Well, if you ail so much for England you may go back!" he spat. "For a man to be keeping relations with someone like Forster is no son of mine and dishonors my name."
Edward Masen stood up as well, his moves a tad stiff. He looked straight at his father. The dull look in his eyes had disappeared completely, the emerald orbs had never looked clearer. There seemed to be a knot lose in the impeccable mask of indifference that he always sported. Carlisle saw past the rouge and powdered façade for a split second and he knew that Edward had been wounded by his words.
For a split second.
Then the eyes dulled once more, and the nose turned up. "I shall remove myself from your sight, as you have wished it, father," he mumbled in a subdued voice. Edward bowed to the rest of his family and turned around, opening the door himself as the footmen dared not move for fear that they would attract the ire of the baron.
Carlisle saw his only son exit the dining room and his head fell down in defeat. When he looked up, he felt the stares from the others, but no one seemed to dispute his treatment of Edward. It was as if they were torn between who was right: the father or the son.
Yet, Carlisle could not ignore the second of change he had seen in his son, and it unsettled him.
She regarded the eeriness of the woods in front of her. It would be one of the final chances she'd get to venture into Raven's Grove for the season. Soon the autumn rains would beckon, and it would be dangerous to slip in between the trees. One might encounter floods or marshland that had not been there during summer.
Bandits had plagued the King's Highway that lead through the forest to the neighboring province of Sorossa. But maybe she might not stumble upon those bandits if she kept off the road. Bella was desperate for a final chance to ride around in the Embrace. Now that she knew that Cullen wasn't truly a dangerous man, simply an arrogant one, she did not fear him as much.
April took her through the canopy early in the morning, with the chirping of birds. Some leaves had started turning at the edges, another sign that the end of summer was nigh. As she let her mare stretch her neck, Bella contemplated the discussion she'd had with her parents the previous night.
With Hayes growing so unstable during the last few months, they insisted she travel with Mr. and Mrs. Hale to Safeira for the season; from the middle of January until the beginning of June.
However, Bella had no wish to venture to the capital. Even if Alice had begged her to go, she had wrinkled her nose. "I have no designs there, Alice, I have no need to socialize with people who will disapprove of me." Bella was still, after all, new money whose father had bought a title. They would not accept her, even if she was on the arm of Count Newton himself.
What she had accepted, however, was to venture on a short trip with Alice and Jasper to Zafra, the southernmost city of Angloa. Bella had heard much of its beauty and she—who had never left Hayes—wished to discover the exotic south further. Southern Angloa reminded more of Spain and Portugal than its middle and northern counterparts, that had much more of a decidedly French and British influence.
She pushed past a branch as the heavy foliage obscured much of the road. Yet, April was certain in her footing and more agile ever since her mistress had reduced her food. Bella and her mare soared through the forest and relished in its mystery.
She passed the abandoned cabin and knew that in a matter of moments, the Embrace would shine before her. Soon enough, the delightful meadow swayed gently in the breeze. Much of the grass had grown tall throughout the summer and April delighted as Bella allowed her to roam free for once.
Bella Swan sat down where the grass was shorter and stared at the clear sky, suppressing a shiver at the surprising chill. She had put on a maroon coat, suspecting the cold might sneak up on her.
She eventually fell asleep under the bare sky and did not wake until later, when the sun was already descending, and a hand gently tugged on her shoulder.
The young woman darted awake at the presence of another in her secret paradise. She turned around heftily, taking a defensive stance, ready to dart for April if the situation required it. The young woman felt the scent of earth and dry grass push into her nostrils. She squinted her chocolate eyes as she was met by the smiling black orbs of Jacob Black.
He dressed in worn and shabby clothes. He wore a stack of wood slung over his shoulder as if he had just cut it and was carrying it back somewhere. His long hair was loose and there were a few smudges of dirt here and there on his sweaty forehead. His brown leather vest hung open and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. He suspended his weight casually on his left leg and hip. Jacob looked surprised yet genuinely glad to see her.
"Bella!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing in Raven's Grove?" He looked around, wondering if she was alone, yet when he saw no one, she noted how his stance relaxed further and his shoulders slunk down.
She frowned, growing slightly confused. "I might ask the same of you, only I suspect I already know the answer."
They stood awkwardly in tense silence for a moment, until Jacob shifted his weight and spoke once more. "It is good to see you," he mumbled while looking at her. Bella had noted a wave of anger ever present in Jacob ever since the imprisonment of his father. She suspected he held a bitter resentment toward Forster for what he had put Billy through and a bitter contempt for the judiciary system as they couldn't help either him or Billy. But now, standing out in the open, surrounded by the grace of nature, Jacob Black seemed at ease, as if he was no longer weighed down by such feelings of ire.
"You as well," Bella smiled. "How fairs your father?" She suspected Jacob had left it all not only to join Cullen in Raven's Grove, but to care for his father, who was still a runaway from the law. Her words made Jacob's features darken slightly. "He…Forster was worse on him the second time. I took him to a friend in Sorossa who now houses him for the winter. Father…was badly wounded by the captain when he escaped the second time, I fear he will not walk again."
Bella stifled an outcry. "Heaven have mercy!" she exclaimed. "Is it that bad?"
"He is fine overall, Bella. He cannot seem to stand up anymore, that is all. His legs move, but with great difficulty."
Bella felt guilty, the pressing weight of such a feeling claiming her as she hugged herself. Her lose tresses danced in the wind as a hand rested heavily on her shoulder. "Tis not your fault. If anything, I am grateful that you were one of the few who tried to help us."
"The whole affair with your father was a fiasco." There was no denying it and Jacob nodded in complete agreement.
"Mr. Ridge paid with his life for it, my father got lucky in that sense."
"Then you know," she stated, stifling another shiver, but not from cold. "I know all…about Mr. Ridge, that is."
She felt the black eyes regard her as if trying to read her expression. Jacob and Bella had been friends since infancy, yet even now—due to the strange circumstances—he did not know how much he could say.
"I know he came into your chambers," Jacob stated. She noted a hint of annoyance lacing his voice.
She arched an eyebrow. "You keep distasteful company, Mr. Black. That man is a blackguard of the worst sort."
Jacob scratched the back of his neck. "I was not too pleased to hear it when he told me."
Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward eagerly. "Do not tell me you speak with him?" she cried. "Honestly, Jacob!"
He squared his jaw as his nostrils flared slightly. "I…well he saved my father…and me as well. And that man is the only one going against Forster, not blinded by bureaucracy and such. He dares take down a tyrant and question the system."
"Has he shown you the note he stole from me yet?" She crossed her arms and expelled an irritated air about her. She shifted her weight and guarded herself as a gust of wind pushed against her.
"We have looked at it several times together. I…cannot see how it would be used as evidence."
When Bella started smirking in a satisfied manner Jacob frowned. "I told him it was only a simple note, that he wouldn't find much in it…unless he asked me." She started pacing around Jacob until finally sitting down on a boulder next to him. "Although I must admit to being surprised that you didn't manage to unveil more of it either."
"Well, tell me now and I will relay the message to him—"
"I discovered that note, I cleaned out Ridge's study, I read between the lines. No," she shook her head. "If he wishes for my help then he can come and ask me nicely." She had to abstain from letting out a wicked laugh. How would Cullen react once she revealed that she knew who he was? How would the proud "general" quip with her once she revealed he was nothing more than a glorified hermit? She was already looking forward to it.
Jacob frowned, obviously not aware of the underlying context. Yet, the look of satisfaction spreading across her features produced a chuckle in him. "Fine, at your own peril."
This time, if they met in the gardens, she would kick him into the pond if she could.
"I miss our talks and banters," she sighed. "I miss having someone I can share my real thoughts with."
"I do too. You know," he continued. "I remain in Raven's Grove, although it would be dangerous for you to come out here to meet me all the time. Maybe we can find a way to meet in Hayes?" he said as if thinking out loud.
"Why do I have the feeling that you are not able to show your face in Hayes anymore?"
He readjusted the logs on his shoulder. "Right before leaving, Forster sought me out and was about to take me into the garrison, but my neighbors managed to put him off it. Do not ask me how, I think they threatened to tell Collins, and Forster did not wish to go up against him. I had time to close down the house and flee here, to Raven's Grove. If I show my face around town, Forster will no doubt take me in for questioning. If that happens, I do not know if I will ever leave the garrison alive again. I will not take that chance, Bella."
"I see," she breathed. "The situation in town grows worse and I actually think Captain Forster is trying to go up against the major," she shivered.
"He needs to be taken down before the situation gets out of hand."
Bella nodded. Then, how could she and Jacob meet without causing too much suspicion? A light went off in her head as it spread across her features. "What about St. Nicholas, outside of town?"
"Weren't they renovating that church?" he asked.
"They finished last month, a few weeks after you left. Think of it, it is not used as frequently as the one in town due to the renovations. Frankly," Bella continued. "The friars there are sweet and rather discreet. They would not say it out loud, but I have no doubt that they'd support your endeavor. I think Friar Nathan, if anyone, would welcome a follower of Cullen. We could arrange meetings there in the confessional!" she exclaimed. "Friar Blackwood would allow it, I am certain! Oh, Jacob how exciting!" She felt like she was partaking in an adventurous novel when planning such a meeting with Jacob.
"I do believe you make a point. If you go and seek out Friar Blackwood, and he would allow you to house such meetings with me, have them ring the bell three times and I will know that I can come."
"I am leaving for Zafra next month, but I return in winter. We must meet then, Jacob."
"This is perfect, you can keep me informed on what goes on in Hayes."
Bella was at ease knowing he was well and in safety.
"Then I shall venture there." She started making a move to return home for it would be dark soon. "Take care of yourself, Mr. Black," she blinked as she went for the reins.
Jacob shifted his weight once more. "And you as well, Miss Swan." He saw her mount and it was soon that she was on her way. He saw the trees of Raven's Grove swallow her and he sighed with a small smile still plastered on his face even after she had left.
The last flecks of sunlight were gone, Hayes settled into her sleepy calmness. On the surface, it was the same tranquil town as always. However, underneath it, it boiled vigorously.
April was tired after a full day out in the meadow, her stomach bloated so much that Bella had to loosen the strap of her saddle considerably. She was guiding her through the tight little streets of the central part of the town when she stumbled upon the first evening patrol, headed by Sgt. Thompson.
"Miss Swan!" the sergeant exclaimed gleefully.
The color drained from her face. Oh no, how would she explain this? It would look rather suspicious if she revealed that she came from Raven's Grove. The curfew was still in place and she didn't know if Major Collins would take kindly to her roaming the woods in the darkness, especially not since it was now famous for housing bandits and Cullen.
"Sergeant," she smiled, forcing it quickly to stretch across her features. "It seems I've exceeded my stay a bit too long perhaps. Do not worry, I am making my way home." Maybe he wouldn't ask where she had been and merely assume that she had either visited the Stanelys or the Masens.
He looked puzzled at her and his soldiers stood around, irritated and keen on continuing the walk. The quicker they were done, the faster they could kiss the soft pillows of their beds.
"Miss, you look like you have been rolling around in a meadow the entire day. And your little horse! She looks to be carrying a foal!" the sergeant exclaimed with little tact. Bella swallowed some choice words and forced the smile to remain.
"I fell," she lied. "And April was rather well fed today. Listen, sergeant," she said while closing in, looking at him rather keenly. He walked over with her away from his men, leaning in eagerly. "I would indeed appreciate it if you did not tell your superior officers that you found me in such a state. I look rather tousled, don't I. I'd consider it an embarrassment that Major Collins and Captain Forster should know what a bad rider I am," she begged.
The sergeant did not understand what she was asking him to keep quiet about. Yet, he trusted fully in her words and nodded heftily. "I shall be a tomb, miss!" he exclaimed.
A satisfied smirk spread on her features. "I know you will, sergeant. Maybe I should invite you to a glass of wine at Lucy's, I haven't frequented The Laughing Goose as much lately. I also do believe you are overdue for some of Dory's meat pies before I leave for Zafra," she continued, turning the attention away from her and to alcohol and food. It worked like magic, for the eyes of the big sergeant clouded as he started salivating at the mere thought.
"Mmm, yes, meat pies. That…that sounds rather lovely, Miss Swan." He looked dreamily into the distance and she heard his stomach rumble.
"Then, sergeant," she urged as she took the reins of April once more, preparing to make her way home. "I bid you a good night!" she said, walking away from the heap of soldiers. Bella Swan received some curious glances from the corporal and the rest of the lancers, but they had not heard the exchange. However, by the look on the sergeant's features, they could only guess what had been spoken of between the two and most started rolling their eyes.
Upon making her way through the remaining narrow streets of central Hayes, Bella stumbled upon another familiar figure.
Mr. Ridge's maid had kept to herself ever since his death. She now served the new tenant of the lodging. Alas, she lamented that the new man, a blind old man of advanced years, was not the same. Mr. Ridge had been so kind, so thoughtful of her, always provoking a chuckle or two. Sometimes, he would drive her mad with the way he kept his rooms. But Miss Maria Haste had liked him all the same. Out of all in Hayes, she had found it the hardest to accept his passing.
"Miss Haste!" Bella uttered surprised. "What a delight to find you here, even at such a late hour!"
Maria's eyes darted about both women; the young woman jumpy—as she had always been. Bella took in their surroundings, they were overshadowed by the overhanging of the houses surrounding them; by the balconies that jutted out and practically touched the opposite house on the other side of the street, such were the narrow streets right in the heart of the medieval town.
"Miss Swan," Maria acknowledged as she curtsied.
"How fair you, Miss Haste? How is the new tenant?"
"Oh, there is little of interest to say on my behalf. I manage, and Mr. Jensen is very kind." Unspoken words of comparison between the new tenant and Mr. Ridge hung uncomfortably in the air. Maria fiddled with her skirts, a shade paler than usual.
"How are you, Miss Swan? One hears you are being courted by Mr. Masen."
"Oh, good heavens no," Bella exclaimed and put up her hands in protest. "Tis merely a friendly acquaintance…" she trailed off. The young woman had started perceiving the maid before her more in-depth. What was she doing out so late in the evening?
"I might wonder how Mr. Jensen has you keeping such late hours," she frowned.
Maria's eyes widened, and she became rather defensive. "Indeed not, Miss Swan. I had quite a lot of work to catch up on…I must confess it has been hard seeing Mr. Ridge's lodgings taken over by a stranger and I have not been…myself," she lamented in what Bella supposed was honesty. But something lurked beneath the surface, an unease on the part of Maria.
Bella closed in on the older woman and placed a friendly hand on her arm. "Miss Haste, if…anything is wrong, or you find yourself in any sort of predicament, the doors of my home will always be open to you," she said.
Maria forced a chuckle. "Tis simply a long day's work that has me looking so strange, Miss Swan. Think nothing of it," Maria said. April flickered her ears, impatient to get going. "Coincidentally," the maid continued as if keen on changing the subject. "I have passed a few times by the Goose. Lucy has asked for you a few times. It seems she misses your frequent visits."
"Indeed, I miss her as well. The past fortnight has been stressful, and I have not been able to visit Lucy as much as I'd like." A gentle tug at her lips warmed her entire face and Maria couldn't help but be affected by it as well. Miss Swan had the fortunate gift to invoke laughter and joy in whoever crossed her path. She could see why Lucas had taken such a keen liking to her.
"You should hurry, Miss Swan, lest Lucy gets into one of her moods and decides against you," Maria teased.
"Indeed, you are right. I should spare myself the pain of her wrath and seek her out within the week!" Bella promised. She had been steered away from their previous conversation and didn't come to think of it until she was getting ready to retire for the night.
She gathered April's reins. "Well, Miss Haste, I shall have to get going lest my parents give me an earful," she smiled
Maria stood, uncertain in her countenance as if something lingered on the tip of her tongue. There was something she wished to say to Bella, but an internal strife was now underway, deciding if she should do so or not. Before Bella left, Maria sprang to her and hugged her awkwardly. Bella was about to give a surprised exclamation and chuckle when Maria pressed her mouth close to her ear.
"Two birds and a saint," she whispered so lowly that Bella almost didn't catch it. The strange sentence had her even more confused. "Well then, Miss Swan, I shall see you soon!" Maria said as if she had never whispered to her. She ignored their previous familiarity and was off, urging Bella to act the same. She returned baffled to her home, avoiding her parents and heading to her room, not thinking more of the words.
She stared at the flickering lights of the wax candle placed by her nightstand as the jumbled thoughts ran through her head. In the morrow, she thought, she had to write down this whole mess and try to sort it out.
Bella blew out the candle and closed her eyes, soon drifting off into an uneasy sleep.
The following few days saw much tumult at the Masen townhouse as they readied for the autumn ball Rosalie McCarty was preparing. The place had grown so unnerving to a certain Edward Masen, that he spent most of his time on promenades with Bella Swan, or frequenting the perfumed parlor of Jessica Stanley. Gossip around town was that the fop tried desperately to court both women but to no avail. While Miss Stanley was known as a fashionable coquette, Bella was more famed as the levelheaded girl who all liked. They all laughed at the mere thought that she should ever accept a courtship from Masen. Edward was ever only seen as an acquaintance to her and Bella reinforced that statement.
While her brother had fled the townhouse, Rosalie found herself to have taken water over her ears as she one day had forced her entire family to help with the decorations, to make the process develop in a faster manner.
"Rosalie," Emmett sighed while rushing behind his wife.
"Out of the question, Emmett!" Rosalie cried past her shoulder. She directed the footmen in preparing the western part of the ballroom they had in their townhouse.
"But it could be fun!" Emmett urged.
Rosalie turned around to another footman who was holding two different types of plates.
"The left set for the dining room, the right for the garden," Rosalie said as she brushed her hand nervously up and down her skirts.
Alice came running with a mass of cloth in her arms. "Oh, Rosalie I couldn't decide on which—"
"The white laced one. Leave the embroidered one behind," Rosalie said without looking up. Alice nodded heftily and hurried back.
"She said the laced one!" husband and wife heard Alice shout as she disappeared.
Esmeralda was directing the maids to prepare the table in the dining room and stack them for the dinner. A total of fifty guests would come. Their townhouse was modest in size and some would have to sit in the garden at a smaller table. Rosalie wrinkled her nose at such a solution, but it couldn't be helped. She had decided that those she liked the least would be shown to that table. After dinner, the ballroom would be made available for music and dance until their heart's desire, which could be the entire night. She wanted not only to outdo the gatherings and parties of the others, but she also wanted to inspire awe in them—show them how it was done in Safeira.
It had to be the best.
"You are not demonstrating your swordsmanship with Major Collins. I will not have any duels, for fun or otherwise at my party, Emmett!" she hissed, running her fingers through the lock resting across her right shoulder.
"It should serve to liven it up—"
Rosalie turned around and looked about ready to strangle him with her bare hands. "Try to liven up this party, dear, and you will find yourself five meters underground tomorrow morning, buried in a coffin!" she said in a strangled cry before breathing deeply through her nose.
Emmett shut his mouth immediately, almost growing afraid of his wife. She turned from him and exclaimed in irritation as a group of maids was placing the autumn decorations wrongly in the foyer.
He stared after the train of her taffeta gown and frowned.
"The key to a happy marriage, is to do as she wants," came a voice from behind him. Emmett turned around and almost collided with Jasper as he balanced a stack of plates.
"I think she has gone insane."
Jasper shook his head and placed the plates on a table to the side in the dining room. "No, not insane, only nervous. She wishes to give the guests their ultimate experience. The level in Hayes differs from Safeira. Alice remarked on it, Rosalie is throwing a Safeiran party, not a Hayes one."
"Who are we trying to impress?" Emmett wondered out loud.
"I have no idea," Jasper chuckled. "But I agree with her on the fencing part. It would not do to have you fence with Collins here, no matter how entertaining you think it may be."
Emmett sulked.
A/N: Thank you for the reviews and feedback on the previous chapter! And thank you so much for the encouragements I received for my exams. I only have a few left now until June as well as my Bachelor's thesis (French linguistics yay!). Therefore, please bear with me as I may still upload weekly or maybe even every ten days. I'm really trying to stick to the schedule (I have the chapters written but I always go over them and want to change details that may be important later on in the story and therefore a big plotline ends up changed, I might add or take away scenes etc.) If you find any grammatical faults or anything that appears wrong, please let me know (as some of you did last chapter. Shoutout to you! :D )
Anyways, I'm off to continue with my thesis now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Cheers,
Isabelle